Love is a Four Letter Word
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She’d never even said goodbye to anyone or anything. That day he’d walked down the steps and put their suitcases in the boot of the car, rattled the gate to check it was secure then driven away without a backwards glance. The house that was her home had been locked up, locked out. Forgotten.
Her mother had never meant to get pregnant again, if she hadn’t she probably would have never said she was leaving with her toy boy. The man who made her feel wanted. The man she bought a plane ticket with and never looked back.
But shit happens, and sometimes it keeps happening.
Georgie opened the eyes she hadn’t realised she’d shut and looked down at the leaves round her feet. She stooped, picked up one of the shiny brown conkers from the road and rolled it round, the still waxy surface tacky against her fingertips, then closed her hand tight around it and shoved both her fists in her pockets. Slowing down to think about things was bad, ploughing on into the unknown, every day a different challenge was good. Kicking her way out of the crap that had closed in around her. She gave a last kick at the leaves, but this time it was an angry jab, that sent a pain though her toe. Great, just what she needed, a broken toe. She hobbled a couple of steps, at least this was a proper pain. Kicked her boot off and wiggled the toes experimentally, they moved so they couldn’t be broken, could they? She pulled her wellie back on with a sigh. Dawdling was just putting off the moment when she’d get there. Have to face him again and work out how to get what she wanted. It was time to kick ass, if her foot was up to it.
“Bit of a coincidence isn’t it? Twice in one week after not seeing you for years.”
“How could I stay away?” Keep her tone light was one thing, keeping her eyes off him was something altogether different. No-one should be allowed to look like that, Georgie decided. But at least the dread in her stomach when she’d turned into the place had been replaced with little fingers of anticipation that were reaching down a bit lower.
From the shadow on his chin he couldn’t have shaved since she last saw him, and the curls on his forehead were damp with perspiration. So was the T-black T-shirt that was clinging to his torso, just like she wanted to. He was gazing at her through dark lashes and the quirk to the corner of his mouth could have been amusement or something her dirty mind had made up.
Bugger.
“Did you forget something?” He’d ignored her comment, obviously used to being lusted after. But she was more than happy to up her game if she needed to.
“Call me nosy. I wondered what you got up to these days, when you weren’t handing out rides.”
This time he half grinned. What she was after, she supposed, except those little fingers in her stomach were firming up into more and tugging at something deep down in her stomach. Promising.
“I don’t tend to hand out seconds.”
“Arrogant bugger.” She laughed and the other side of his mouth joined in with the grin.
“If you’ve got it, why deny it?” He held out his hands wide, as though in submission and chuckled. Lord that chuckle was dangerous, it was practically making her toes curl, and causing all kinds of other havoc on its way down there.
“So, what do you do?” She glanced around, so that she had an excuse not to carry on staring at him. Being lured in, she needed to control this. Not just jump the man. There were neat fields either side, a barn at the end of the track and not much else from what she could see. The same old place that she remembered from all those years ago, but tidier. The same post and rail fence, still with the teeth marks.
Exactly the same teeth marks. She stared. This was worse than she’d thought. Her fingers curled, tight in her pockets until her nails bit into the palms of her hands. He shouldn’t be here, in this field. He should be in the next one along, nearer to Rowena’s, further from her memories. This wasn’t his place, it was hers. She bit the inside of her cheek and forced herself to stop looking at the stupid fence.
Looked at something new. A neat white line of electric tape around the gateway to stop it becoming a muddy morass. Not that mud had bothered her last time she was here.
“I fix horses.”
“Fix? Come on, you’re not a vet.” He didn’t even like horses, he’d never liked horses or she’d have noticed when they were kids. They’d been her whole life back then.
“Wow, as sharp as ever I see, Sherlock.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stood square. Damn, she was back to staring at him. “I fix their heads not their bodies, it’s all in the mind as they say.”
“What is?”
“The bogeyman, the monster hiding in dark places. That irresistible urge to run hard and fast.”
There was a trace of something darker in his voice, maybe something bitter, maybe just plain old irony. It wasn’t there long enough to pin down, but she sensed it. He shrugged, dispersed the tension she was sure she hadn’t imagined.
