“I need to teach you to run the new tractor,” Rachel said over morning coffee, watching Jack over the rim of her mug. “It’s the last piece of equipment you need to learn before spring planting.”
“Okay.” His voice was carefully neutral, but his eyes were dark. “When?”
“This afternoon. We’ll take it out to the far field.”
The morning dragged by, both of them hyper-aware of each other. Rachel changed her dress twice before settling on a deep red one — for Valentine’s Day, she told herself, though she knew it was for him. She kept the boots on because they made her feel sexier when she was wearing a dress.
When they walked out to where the new tractor sat, the air between them crackled with tension.
“It’s bigger than what you’re used to,” Rachel said, climbing up into the cabin. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
Jack followed her up into the cabin, which suddenly felt very small with both of them in it. Rachel was acutely aware of his proximity, the heat of his body, the way he smelled, clean sweat and soap and something uniquely him.
“Okay,” she said, trying to focus. “This is the main control panel. Throttle here, gear shift here. You start it like this…”
She walked him through the basics, hyperaware of every time their arms brushed, every time he leaned close to see what she was pointing at. Jack’s attention was split between the lesson and her, his eyes constantly straying to her face, her neck, the way her dress pulled across her chest.
“You want to try?” she asked finally.
He nodded and slid into the driver’s seat. Rachel stood beside him, one hand on his shoulder as he started the tractor and began moving it slowly across the field. She could feel the tension in him, the barely controlled youthful energy.
“You’re doing well,” she said, her voice softer than intended.
“Thanks.” He didn’t look at her, keeping his eyes fixed forward. “This is actually easier than I thought.”
Her hand slid from his shoulder down his arm, and she felt him shudder. “Jack.”
“Yeah?” His voice was strained.
“Look at me.”
He did, and the raw want in his eyes nearly undid her. They stared at each other for a long moment, the tractor still rolling forward, the world narrowing to just the two of them in this small space.
“Do you know what today is?” she asked quietly.
“Valentine’s Day.”
“Do you have a valentine, Jack?”
“No.” His hands were white-knuckled on the wheel. “You?”
“No.” She moved closer, her hip against his shoulder. “Would you like one?”
“Rachel…” His voice was almost a groan. “What are you doing?”
“I think you know.”
She could see him struggling with control, with the fact that she was his boss and seventeen years older. But the wanting was stronger. She could see it in every line of his body.
“I can’t concentrate when you’re…” he started.
“Sure you can.” She shifted, and then,deliberately, decisively, straddled his lap, facing him, her dress riding up her thighs.
Jack made a choked sound. “Jesus Christ. Rachel, I can’t…”
“Keep driving,” she murmured against his neck. “Just keep the tractor straight.”