Iron Giant by Cassie Mint

Author:Cassie Mint [Mint, Cassie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Cherry Publishing
Published: 2022-04-13T16:00:00+00:00

Seven

Gwen

I take Rhys Evans blackberry picking. I suppose it was inevitable, really—my attempts at flirting are ever so clumsy, so I’ve landed on ‘any excuse to spend time with the man’. And my need to be around him is even worse than before now that I’ve tasted him, now that I’ve licked the sweat from his skin and felt his spend flood my tongue, so when I decide to go picking in the late afternoon, I drag him along with me.

He doesn’t really put up a fight. The blacksmith downs his tools with an audible sigh of relief, and he doesn’t even change before we leave. He simply washes his hands and wipes his face and neck with a cloth.

And god, he must be sweaty under that shirt. That fresh kind of sweat, that smells like man and primal strength. The sweat I tasted.

“I’ve sent off ten job applications. And asked about three rooms.”

“That’s good,” Rhys murmurs, trailing me along the hedgerows. We’re taking a different route than my usual one, climbing the hillside to walk along the ridge of the valley, and it’s hard going, making me puff and pant, but it’s better this way. We’re less likely to bump into anyone, and in the meanwhile I can burn off some of this excess energy.

I shouldn’t have told Rhys ‘no’ when he offered to return the favor earlier. Don’t know what I was thinking. Well I do, I was thinking I wanted it to stand alone, to be my gift to him, but now I’m wound tighter than a bowstring. Every stride sends a pulse between my legs.

“No one has replied yet, but they probably will tomorrow.”

Rhys says nothing.

It’s cool out this afternoon, the wind whipping at the long grass and sending gray clouds skidding across the sky. Gold and red leaves dance on the breeze, proof that the season’s really turning, and my rescued wicker basket swings wildly on my arm.

It’s dented and damaged, but still good to go. A bit like me.

“Gosh, isn’t it nice out?”

The blacksmith’s eyes crinkle as he smiles down at me. It’s still a rare expression on him, and every time I win one of his smiles I feel like running a victory lap, a flag trailing behind me.

“I like it even better with you here.”

His smile fades. Oh.

Is that not a nice thing to say to someone? Am I being weird? Maybe I’m pressuring him. Maybe he doesn’t want me getting any wild ideas.

I mean, it’s not like I’m expecting him to get down on one knee for me or anything, just because I dropped to my knees for him. A man like Rhys, an independent, successful man who’s good at his craft and can make his own way… well, what use would he have for me?

“Cariad?” Rhys frowns down at me, tugging me to a halt. “What’s wrong? You just wilted before my eyes.”

I shrug, casting around us for something to say. We’ve stopped beside an iron age hill fort, a scattering of huge stones submerged in the scrubby grass.

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