Chase the Storm Read Online Free

of paying for a hotel and eating out, I was surely going to run out of money and wouldn’t have enough to pay for the truck, much less have a way to get back to Boston. My attention was drawn back to the bulletinboard.
    “Do you know that place?” I asked, pointing to the paper at the bottom. It was stupid and foolish, and I would be better offfinding a hotel somewhere, but I needed money. I’d never worked on a farm before. Hell, I’d never even touched a cow, but taking chances was part of the new me.
“McKenzie’s? Sure do. Nice guy, quiet, sticks to himself. Comes into townonce a monthfor his mail.”
    “Theydon’t deliver it?”
“Nah, he’s too far out.”
McKenzie must have beenevenmore inthe middle ofnowhere.
“It says he needs help.” I hedged, hoping to get information without prying.
    “Yeah, he’s got several hundred acres. Wheat and hay mostly, but he’s got some horses he trains and sells. Been trying to keep his head above water since… Well, for a while now.”
“Honestly, I don’t know shit about farming, but I could use the moneyand a place to stayfor a few weeks. Has he found anyone?” “Nope. Everyone around here already has work to do. Want me to bringyouout there?”he offered.
     
“Ifit’s not too muchtrouble.”I accepted quickly.
     
“Sure thing. Was just about to head home anyway. Give me a few minutes to close up.”
    About twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the passenger seat of a Chevy pickup truck that was only slightly newer than my Ford, bouncing around as Mike sped along a thin, dirt road. In hopes things would work out, I had my duffle bag sitting on the floor between my feet. I thought the town had seemed small, but once we left the town’s center, there was literally nothing but fields and fences. Just when I was starting to be coaxed to sleep by the amber pastures, Mike turned onto an even narrower dirt road, hittinga pothole.
“I think youleft the engine back there,”I joked as I held the door for stability.
     
Mike laughed. “That was nothing. You should see them down my way.”
     
“I can’t believe someone actuallylives out here.”
     
“Yeah, well, I told ya, he leads a solitary lifestyle,” he said with a smirk.
    On the horizon, I could barely make out a large red building with a smaller twin next to it. To its right, separated by a two-car garage and set back farther, was a modest two-story, white house. A large fenced pasture ran parallel to the barn while a white fenced ring resided at the end of it. As we neared, I saw a truck parked beside the house and a tractor infront ofthe barn. Attached to the back ofit was a trailer stacked withbales ofhay.
“There he is,” Mike said as we neared, lifting his finger from the steeringwheelto point to where the tractor and trailer were.
    For the second time since leaving Boston, my heart raced, and it had nothing to do with running away fromresponsibilities and everything to do with the specimen of a man in front of us. Taller than me by at least a few inches, he had dirty blond hair that hung around his face in damp clumps. My eyes tracked down his body, pausing at his shirtless, tanned, welldefined torso. A long neck led to wide shoulders, a firm chest and muscular back, all glistening with a mixture of perspiration and dirt. Old, worn Levi’s sat low on his hips, but snuggly curved around his ass. I roamed down his long legs to the brown cowboy boots peeking out from the cuffs of his jeans. Apparently not realizing he had company, he reached down with his leather-gloved hands, gripping the twine of a bale, and then, bracing it against his thigh, turned, and threw it onto a conveyor belt that slowly carried it into a hayloft. The muscles in his back undulated under his smoothskin, ripplingwitheachslight movement.
It was the sexiest thingI’d ever seen.
     
Much sexier than the guys at the club I’d gone to, or that I had seen onthe campus inBoston. This guywas allman.
    Mike stopped the truck,