Worth the Weight by Mara Jacobs Page B

tired, so by the time they put away the unused quarts, they pretty much just throw them in this general direction. They’re good kids, though.”
    She watched as he quickly put the work area back together. He was putting the stacks on several tables constructed from wooden planks over sawhorses. The tables held empty quarts and several wooden carriers, designed to carry ten quarts at a time. The side of the barn directly across from him, to Lizzie’s right, contained bales of hay piled high, a pitchfork and three wheelbarrows, their paint chipped and peeling. The hay was to put on the bed of the fields during picking time, and to cover the plants after the season. The rest of the barn was empty, including the eight stalls, and once again she wondered what had happened to Finn ’s horses. She wasn’t about to ask, though . One uncomfortable subject at a time.
    “Back to Stevie.”
    “Right. I don’t know .” He finished his work and was at her side once again. He stood with his hands on his hips, his fingers just barely entering the tops of the pockets of his jeans. Wranglers, she noted. He’d always worn Wranglers and she had always hated it. Only real cowboys wore Wranglers. Nobody in the U.P., they all wore tried and true Levi’s.
    They sure did fit him well, though. She found herself drawn more to the fit of the jeans across his backside than the label that resided there. That may have been a first for label-conscious Lizzie.
    “I’m certainly not hiding Stevie from you, it’s just that, bringing kids into what I took our arrangement to be, didn’t seem…necessary.”
    “And just what exactly do you take our...arrangement…to be?”
    “I thought we made that clear the other night. Actually, I think you were the one who set up the rules of the game.”
    “You’re right, I did. Still want to play?”
    He raised his eyebrows in a “what do you think” way. He reached out his hands, intending them for her waist, but looked down to see their appearance seconds before laying them on her. Stopping himself, he stepped past her and beckoned for her to follow. “Come on, I need to clean up. Then, I’m going to feed you, and then…” He let the words hang in the air. He held the door open for her, then switched off the lights after she’d passed into the dimming daylight.
    “And then?” Lizzie said, as she followed him toward the farmhouse.
    “And then…I think you know full well what’s going to happen then, E-liz-a-beth.”
     

 
    Chapter Seven
    √ Pick up wine
    √ Call Sybil
     
    Lizzie poured herself a glass of wine while Finn took a shower. He’d gotten her a glass and a corkscrew then hastily retreated upstairs. She could hear the water beating down from the kitchen. Old houses. Her parents’ was the same, you could hear any water running from anywhere else in the house. The sound was comforting in a way.
    The wine tasted good, but she intended on indulging in only one or two glasses. She was determined that this would not be a repeat of her previous bungled sexual encounters. No, she wanted her wits about her. She wanted to know what kind of touches from a man made her body feel good, and more importantly, if she was capable of physical intimacy with a man.
    It had been so long.
    She moved from the kitchen to the living room. She’d only been in the house once, on their first date. The house hadn’t changed much and she found her thoughts drifting back to that long ago night.
    They’d gone to a movie, then planned to go the Commodore for pizza. As the movie ended and the credits were rolling, Lizzie and Finn rose to leave. He stepped back, into the well of his pushed up seat to let her pass, but as she did, he stopped her with his arm. When she turned to face him, she was greeted with a hunger in his eyes that both shook her to her core and ignited something deep inside her burgeoning woman’s body.
    “Elizabeth,” he whispered as he brought his lips to hers. In her young life it was