o help with dishes.
It doesn’t seem to matter as the entire place shifts into work mode. Sawyer takes one team of men, Digger takes another, and I take a third. We’re either in the fields helping pick fruit or on the dock helping load crates onto the backs of the trailers.
We lift the heavy crates, one by one, onto the backs of the trucks that will take them to the distribution center. My shirt’s off, but unlike yesterday, I don’t feel like the walking dead.
When we hit eight hours, Sawyer calls it a day for the teams. Noel’s still with the teens on the sorters, finishing up what we’ve just harvested. I’ve been watching her all day, unable to keep my eyes from her smooth body, her cute little ass as she bends and lifts crates and carries baskets of damaged fruit.
Her cheeks are pink, and the strands of hair falling from her high ponytail stick to her neck. It gives me an idea.
Taking a cup of ice water, I walk over behind her at one of the large lazy Susan’s, and quicker than she can move, I drop a large chunk of ice down the back of her shirt.
“Taron!” She screams louder than the heavy machinery and poor Betsy drops a peach.
I take off running, but she’s right behind me, snatching a solo cup of ice water off the ledge. Akela starts to bark and chase us, and we don’t stop until we’re down the hill, breathing hard and laughing. She tosses the water at me, but I don’t even care it’s so damn hot. The dog just stands at attention, waiting excitedly for what the hell we’re about to do next.
“What do you guys do to cool off around here?”
“Well…” Her eyes trickle down my bare chest in a way that kicks the temperature up another thirty degrees, then she glances back toward the shed. “They’re just wrapping up. Come on.”
I follow her around the shed to where a three-wheeler’s parked, watching as she throws a bare leg over the seat and pushes down on the starter. It roars to life, and she gives me a grin.
“You getting on?”
I guess I am.
I climb on behind her, bracing my feet on the pegs and holding her waist as she zips over the hills as fast as this thing can go. Akela keeps pace with us the whole way, barking excitedly.
Noel’s body weight compared to mine is not enough to keep me on this seat, and with every bump, I feel like I might fly off the back.
Still, her hair whips around us, and she’s calling to her dog. She rises off the seat with every bounce, and I do my best to keep my thoughts focused on old lady underwear, scowling politicians—every boner-killer I can imagine.
Finally, we’re there. My hands slide from her waist to her hips, and she quickly steps off to the side. Akela stands waiting.
“Fun, huh?” Her eyes sparkle, and her ponytail is wild.
“I’m surprised you didn’t leave me on the road a ways back,” I tease her. “Where are we?”
“Come on!”
She takes off running up a small rise, Akela right with her, and I hop off the three-wheeler to follow them. When I reach the top of the small hill, we’re looking down over a pond shaded by tall pine trees. At one end is a swirl of small currents, and farther below us, deeper in the dark shadows, I see another swirl.
“What is this?”
“It’s the Bates reservoir.” I watch as she toes off her boots, my stomach tight and my insides humming. “It could be a million degrees out here, and the water’s always like ice.”
She jogs down into the shade of the trees and dips her feet in the shallows, letting out a squeal. “Freezing!”
“How deep is it?” I follow her lead, toeing off my boots and grinning like an idiot watching her.
“About five feet, I think.”
She’s still dancing around the edge with her dog, barely getting her feet wet, when without thinking, I race down to where she’s standing and sweep her over my shoulder.
“Taron!” She screams at the top of her lungs. “Don’t you dare!”
“Payback time!”
“Nooo!” She beats on my lower back as I charge into the water, Akela right with us barking, and holy shit! It is like ice.