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But I am, at least I want to be. I really want goats and sheep and maybe some chickens. And ponies. Dogs, too.
I’m getting carried away but I don’t care. Anything feels possible here.
“Maybe Carrie can be a farmer,” Michael says and I smile to remember how well he’s gotten to know me over the months.
“Maybe I can,” I grin.
“Forget it,” Jack says. “One crow was enough.” But his eyes linger on mine, and I wonder.
I daren’t even hope.
“Right,” he says and finishes up his coffee. “You’d better get dressed, missy. I can’t wait to see your handiwork.”
That’s good, because I can’t wait to show it to him either.JackSheep and goats and ponies.
Fuck that.
I can only imagine the chaos if our sweet little Carrie had a whole menagerie to take care of. And yet the thought makes me smile to myself as we leap across the brook after her.
She’s so alive out here, our gypsy girl. Her wind-whipped hair flies wild and her cheeks are rosy pink. She’s nimble on the banks and quick over the fences, putting us to shame as she scrambles up and over in a flash.
She belongs out here. This land is more hers than mine, even though it’s my name on the deeds.
I make her wait for the praise, eyes like saucers as she watches me examine her new fence panels.
“Well?” she asks finally. “Are they good or what?”
I take a breath as though I’m about to deliver bad news, but Michael blows my ruse.
“He’s dicking about with you,” he says. “He’s impressed.”
“I’m impressed,” I admit. “You did great.”
My heart flutters like a fucking sap as her chest puffs up proud. “I told you,” she says. “It’s in my blood. It’s all in my blood.”
“Goats and sheep and chickens, too?” Michael adds.
She nods. “And ponies. And dogs.”
I tip my head. “Maybe a couple of chickens, for the eggs. You can clean the fuckers out though, they’re vicious.”
Her shock is intoxicating. Almost enough to tell her she can have the whole bastard farm if she wants it.
“Really?! I can have chickens?”
“A couple,” I say. “Enough for the three of us to have eggs in the mornings.”
I don’t realise what I’m saying until it’s out there in the air. Michael stares at me and I stare back, and Carrie stares between us with her pretty mouth open.
“I mean, when you stay over,” I add, but it’s too late for that.
I curse my big mouth when he doesn’t say a word, convinced that this may be the straw that breaks his sensible back and sends him running back to normality.
But it doesn’t. Credit where it’s due, the guy is adapting much more readily to all this than I thought he would.
“I like eggs,” he says. “I could be persuaded to muck in with the shit-shovelling if there was a hot breakfast on the other side of it.”
“Deal,” Carrie says.
I start walking before I can say anything else dumb, skirting the edge of the field as they follow behind, checking out Carrie’s hard work until I come to the spot on the bank that she must have taken her slutty selfie from. I recognise the tree down below, the line of hedge running off to the right.
“You took it here, didn’t you?” I ask. “The dirty photo.”
Her eyes are full of devilment. She marches up to me and plants her boot in the mud about a foot away. “Here,” she says. “I stood right here and I thought of you.”
“What did you think about?” Michael asks, and I’m sure there’s a thickness to his voice.
Carrie laughs before she answers. “I thought about showing you the selfie. I thought about how angry you might be if you knew I was flashing my tits around the countryside.”
“There’s nobody about to see them,” I counter.
But she grins.
“There is today,” Michael says, and she nods.
I think I’m beyond surprises at this point, but I’m not. The way he closes the distance between them and unzips her coat is nothing short of ferocious. She gasps as he tugs down her nice clean cami and her bra with it, offering up her pretty tits without hesitation.
“I want you out here,” she says. “I want you both out here. It’s where I belong.”
Mike takes her jeans down to her knees. He drops her onto the mud and guides her onto all fours like a man possessed.
I don’t understand it until I hear him speak.
“This is how I dreamt of you,” he tells her. “With your knees in the mud and the wind in your face.”
I can’t help but grin as he takes out his dick and he’s rock hard.
Carrie flattens her tits to the floor, the ground against her cheek. “Take me,” she hisses and he drops down behind her.
I dig my dick out of my jeans and gawp like a fucking idiot, but this is their time. Their moment.
