Looking for Love (20 page)

“
I’ll survive. Not like I change my bedding all that
often.”

“
Ew.” She scrunched up her long nose and walked to the door.
“Make yourself at home.”

She hesitated a second and he
stood
watching her while her presence filled the room and cloaked
him. Then she was gone. He dressed quickly into shorts and a
t-shirt without bothering to unpack, then escaped outside to find
her. After some horizon searching, he discovered she’d already
covered a considerable distance. She stood guarding a container
with grain inside. A couple of men tipped wheelbarrows of grain
into the container while she watched on like a true
manager.

He came up behind her, unable to
resist touching her any longer, and blindfolded her with his hands.
She gasped and spun around, taking her breath in spurts, and
looking very flustered. Had
his touch had that effect on her?

“
Ross, I didn’t expect you
outside so soon.”

“
You got quite far. I had to search for you. What can I
do?”

“
I don’t know. Check on the other
container, make sure they keep coming with more.” She pointed to
one about ten metres away. “And make sure they fill it to the brim.
Gran says they must be packed tight so bugs don’t have room to
thrive inside. We’re actually supposed to only do this in the
morning when it’s drier but the air is pretty dry here at the
moment, so I used my initiative and decided to make a day of it
today—do some catch-up so when I leave, she has less to worry
about.”

“
You’re a farm manager now.” He
spoke close to her ear, deliberately brushing her hair with his
lips. She didn’t move away as he expected but remained frozen in
place. The tension between them could be cut with a
knife.

“
I-
I’m trying.”

“
A cute one.” He ran his finger down her arm.

“
Ross, stop flirting.” She
smacked him lightly on the shoulder. He sensed less tension though,
less aggression than before, as though she may actually want him to
continue flirting with her. “Now, go do some work, will you. Seeing
you came here early for that very reason.”

“
Yes, ma-am.” He saluted
her.

The next hour was
yawn-worthy
,
to say the least. He had a couple of men come with wheelbarrows,
but other than that, the only interest was the scenery and Ella’s
legs in shorts. She waved to him to come over. In the afternoon
sun, he’d developed a sweat and felt the heat upon his skin. The
little breeze didn’t ease the stifled feeling. She pointed up at
the sky and he saw a dark mass of clouds towards the
east.

“
Time to pack up,” she urged.
“
We don’t
often seem to get weather here. Must come from the
lowveld.”

“
What about the grain?”

“
I know. It definitely mustn’t get wet.” She scratched the top
of her head. “I’m getting stressed here. What should I
do?”

“
Okay, let’s see. These containers—are they
waterproof?”

“
Not exactly.”

“
Then we need to get them in the barn.”

“
How?”

“
What trailers do you have for the tractors?”

“
Well, there’s a whole lot of
equipment in the barn but I have no idea what it is. I steer clear
of those type of things.”

He smiled
tenderly. “You’ve done a great job on the farm so far. Come, let’s
go to the barn.”

He w
alked briskly with Ella in tow and
they entered the dim building, the sparse lighting compounded by
the darkening sky outside. He squinted to take in what was on
offer. After a few seconds, he could make out several trailers. One
caught his eye but would still prove an immense challenge—a flatbed
trailer with a nice surface area. But how would he strap the
containers on? Then he saw it—a much smaller one with sides. It
would probably fit only one at a time and the containers may still
need securing.

“
How many containers do you have? Just the two?”

“
Um…there’re actually six.”

He peered back
out at the darkening sky and shook his head. “Gee, this is tough.
Don’t you prepare for weather?”

“
We don’t usually have much rain here in autumn. Well, that’s
what Gran said.”

“
You still have to make sure.” He
came up to her when he saw the distress on her face. “I’m sorry,
Ella, you’re not the farm manager. You’re just—”

“
I’m just?”

Close up, he
r eyes were doe-like and
enchanting in the eerie light.

“
Beautiful.”

His voice thickened and he moved
closer. She didn’t
withdraw. They were suspended in another realm, away from
the stresses, ignoring the storm for a moment. He bent down to kiss
her and felt the irresistible softness of her lips melt his body
into a puddle on the barn floor. She whimpered and he pressed
closer, taking her into a delicious embrace where her grassy and
strawberry scent filled him, her hair brushed against his cheek and
neck, and her sweet form stirred up arousal to the point of
discomfort. He ran more kisses down her cheek, her neck, and back
up to her mouth which opened up to receive his tongue. Fervent
touch of tongues sent the world swirling upside down and back
again. He didn’t want to stop for breath but eventually pulled
away, still keeping her in his arms.

Thunder
rumbles broke the haze of need, of pleasure supreme.

“
We’d better make hay while the sun shines. Who drives the
tractors?”

She spoke with a wobbly
voice.
“Several men here do but I have no clue where they are at
the moment.”

His gaze zoned in on her plump,
ready lips and
he wished they could find time for more. Then it hit him.
She hadn’t pushed him away. She’d enjoyed that kiss as much as he.
Her flushed cheeks, the drugged look in her eyes, even her stance,
told him she’d loved it. And maybe had longed for it. Sweet hope
surged through his being, buoying him on.

“
I’ll drive the tractor.”

“
No, Ross, it’s not safe. Have you ever…?”

“
I’ve driven a forklift.”

“
That’s vastly different.”

“
How difficult could it be?”

Another rumble
shuddered through them.

“
I
’ll get the keys.” She ran off.

