Now it’s my turn to frown. This girl is clever. That’s exactly what all the off-grid farm books I read suggest. I’d even been thinking of getting some potting soil and seeds and starting the farm project myself while I’m here. I wanted to give Mitch and Nico something that would lessen the blow of the decision I’d made at the end of the football season.
But here Goldilocks comes messing with that plan, too.
I turn back to my sandwich so that I don’t have to look at her as I answer, “There’s a whole row of books about starting your own farm in the living room. Read them if you want. I don’t give a shit.”
There’s a little pause. Then she says, “Thank you.”
Fuck, if that sweet Southern accent of hers doesn’t make me think of not so sweet things. Like her pretty lips wrapped around one of my brother’s dicks as I force her head up and down on it.
But no, I gotta be strong. My recent decision will only confuse Mitch and Nico more if I give in to those thoughts.
I finish making my sandwiches and gobble them down. Afterwards, I’m technically full. But I’m still hungry.
At least Mitch and Nico are done playing host. We spend the rest of the day carrying in the drywall, flooring, and all the plumbing and electrical supplies we’ll need to finish out the second floor of our cabin. Don’t think I’m going to have to worry too much about off-season training this year. Carrying all those supplies up the stairs is a son of a bitch, even for three big guys like us. And it takes us all day to get everything inside.
There’d been some debate about whether to put one or two sets of stairs in the house last year. But I’m glad installing stairs in the middle of the house and off the kitchen near the back door won out in the end. That means I don’t have to see Goldie, who’s hanging out in the living room for the rest of the afternoon. Not until we finish hauling everything we’ll need for the second floor project upstairs and head to the front of the house for showers.
However, not seeing her for a few hours, that doesn’t keep my heart from stuttering a little when we find Goldie curled up on the couch asleep with The Four Season Harvest lying open in front of her. She’s shed Nico’s jacket, and she must have twisted and turned some in her sleep. The t-shirt’s ridden up, exposing just enough of her ass and pussy to make my mouth water.
To make all our mouths water.
Behind me, Nico says, “I’m making frozen pizzas for dinner. I’m not sure how much longer I can wait.”
“Good idea, man,” Mitch mutters.
But I don’t say shit. Just head for the bathroom I share with Mitch and point the shower level straight to cold. The cold water doesn’t work, though. I have to place a hand on the wall and jack myself off to get rid of the boner.
Afterwards, I breathe, hard and angry as the icy water crashes over me. If this is me after one glimpse at her exposed bottom, how am I going to get through a whole week?
Of course, Mitch is waiting when I come out of the bathroom, sitting at the edge of the bed he had made custom for four-person play. “You took quite a while in there.”
The way he’s smirking, he knows exactly why I wasn’t in and out of the shower in my usual ten minutes.
“Fuck you, man,” I answer.
“Nah, that’s Goldie’s job.”
He’s not wrong. I haven’t touched our intruder, but it feels like she’s mind fucking me as soon as I sit down at the table.
I watch her laugh and talk easily with Nico and Mitch about the second floor project and what food crops she’d like to get started. Like they’re old friends already. Not people she just met.
“So have you told your mom and dad about moving out here?” she asks Mitch at one point. “It’s amazing that you were able to get the land back.”
I admire Mitch for taking back his land too, but I gotta say, “You guys obviously don’t give a fuck about our personal security. How much did you tell this rando about us?”
Goldie’s warm smile disappears, and Mitch says, “Don’t look at me. You know Nico likes to talk.”
Nico glances over at Goldie while saying to me, “Jeb, she’s not a random. Don’t call her that. And can we change the subject? You’re making Goldie uncomfortable.”
Of course, Nico only cares about Goldie’s feelings.
I rise from the table, so abruptly, it knocks my chair back.
Goldie jumps, then cast her eyes down like a frightened bird.
“Sorry, Saint Nic, wouldn’t want to make Goldie uncomfortable,” I answer Nico. “I’ll eat out in the shed.”