Fakers (Licking Thicket 1)

Holy fuck, I wanted to kiss him. Just looking at his tired blue eyes and his mulish expression and his lips—those fucking lips—was a unique kind of torture that made my legs shake with the desire to get closer to him and my hands tremble with the need to touch him. But I would not. Not not not.

“He has automatic milkers, Mal.”

“Huh?”

“Giant metal building down that way? It’s a milking parlor. He hooks a whole bunch of cows up at once. The milking part takes just a few minutes.”

“But then…?” He looked from Annabelle to the empty bucket. “Was this just a joke?”

I pushed off the wall and walked toward him. He sounded genuinely upset, and that didn’t sit right with me. “Nah, Mr. Ivey’s not like that. I mean, the part where he didn’t tell you Annabelle was a kicker was probably his idea of a joke. There’s a kick bar over there by the wall by those old buckets and the stanchion, but he had to know you didn’t know what it was.”

I nudged Mal gently in the side with my knee and he scowled but stood, letting me take his place on the stool. I steadied the pail and started milking Annabelle with no fuss whatsoever.

Apparently cow milking was one of those riding-a-bike life skills. Who knew?

“Anyway, Mr. Ivey probably just wanted to learn more about you, you know? Like, how you handle adversity or some shit. When Ava and I dated, he did almost the same thing to me. I mean, I knew how to milk, obviously, so he—” Mal wandered over to the wall, distracting me because my eyes naturally wanted to follow him. He picked up the stanchion. “Oh, that’s not the kick bar, that’s the—”

“Stanchion,” he said crankily. “Yes, I know. I’m looking at it for its sculptural aesthetic, not its function, okay?”

“Chill out, I was just trying to—”

“Be perfect at absolutely everything? Yeah, no, I’ve seen that in action today plenty, thanks.”

I blinked up at him. “The what now?”

“Oh, I could totally do your piano concert, Mrs. Whoever, but I’d hate to upstage the children! Sure, I’ll collect milk with magic! I’ll throw footballs! I love yarn crafts! Pick me, pick me!” He rolled his eyes. “Tell the truth, Brooks, are you a really clever robot? Or are you so used to wearing polite masks you don’t even notice them anymore?”

I felt my jaw drop. “That is not…” I began. But all I could think was, I definitely noticed the polite masks. I just didn’t think anyone else ever had. Not my parents, or my siblings, or the girl I’d dated for a year in high school, or the people I worked with now.

So how the fuck had this guy?

“Stand aside and let me milk your cow,” Mal continued. “Let me save Ava. Let me rescue the town from having a no good, very bad Lick-fest. Brooks Johnson is all things to all people. He fixes everything!” He folded his arms over his chest. “You know, it’s okay not to be perfectly perfect all the time, right? That it’s actually really fucking off-putting?”

I swallowed hard. Wow. Okay, then. I’d thought we’d shared a moment earlier in the day. I’d thought we were about to sign some kind of peace treaty here. Apparently I’d misread his feelings the way he’d misread the cow’s.

I stood up. “Gosh, that’s so helpful to know. Thank you, Mal,” I whispered fervently. “I guess I’ll leave you to it.” I swept my arm toward the stool and the half-full bucket like a magician’s assistant. “Good luck.”

He raised his chin—which should not have inspired a Pavlovian lust response in my gut, for God’s sake—and took a step toward me. “I am perfectly capable of doing it.”

“Absolutely, you are,” I agreed brightly. Then under my breath added, “Despite all evidence to the contrary.”

“You can leave now,” he said imperiously, pausing directly in front of me. “Surely there are a hundred things that require your attention as Head Licker…” He leaned forward and whispered, “Boss.”

My cheeks went hot, but at least now I could see why he was being so snippy with me. “I’m sorry about that. Second Licker’s not really a thing. But… I was just so… You make me so…” I took a breath. “Anyway, this is the thing that requires my attention, Mal. I’m here collecting milk, remember? Old Bert will be along any minute, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want him waiting, what with his bursitis and all. Or is politeness a sign of being a robot too?”

He narrowed his eyes, but I could still see the blue fire in their depths. “You’re infuriating. Has anyone ever told you that? And don’t blame me for you being ‘so.’” He used air quotes and sarcasm which reminded me so much of Ava, it almost made me smile.