Chapter 6: The Hay Barn

At four o'clock the barn door was shut and the bar was across it from the inside.

I stood in the aisle with my arms crossed, in jeans and a flannel shirt, and I had been standing there since ten to.

Dust hung in the light from the loft hatch.

The hay was stacked to the rafters on both sides, and it smelled of summer.

He came in through the side door, the little one by the tack room.

He shut it behind him and slid the bolt.

"I said once," Amos said.

"You did."

"I meant it."

I stayed where I was.

"Then why are you here?"

He didn't answer.

He walked up the aisle until he was close enough that I could feel the heat of him.

He stopped with his hat in his hand.

His face was grim and white around the mouth.

"You said once," I said. "And you came."

"I said a lot of things."

"You said you'd be my trustee at noon."

He didn't blink.

"I was."

"It's four."

His laugh was short and cracked.

He threw his hat on a bale, and I had barely time to see it land before his hands were on me.

He backed me against the wall of hay with one palm under my jaw.

He kissed me hard enough to hurt.

I kissed him back harder.

I bit his lip and he grunted and shoved his knee between my thighs.

I rode it, shameless, with my head against the bales and the straw scratching my neck.

"You told the whole store," he said into my mouth. "You said it to the whole damn store."

"I said it to Brent."

"I know who you said it to."

His hand tightened in my hair.

"Are you angry?"

"I'm out of my mind," he said.

He tore the buttons of my shirt open with one hand.

They flew and hit the floor.

My breasts came out of the bra when he pulled the cup down.

He took one in his mouth, rough and hungry, and I yelled at the rafters.

"Quiet," he said. "Sound carries to the creek."

"Make me."

He pushed his hand over my mouth.

He didn't squeeze, only covered it, and he looked at me over his fingers with his eyes black.

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