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Jay stops the next toss when he spots Solia. He looks at me and raises a brow as if to say, “What have we got here?”
I walk with Solia so I can introduce her. “Hey, guys, this is Solia. We met the other day. Ryan, she’s the one who met your mom.”
Both men appear too stunned to speak. I’m sure it has more to do with the fact that she’s drop-dead gorgeous than that I already met her. They both offer goofy smiles and say hello.
“I’m ready to help.”
“No way. My mother gave me explicit instructions. This is a gift from her, and we are happy to stack it. We’ll be done in no time.” It doesn’t go unnoticed that Ryan is giving her the once-over while he speaks.
“Thank you so much. Seriously, it’s very sweet of you, but am I just supposed to watch while you three sweat, moving wood for the next however many hours?”
I speak up, a ping of jealousy piercing my heart. Secretly not wanting any of her attention going toward my two friends, I clear my throat louder than necessary. “We’ll finish in no time. Do whatever you need to do. We’ve got this.”
“If you say so. I’ll see you later, Jackson.” Solia smiles and heads back into the house.
Without saying a word, I can almost read the guys’ minds and predict exactly what is coming next. There is no way to avoid the onslaught of questions.
10
SOLIA
You’ll never guess what is going on outside my window.
MIA
Well???
Three sweat-drenched hot guys in my backyard stacking two cords of wood.
FaceTime me right now.
No way, you won’t be able to control yourself. I was going to call you later. One of these guys is the hot farmer.
Dish it.
I’ll fill you in when you come for the weekend, but me and the farmer have our first official date in a couple hours.
Is wood stacking a kind of foreplay out there?
Hahaha, no. I had no warning, no idea he was coming this morning to do this. My dad’s friend ended up being the woman I ordered the wood from. Her son, Ryan, and his two friends are the muscle she offered.
Nice. Muscles? Tattoos? Big, strong hands? Snap a pic.
Let’s just say, mine is tall, tan, and looks chiseled from stone. The sweat is literally dripping through the crevices of his six-pack and into his briefs. Fitted jeans. Work boots. Hat backward. Dying . . .
Name?
Jackson. Remind me to tell you the story of how I acted like a jealous freak.
Seriously, Solia. You must have it bad. You’re not the jealous type. Any eye candy for me?
What has gotten into me? Are you still taken?
Nope, I ended it. It was a long time coming. You knew it, I knew it. I am as free as a bird and ready to get dirty.
You are too much, but I’ll need details. I guess you’ll just have to get your butt here and see if steamy backwoods guys are your thing. But I will say they don’t make men like these where we’re from.
K, how’s the weekend after the Fourth?
