Rachel Brennan hired Jack Morrow in late January because she was desperate. Earl, the oldtimer who’d stuck with her since Tom died, couldn’t handle the spring prep work alone anymore. The new tractor had arrived, equipment needed servicing, and she needed young, strong hands to get ready for planting season.
She got more than she bargained for.
Jack was twenty-one, tall and lean with shoulders that filled out his work shirts and dark hair that fell nearly to his collar. When they shook hands on that cold January morning, his gray-green eyes held hers a moment too long, and Rachel felt something stir in her that had been dormant for two years.
“Ma’am,” he said, then caught himself. “Ms. Brennan.”
“Rachel’s fine.” She released his hand, noting the calluses, the strength in his grip. “You know your way around a farm?”
“Yes, ma’am. Worked my uncle’s dairy operation till it sold last month.”
She studied him, the directness in his gaze, the way he stood without slouching or false bravado. “You’ll work with Earl getting us ready for spring. I run things. What I say goes.”
“Understood, ma’am.”
The words came out of her mouth unexpectedly and the way he responded with a certain look, sent an unexpected flutter of innuendo through her stomach.
__________
The first week, Jack worked mostly outside with Earl, prepping equipment and checking fence lines. Rachel watched from the farmhouse windows more than she cared to admit, drawn by the sight of him moving with unconscious grace, his breath clouding in the cold air.
She told herself it was just supervision. Making sure the new hire was working out.
She knew it was more than that.
By the third day, she caught him watching her back. She’d come out to check on their progress, wearing a burgundy wool dress that hugged her curves and stopped just above her knees, a cream-colored cardigan with wooden buttons against the February chill, and her best leather boots–the ones with the subtle heel that made her calves look shapely when she walked. When she turned from talking to Earl, Jack’s eyes were on her, specifically on the way the dress hugged her waist and gave a hint at the size of her breasts and the way the boots made her legs look long despite her being shorter than him.
He looked away quickly when their eyes met, color rising in his face. But not before she’d seen the hunger there.
It should have made her uncomfortable. Instead, it made her feel sexually alive for the first time in two years.
__________
By the second week, the watching between the two had become mutual and intentional.
Rachel found excuses to be outside more often, despite the cold. She’d bring coffee to where they were working, stand close to Jack when pointing out something that needed attention, let her hand brush his arm. Each time, she felt him tense, saw his breath catch, watched his eyes darken.
And Jack was barely even trying to hide his gaze anymore.
She’d catch him staring when she walked across the yard, his hands going still on whatever tool he was holding. His eyes would follow the sway of her hips, travel up her body to her face, then jerk away when he realized she’d noticed. But the next day he’d do it again, like he couldn’t help himself.