Carnal Compromise by Robin L. Rotham

dead or maimed workers on my crew.”
    “Yes, sir,” Seth said glumly.
    Brent watched the ease with which Seth took the steps to the tractor and wanted to call him back and chew on his twenty-year-old ass a while longer. Little bastard didn’t realize how good he had it. Just wait ’til he was over forty, carried twenty more pounds and had joints that crackled like a bowl of Rice Krispies every time he went up and down the ladder—then he could bitch about clearing clogs.
    Feeling old and worn out, Brent climbed up and plopped his ass into the combine seat with a big sigh. Some days it just didn’t pay to get out of bed.
    Seth wasn’t exaggerating when he said the field was tough as shit. Brent had to get out and clear a dozen clogs before quitting time rolled around at ten. The other teams had already finished up and left for the evening, and since there were only three or four rounds left, he sent Seth and Tim on their way. There was no rule that said the boss couldn’t work after ten, so he’d just finish off this field and drive the tractor and wagons back to the staging area. He could take the ATV to the camper and come back for the combine tomorrow morning.
     
     
    Wrapped up in an afghan on the couch, AJ gave one last disgusted sigh before she turned off the TV. How could there be over a hundred channels of nothing on?
    She dropped the remote on the carpet and thought about going to bed. Joe had dropped her off at ten, saying he was going to town for a beer and a bite to eat, and she hadn’t argued or asked to come along. There hadn’t been time for a thorough shower this morning and it had been a long day filled with dirty work, so the last thing she wanted was to go hang out in the bar. AJ hadn’t argued with Brent either when he called and said he’d be another hour or so. She was thrilled to have the camper to herself for a while so she could bathe everything that needed bathing, shave everything that needed shaving and pluck everything that needed plucking in complete privacy.
    Now she was clean as a whistle, smooth as a baby’s bottom and wearing a halfway cute camisole and pajama bottoms—and she was still alone at one-thirty in the morning. Brent had probably stopped at the bar, too. Just a few days ago, she’d have figured he and Joe were out someplace doing each other, but not anymore. Not after last night. More likely they were drinking manly drinks, slapping each other on the back for another job well done and ignoring the sexual tension between them the way they always had.
    If she were smart, she’d go entertain herself with her vibrator and fantasies the way she always had, but the idea left her cold. Now that she’d had a taste of the real thing…
    Her chest rose and fell in a heavy sigh. Whatever they were up to, they obviously weren’t too anxious to get home to her, a state of affairs she was all too familiar with thanks to the way things had ended with Rob. It was a given that sooner or later the same thing would happen with Joe and Brent, but she hadn’t expected it to happen after just one night.
    Maybe it would be best for all of them if they just called it quits now, as Joe had suggested. Despite her determination to keep her interest in them strictly physical, it already hurt to be so easily dismissed again, so readily forgotten by them both. She could only imagine how frantic and needy she’d feel after a few weeks of their sporadic attentions, and dammit, she just wasn’t ready to fall into that emotional sinkhole again. Would never be ready.
    No falling in love. It was her own rule and it was a good one, but clearly she was already in danger of breaking it. She should just pack up and move on now, take herself out of their dysfunctional equation while she still had her pride.
    On the other hand, her pride wouldn’t keep her warm at night or fulfill her wildest fantasies, would it?
    AJ stood up, giving herself a mental kick in the ass as she wrapped the quilt around