It took Ross and Ella, and eventually a
handful of labourers who’d come to the containers, two hours to get
the vats into the barn. Ella had covered the grain with large tent
ground sheets from her gran’s garage in the meantime as the rain
hadn’t waited for them. By the time they’d safely secured the six
containers, the rain had stopped. Ella’s hairband had disappeared
somewhere on the farm and her semi-wet hair hung like matted
strings on her shoulders. Her mascara had run down in streaks and
eventually washed away. Yet, she still held that healthy flush in
her cheeks and her eyes shone. Until they went back toward the
farmhouse once the sun had set and all the labourers had gone home.
Then her eyes were circled by a frown and dark rings. The day had
taken its toll.

Her body stiffened
by the door. “I
haven’t checked on my gran in hours. I hope she’s okay.”

“
Don’t you want to bathe first
and warm up?”

“
I have to check. And tell her you came and what’s happened
since.”

He nodded and went to find some hot water
to freshen up his body. While he stood beneath the invigorating
spray of the guest shower, he dreamed of the kiss.

But then his mind tortured him
with questions and fears. Would she withdraw again? Had he pushed
her too far this time? What assurance did he have she’d want to
commit to them long term? Gut feel told him the storm wasn’t over.
Yes, the rain outside had stopped, but he had a feeling the thunder
would still rumble through his life
and relationship with Ella. He didn’t want
to lose her. They belonged together. How could he have taken so
long to realise it? And how did he convince her he was in it for
good and he loved her more than anyone else ever could?

Ella closed her eyes while the countryside
streamed by as they left her Gran’s place. Ross hadn’t said
much—just polite interaction about the journey and the last few
busy days getting everything in place before they left. She didn’t
want to talk, either. The last time she’d visited her gran, she
hadn’t felt such a heaviness leaving. A sinking sadness. Like half
her heart being left behind in Mpumalanga. Why couldn’t they live
closer? Her mom lived in Richards Bay so they saw each other often.
But this time, she’d developed a special bond with her gran, even
more so than ever. Maybe it was hearing Gran’s story about her
stormy romantic history—a lot like her own, not finding the right
man. Could she be the problem? Dirk was perfect from what she knew
of him. Good looking, gentle, kind, decent conversation,
sexy.

It was because
she couldn’t say goodbye to Ross.

And the kiss in the barn hadn’t
helped. She’d decided that night
after the kiss, once she’d collapsed
exhausted into bed, that it wouldn’t happen again so she’d kept her
distance.

Chancing a glance at him
driving next to her
took her breath away. Since when did Ross cause her heart to do a
painful twist every time she looked at him? A longing, an ache, a
need so intense, it proved frightening. She looked down at his
tight thighs against his man jeans and sexual arousal rose up
ferociously in her. Saliva pooled in her mouth and she turned away,
fire lighting up her whole body. She closed her eyes and the kiss
replayed in her mind. She didn’t want to cut the memory of it away.
It made her feel alive, dangerous, crazy. She wanted that feeling
with all her being, except for the very sensible part of her that
didn’t want to get hurt.

But would Ross
really hurt her?

He’d been pretty withdrawn since that
kiss. The flirtatiousness had fled. Had he regretted it, decided
she didn’t kiss as well as he’d hoped? How could she relax and give
all when he didn’t give his all? Even if she had decided to
withdraw, if he really wanted her, wouldn’t he keep at it? Keep
flirting like he’d done when he first arrived on the farm? Assure
her his love was real?

The silence between them went on forever
like the road back home.

Home. Could she do it? Go back to the
routine after the last few weeks, a vastly different experience?
Somehow, she’d thrived on the challenge of running the farm, of
keeping her gran happy. The crazy cold weather and the country air
had invigorated her. And that kiss? In the barn? The best of her
life so far. She’d never forget it. Never let go of the memory that
she’d kissed her best friend in a thunderstorm in a dark, dusty
barn and experienced a sensory explosion that had rocked her core.
That had stirred up in her a need so vast and so unquenchable. Or
so it felt. She couldn’t look at him the same way anymore. Their
friendship as it stood was over. It was all or nothing now. And she
couldn’t do either. She was well and truly screwed.

She squeezed her eyes shut. And
how on
Earth
would she work with
The Album
now? As much as it meant so much more to her knowing Gran
had given it to her, she couldn’t lie anymore about her fear of
playing god with people’s lives. An errant tear escaped from her
eyes despite them being closed tight.

“
Ella.”

She popped her
eyes open at the concern in his voice.

“
What’s wrong?”

Ross
gazed at her, warmth and kindness in
his face. Her heart did another painful twist. How could she say
goodbye to him?

“
I-I can’t do it
anymore.”

“
Do what?” He went pale and his
knuckles reddened as he gripped the steering wheel.

No, she couldn’t turn him away
now. After all he’d done for her. She’d have to come up with a plan
to end the friendship without ripping his heart out
of his chest. If he
cared that much.

“
I can’t play god anymore with
people’s lives.”

He let out a breath but glanced
back at her, still carrying that concerned face blended with a male
protectiveness. “
The Album
?”

“
Do you know that Gran gave it to me? She’d dreamed of using it
herself but never did. Uncle Stan left it to her.”

“
Oh, that could explain the mystery somewhat. So, why do want
to give up so soon?”

She stared at him, aware her
mouth had gaped open. “What? You hated
The Album
. Hated the whole business
idea.”

“
I did, but now I can see it may be the right thing for
you.”

“
How?”

“
You enjoy making people happy. I saw at the farm how you
thrived on helping your gran, even the labourers sometimes. You’re
at your best in those moments.”

She smiled. Ross had always been
extremely perceptive at reading people. He’d probably be better at
using
The
Album
than
she but she could never imagine him doing it. The idea brought a
giggle to her lips, sending a sceptical look from him her way. “I’m
trying to imagine you using
The Album
.”