Page 37 of All For You

I caught Darcy’s eye, and we shared a grin at their exchange, until I remembered I was annoyed at him and turned away. I had to admit, though, Emma and Knightley together were entertaining.

Followed closely by Harry, we did another couple of rounds of the pasture, with Emma and Knightley giving each other similar, constant shit. I kept sneaking glances at Darcy, with a grudging admiration that he never complained about the hard labor and never quit.

The men were dripping with sweat and so were we, but we kept going until all the bales had been picked up. Next, it was stacking them in the barn. The guys both leaped onto the back with us, and Darcy sat next to me. There was something about all this, feeling good about the job, the smell of the hay, the dogs so ecstatic you’d think they’d done all the work. Harry lowered his camera and sat opposite us. If this footage was shared on socials, it certainly portrayed Darcy in a better light but he didn’t seem to be playing to the camera.

“Working hard there,” I said to Darcy as we bumped toward the barn.

He took a slug of water. “You too.”

“Seems like not the usual thing either of us does.”

He smiled tentatively, like he knew he wasn’t my favorite. “This is hardly a punishment. It’s a chance for the dogs to be outside and for us to learn to work together. And I get to find out more about you, without toilet paper involved, so, bonus.”

I laughed. “Stop being almost-nice and sort-of friendly. You’re unsettling me.”

He gave me a sweet smile. Seriously, asweetsmile.

I smiled back, and the two of us kept catching each other’s eye and grinning as we unloaded.

Jimbo strolled in and surveyed the empty truck bed and clear field. “Kids, that was a great job.”

“We’re happy to help,” Knightley said.

“Darcy, I hear you have loads of acreage up north,” Jimbo said. “Sure you’ve never done this before?’

“No.” Darcy made a slightly shamed face. “I’m embarrassed to say I’ve only overseen it. But I definitely have a new appreciation for the workers.”

“That’s what I like to hear, mate,” Jimbo said, giving him a hard clap on the back. “Hey. You guys deserve a cool-off in the river.”

“That’s a great idea.” Emma bounced on her heels. “What do you think, Lizzy?”

Swinging his camera off his shoulder, Harry indicated he was heading back to the house but still I hesitated. Maybe I should cut the day short since Darcy was being nice and was bound to revert soon. And we had the makeover to attend later. “I haven’t got a swimsuit with me. None of us have.”

“We’ll just—” Emma said.

“If we go, we’ll swim in our clothes,” I said quickly.

I knew immediately where she was going with this. Emma was totally unselfconscious and used to being stripped down. Her Insta posts were often posing in a bikini or clothing that looked like underwear, whatever the weather. But I wasn’t goingto be in my knickers and bra in front of these guys. Particularly Darcy, whom I barely knew.

“It’s a short walk afterward,” I added before she said more. “Not too far back to the Amor Inn from the water hole, so we won’t get too cold.”

Not that I needed to worry about Darcy agreeing to my suggestion. He would opt for heading back to the safety and quiet of the inn, where, no doubt, he had some edifying tome he was memorizing. We would be free to scream and yell and splash and have a great time at the water hole without his awkward, judgy comments.

“The dogs would love that,” Darcy said. “As would I.”

Um…what? Darcy wanted to go swimming? I loved swimming, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to do this with him around, even if I did keep my shorts and tank on.

But I certainly didn’t want to be a stick-in-the-mud.

Because that washisjob.

CHAPTER 19

Darcy

After a short walk through the shady forest and along the river, a gap in the trees revealed a brilliant shot of blue. The water hole, a beautiful big swirl of clear water, was overlooked by a cluster of weeping willows. I glanced at Lizzy, then at the body of water again. I was going to see her wet. Her body dripping, the shape of her thighs, her breasts, the curve of her delicious arse.

Christ, I was going to make a total fool of myself.