Free Romance: Indecent Love by Lucy James Page A

conspiracy." He leaned further into the engine, reaching his hands in beside mine. "Can you move your hand without..."

As soon as he started the question I knew he needed more room. We had been through this before. I shifted my hand around the part. I might not know what it was called, but I'd helped Mark and Billy fix enough engines in tractors, trucks and other machines to anticipate what they needed. 

"Perfect! Hold it just like that."

He stepped closer to me in order to reach in and start to turn the screws to hold it in place. The left side of his body was pressing up against the right half of my back. I could feel the pressure of his hip against my rear. The remnant of his shower gel and shampoo filled my nostrils as he huffed and puffed, still cursing under his breath, to get the damn bolts in.

"Son of a bitch!" he bellowed, and I heard the distinctive sound of a bolt clattering down through the engine to land on softly on the grass beneath the tractor. "You still got that?"

"Yeah," I answered, still not knowing what 'that' was, but it didn't matter. I knew what he was talking about.

He straightened up and crawled under the tractor for the bolt, cursing and muttering the whole time. His fingers crept though the grass, trying to locate it. I couldn't help but smile. 'He is so much like his father,' I thought to myself.

He stood back up and pulled his shirt off in agitation, tossing it off to the side. "I hope this is the right size," he said, looking closely at the screw in his hands. "I'll be very unhappy if the clerk sold me the wrong fucking part." 

I was supposed to be looking at his hands and studying that bolt around in his fingers while he checked the grooves. Somehow though, I saw through that piece of metal to the muscle tone of his tanned chest. It was hard to believe that this was the same scrawny, skinny little boy of a few years ago. He filled out nicely as he grew up, building muscle tone with hard labor, getting a tan while mowing lawns or working the fields.

He looked up at me by only moving his eyes and I met his gaze easily. "Want to give it one more try?" I asked.

He didn't answer me as he raised his head to look me fully in the face. In a split second, his expression changed. It was now guarded and solicitous. 

"What's wrong?" I asked, as he walked around me to try again. This time he avoided contact with me while he reached in to secure the part.

"Nothing," he replied yet his tone suggested otherwise. He seemed tense all of a sudden and I had no idea what had caused it. The change was unexpected and starting to make me uncomfortable.

I remained silent while he scrambled to get the screws in. I didn’t want him to know that the part was starting to get heavy in my fingers. My wrist was cramping from holding it at an odd angle. I kept telling myself, 'he just needs one more minute', willing myself to not let the part slip out of place.

Suddenly he dropped the bolt again. I wasn't so sure it had been accidental this time. He breathed in deeply and placed his hands on the fender of the tractor.

"Are you okay?" I finally asked. "Maybe I can give it a try. This thing is starting to get heavy. We could switch." 

"You have no fucking idea what you do sometimes, do you?" he snapped at me in agitation.

"Excuse me?" I returned indignantly. "I know you're agitated about the tractor but that's no reason to take it out on me! I'm the one trying to help you!"

I expected him to turn away mumbling an apology and crawl under the tractor for the bolt. We would continue as though nothing had happened. That is how it always was when he got wrapped around the axle unnecessarily.

He started to turn his head away but then stopped. His eyes slid to their corners to look at me before he slowly turned his head to face me fully. "No," he stated with conviction. "I'm not letting it slide this time." He moved closer to me, making me tilt my head up just that extra couple of inches to