“Sometimes it can be a good idea to run.” She tried to make a joke out of it, but his face didn’t lift.
“Messes with your head if you don’t know why you’re running.” His eyes narrowed, sending out a fan of fine wrinkles towards his temples.
And she knew if she came out with it straight, why she was there, he’d be the one running hard and fast. She hadn’t quite worked out how to get round him yet, but the longer she looked at him the more she wanted him in the shoot. And she wanted it here too. It was part of him, and she didn’t want to separate the two. And it was part of her, a part that the ache inside her might want back. A sticking plaster for the soul as her gran would have said.
“So, where are the horses?”
“She’s in the barn.”
“She? As in one horse? That’s a bit crap isn’t it, as businesses go?”
“It’s how I work.” He paused. “One at a time.” Stared.
Now, was that a threat or a promise? He enunciated each syllable, slow and clear in that quiet, low tone of his and she suddenly knew that now might be the time to cut and run. To get away while she still wanted to. If she still wanted to.
Forget the whole thing. It was better to go somewhere else, get away from this stupid place. It was easy to find a man, a guy who looked good in dirty jeans, a grin and not much more. Very easy. A man with a dimple in the middle of his chin, and green brown eyes that you wanted to sink slowly into. A man with a firm body that you could wrap yourself round. Easy.
“I’ve got a proposition for you.”
Chapter Three
He wasn’t going to like this. She didn’t like it. What in the world had made her say it? Well she knew the answer to that one. He turned her on. He intrigued her. Having men like Jake in her life was what kept her going. He was unpredictable and just looking at him gave her a thrill, oh yeah, and just imagining what he might do to her next, that was what made her determined not to let him disappear from her life yet.
“Shall I just say no now, and shortcut the process?”
“No, let’s not. Don’t say anything. Just listen until I’ve told you what it is.”
He leaned back against the fence, stretched one leg out, so that his thigh muscles lengthened, long and taut against the worn denim of his jeans. She could run her hand down that thigh and it would be rock hard. Like something else by the looks of him.
“I’ve got another job.”
“Busy girl.”
She ignored that. “I scout for this agency that does photo shoots.”
“No.” He straightened, folded his arms across his chest and everything about him said no. “You’re not bringing them here.”
Why bother denying it? “Why not? They’ll pay. It’s good money.”
“You’ll disturb the horses.”
“Horse.”
He shrugged.
“We pay quite a lot.” Safer to work on the location bit, then bring in the trickier ‘him being in shot’ bit later.
She’d called in to see Rowena on the way up, checked that Jake would be where she thought he was, and it had been nice to see the older woman. She’d been made to feel welcome, wanted, a feeling she hadn’t had for a long time. Rowena had laughed though when she’d told her why she was there. “I’ve no objections to your friends taking a few photographs up there, love. But I can’t speak for Jake and as he’s paying the rent, he does have the last say, despite the past.” She’d put a finger under Georgie’s chin and studied her for a moment. “He’s no pushover though, not even for a pretty face. You go ahead and ask, it might do him good.” It had been on the tip of Georgie’s tongue to ask what she meant, but she’d bit it back. She didn’t want to get into discussions about the past. And she hadn’t liked the ‘good luck’ and chuckle thrown after her as she’d pulled the gate shut.
Jake gave a short humourless laugh. “However much it is, it’s not enough.” He held up a hand to stop her objection. “Not everyone has a price, Georgie. I thought you’d have learned that by now. You can’t just buy your way in, I’m not for sale.”
“Ahh, come on, name your price, it doesn’t have to be money, anything.” There had to be a way, he had to agree, let her do the shoot here. “Just a couple of hours, a few piccies.”
“You can’t afford me, Georgie girl.”
“Try me.” He would let her. She could almost taste victory. He’d moved on from the straight no.
He met her stare, his eyes dark, hooded. “I thought I’d done that.”
“Funny. Stop giving me your horny look and stop trying to change the subject.”
He laughed out loud then. “I wonder just how far you’d go, to get your own way?”
“You won’t know unless you ask.”
