Credence

“I don’t care,” I spit out and push the plate away.

Everyone quiets, and I stand up and grab an apple from the fruit basket. Taking a bite, I walk over to fill up my water bottle from the refrigerator.

I know I’m being rude, and I’m sorry for it.

Maybe I’ll take a hike. Stretch my legs, give them some space.

The kitchen is quiet for a few more moments, but I hear Noah speak up.

“I’m finishing the Lawrence bike today,” he tells his father, I’d assume. “The guys are coming. I’m gonna take it out to Ransom’s Run. Test it out.”

“Don’t take all day,” Jake tells him, his tone a bite now. “We have more work to do.”

His patience from a moment ago is gone, and I know I pissed him off.

I look over and see him turn to Kaleb next as he stabs his plate with his fork. “And don’t you disappear, either,” he orders his oldest.

All the men fall silent, hurrying through their breakfast, and the tension in the room now thicker than mud.

I twist the lid back on and prepare to leave the dishes for them, but when I turn around to go, I catch Kaleb staring at me again. Except his eyes are on my legs.

I wear ripped jean shorts, not too short, and a flannel buttoned up to my neck.

I drift my gaze around the table, noticing I have more clothes on than any of them. Jake and Kaleb aren’t wearing any shirts, and Noah’s tee has the sides cut out, giving glimpses of the smooth, tan chest underneath.

Kaleb’s black hair against his sun-kissed face.

Jake’s toned shoulders and narrow waist.

The veins in Noah’s forearms and…

I straighten, swallow, and turn around, quickly leaving the room.

I need to get out of here.

I hit the gas and pull the truck up the driveway until I reach the top of the incline, feeling the gravel kick up under me. Turning off the engine, I take the work gloves off the passenger-side seat and hop out of the truck, heading for the bed as I pull them on.

“You find your way okay?” Jake approaches, dropping the tailgate for me.

I nod.

“The guys were helpful?”

“Yes.”

We both hop up into the bed to start unloading the hay.

After breakfast, he’d asked me to take the truck to town to pick up some bales of hay, and I happily agreed once I learned I could go on my own. Some air. Some space. It was just as good as a hike, and hey, I got to go to my first Tack & Feed store. Thankfully, it sported no racks with tabloids for sale, so I was able to avoid news from home.

Music and laughter come from the garage, and I look over, seeing a group of motorbikes parked off to the side. Must be the friends Noah was talking about when he said he was taking the bike out today.

A couple of women hang out nearby as others talk in the garage, and I watch them in their jeans and summer tops, laughing and smiling. How much longer will the weather be nice enough to ride? Seems like fun.

Jake and I unload the hay, gripping the wires and hauling each bale over to the stable. One of the girls smiles as I pass.

None of them wear make-up, no fancy manicures, and no stylish clothes, but they don’t need it. They’re pretty, dressed to play, and for a moment, I want to be one of them.

I carry a bale into the barn, walking it down to a stall. Is Kaleb going with them?