Grey’s nose twitched, capturing the alluring scent. Way better than cow shit, or almost anything he could think of. He rubbed his callused palms together, thinking about going into the kitchen after they off-loaded the bales. It was a distraction from the nerves rampaging in his stomach at the thought of the conversation that had to happen soon. If he was smart, he’d let it wait until his father was full-bellied after a hearty meal.
Grey jumped down, listening to his papà’s barrage of instructions, as if they all didn’t know how to operate the bale elevator, or stack hay. They’d been doing this for years, for Christ’s sake. Every word from that man’s mouth was gasoline on the fire in Grey’s belly to get the hell out. Every muscle ache, every creak in his bones, every scratch or cut on his skin, drove the flames higher.
He stretched his neck, pinched his mouth shut, and took up his position at the elevator, ready to unload his last bales of hay. If he never saw hay again, he’d be as happy as… a chef in a kitchen.
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Author of smart, sexy characters, J.M. Adele loves to flit between the dark and light sides of romance. Somewhere along the way an almost constant procession of imaginary characters settled into her thoughts and she picked up a pen to share their stories.
She lives in Queensland with her three greatest loves, her children. When she’s not writing or being a mum, you might find her hiking up a mountain, singing in the car when nobody is looking, or curled up with a good book.
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