He was looking amused now, almost like he’d realised he could have fun. It should have made her apprehensive, but come on what could he possibly come up with that could be that hard to sort? At least he’d given up on the grumpiness and gone back to the happy go lucky Jake she loved. She thought.
He was smiling, broad, real with a hint of tease. “I remember you when you used to spend all weekend playing with ponies.”
Huh-huh. Slight change of tack in the wind.
“And?”
“I could do with a hand, well more like a nice pair of legs and a sticky bum.” He grinned, all wolfish and bad. His gaze drifted over her body, slowly oh so slowly down her legs and she fought the impulse to fidget. He was getting into this. “Okay, here’s the deal. Let’s see you do some grafting for a change.”
She shrugged. Refused to rise to the bait. She grafted, he’d no idea the hours she’d put in, maybe not with physical work like he did. So what? Hard work didn’t have to involve breaking your back and ruining your fingernails.
“You give me a hand with the horses, just for the next few weeks. Say six? I know you can handle them, I remember that black mare you used to have and the amount of bouncing about you did on her.” He was still grinning, his head tipped to one side. “And off her.” There was a challenge in those gorgeous green eyes.
Boy, yeah, she remembered that mare. She’d never been thrown off an animal so many times in her life, bouncing just wasn’t the word for it, but she’d kept going back for more. And in the end they’d reached a truce. “Horse. You’ve only got one to help with.” This could be a win, win. She got her shoot, a sexy guy on tap for a while, and a chance to exorcise the last unwanted part of this place from her brain. But let him think he was driving a hard bargain.
“I’ve got a long list of people waiting and I do home visits as well. I can get through them quicker if I’ve got a,” he paused, raised an eyebrow as though challenging her, “groom to help.”
“Don’t push it, I’m nobody’s slave labour.” But she needed to know there’d be something to do or she’d be bored rigid. And wound up about being here. I mean they couldn’t just shag all day, could they?
He grinned. “No, can’t picture you as a willing slave, maybe an unwilling one.”
“Stop it, you’re doing it again.”
“I could just do with another pair of hands, some of these horses are tricky and the owners are worse than useless. That’s if you don’t mind a hard ride?”
“Hard suits me fine.” She smiled back, she couldn’t help it. “Oh well, at least I rank above worse than useless, maybe at just useless?”
“Your choice.”
Don’t rush it. Play hard to get for once. Count to ten, well five. “Four weeks. And I’d need to work it round my other jobs.”
“I know. But it’s six weeks, I’ve got jobs lined up that need clearing before the weather gets tricky. Take it or leave it. I’m sure I can find someone else if you’re not interested.”
“Five weeks,” wait for it, don’t lose it now, “but I need you to do something else as well.” She wasn’t going to smile, not yet.
“Five weeks without the something else, six weeks with.”
Shit, since when had bad boy Jake turned into Mr Unyielding businessman? “Done.” She held out a hand before he could change the rules, ask about the something else.
“And I get to do the horny look whenever I want.” He moved off the fence, wrapped his warm, firm fingers around hers and she stared straight into those mossy eyes. Oh yeah, she could cope with the horny look. “And to think about you being my unwilling slave.”
“Do all the thinking you like buster. I do the six weeks, we do the shoot here and,” she resisted the urge to cling onto his hand, “you are in the frame.” She tried not to giggle or whoop.
***
“And what the hell does that mean?” Jake knew he was frowning, and had a horrible feeling he was glaring. He’d come up with the stupid deal on the spur of the moment, not really thinking, just sure that working with the horses would be beneath her. At school she’d been different. Quiet, unassuming, despite the fact that her family obviously had more money to throw around than he’d ever see in a lifetime. But she’d changed, hardened and he didn’t know how deep it went. He’d admired the way she’d handled her horse, but not been under any illusions, for all he knew she’d had an army of grooms at her disposal. But, he wanted her to know that getting what you want sometimes had strings attached. He wasn’t the pushover she was used to, however much she batted her eyelids and thrust those slim hips his way. She was desperate to use this place, he’d seen it in the clenched fists, the casual tone that wasn’t. Which struck him as odd and he had to admit he was curious, even though he had a rule never to be curious about anything.
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