Cream of the Crop (Hudson Valley, #2)(22)
Oscar was cutting across the field, his big, long strides taking up probably twenty yards at a clip. Fucking Paul Bunyan, this guy. I was pre–panic attack and getting over the pre-pretty quick.
Leo, beautiful and oblivious, just grinned and pointed. “That’s my neighbor Oscar; I let his cows graze on my land sometimes.”
“You don’t say.” My smile felt like it had a lot of teeth. “We’ll be right over.”
Oscar was almost to the fence now. Just another few steps and he’d be here!
I slid low into the backseat. “Roxie, you’re on my list. Scratch that, you are the list.” Was it possible to call a cab to a field? I started looking for an Uber signal.
“Oh, list schmist, I’ll go back to favorite-person status the minute he gets here with that hair, which is glorious by the way,” she said, undoing her seat belt. “I wonder what kind of conditioner he uses for— What the hell are you doing?” She stared down at me.
“Hiding. Which you should try, since once the shock wears off, I’m going to choke you.” I slid down onto the floor. “Is there a trapdoor in here?”
“Oh, stop being so silly about this guy! It’s time to actually meet, without cheese!”
I tugged on her shoulder frantically. “Keep your voice down! He’ll hear you!”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
My pulse was racing. What was it with this guy? And not for nothing, if I was going to meet him this weekend, which I knew was a possibility, I had an outfit and a scenario picked out to boot. Something low-cut, a low-lit bar, some witty repartee, and then hours and hours of sweet sweet f*cking. Nowhere in this possible meeting was I wearing a trendy turtleneck, velvet riding jodhpurs, and another man’s poopy galoshes!
I could hear his deep voice coming closer, answering Leo’s questions with words like “Yeah,” and “Uh-huh,” and “About ten inches.”
I could die.
Roxie argued with me right up until Leo and Oscar were maybe ten feet away from the Jeep. I wasn’t ready to face him yet, not yet. He existed in another space and time, a space called The Market and a time called The Best Ten Minutes of My Saturday Morning, and seeing him here and now was threatening to unravel the continuum that held our fragile universe together!
I couldn’t stand him being real yet. So I handled things like any grown-up, professional, adult woman.
I pulled my turtleneck up and over my face and hid inside my sweater. I could see through the weave two very distinct shadows appear over the back of the Jeep, one impossibly tall.
I could perceive Leo looking back and forth between me and Roxie, her own shadowy figure shaking her head.
“Um, Sugar Snap?” I heard Leo say.
No use. I couldn’t stay inside my sweater forever. I took a deep breath, inhaling a hit of confidence from the perfumed cashmere, and peeked over the top.
Staring down at me with a curious look was Oscar. His gray-blue eyes had a touch of amusement mixed in with the what-the-hell. And as I pulled the sweater further down my face, his eyes changed from confusion to recognition. And as realization dawned, a flare of heat flashed through them.
“Brie,” he breathed, placing the face and my order at the same time.
“Oh. Yes.”
Roxie was shaking her head back and forth so quickly she was going to give herself whiplash. “I gave you the perfect opportunity, and I mean the perfect opportunity, to talk to him, to turn on the old Natalie charm and make him want you. You were trapped in a field, in a Jeep, surrounded by cows, his cows, mind you. You literally had nowhere to go, nowhere to run. And what did you do?”
“I ran,” I answered, laying my head down on the dashboard. “I. Ran.”
“Across a field.”
“Covered in cows.”
“Totally covered in cows!” Roxie exploded.
I turned my face toward her, keeping my head on the dashboard. I’d retreated back into my turtleneck, but my eyes were still peeping out, watching Roxie for any sign that I might still be bordering on charming and not psychotic. “To be fair, I didn’t run very far,” I pointed out. “I turned around.”
“Because a cow was chasing you.”
I went ahead and pulled the turtleneck up and over my entire head. It was true, it was all true. When he’d realized it was me, and we’d completed our Three-Word Waltz, I hadn’t waited around to see what he would say. Because like a flash, I jumped my size-eighteen ass up and over the side of the Jeep, and took off in a shuffle-hop-step across the field, one of Leo’s galoshes hanging halfway off my foot.
Turns out gentle sweet dairy cows get startled when someone comes running, and they don’t always take too kindly to a shuffle-hop-step. One of them came after me, and although it was likely at a pace of about a mile per hour, it looked very fast in my head. I panicked, turned back around, and headed for the Jeep again, while Leo, Roxie, and a beautiful but semifuming Oscar tried to call out alternate directions to me.
“Stop!”
“Keep going!”
“Turn around!”
“Over here!”
“Over there!”
“What the hell are you doing to my cows?”
Luckily, by the time I’d made it back to the Jeep, the men were in the herd, calming down the Bessies, while Roxie was left to calm down this Bessie. And this Bessie directed her to get us the f*ck out of there right the f*ck f*cking now.