Bared:Dirty Cruisers MC(6)

By: Brook Wilder





“You got everything here, Elle?” Carla asked, not even bothering to look at her as she took off after Hot Wheels. Elle couldn’t even get a word in before she was continuing, “Okay, great.”



And then she was gone, and Elle was left on her own with the greenhouse, and the machine that she didn’t know how to work, and a massive pile of manure.



“Yeah, I don’t really got it, Carla. Thanks for explaining everything so thoroughly,” she muttered under her breath as she rolled up the sleeves of her cardigan. It had been fine in the cool spring morning air, but in the greenhouse, the extra layer made her feel claustrophobic in the humid heat.



Elle stared balefully at the bucket full of foul smelling compost. Carla had made it look easy, and really, how hard could it be? She was just moving it from the big pile to each little hole. It seemed simple enough.



She threw her shoulders back, steeling her resolve once more as she stepped forward. She gave a small prayer of thanks for thinking to wear rubber boots. At least they would be easy to clean. With one hand she reached forward and grabbed the funnel, or wait, was it supposed to be the lever? Maybe both?



Hoping that she was doing it right, she tugged in the bucket full of compost, trying to hold her breath as she did and then yanked on the lever, just like Carla did. Only, at that exact moment, the sound of the greenhouse door opening made her lose her focus and for a split second she stopped paying attention to where the bucket was as the lever depressed all the way, releasing its load full of manure and compost.



It landed with a splat directly over her head. She tried to jump, to leap out of the way of the disgusting mess as it fell, but her boot slipped on the slick surface and she went tumbling straight down, literally falling into a pile of shit.



“No, oh no,” Elle cried softly to herself as she tried to wipe off as much of the awful brown muck as she could, “No, no, no.”



“Oh, yes,” a voice said from behind her. A masculine voice. A horribly familiar voice, “I have to say Elle, you always look beautiful…but I’m not sure if that color really suits you.”



“Honey!” she growled the word, heat firing through her more from embarrassment than anger, but it still made her power to her feet. Or at least try to. She slipped, falling back down again with another horrendous splat.



“Here, let me help you,” he said, laughter thick in his voice as he drew closer.



“No!” she said, pointing at him with a compost smeared finger, “Just stay right where you are.”



“You are being ridiculous,” he muttered, his own voice growing angry as he reached out, grabbing her hand and yanked.



“I said no. I don’t need your help.”



“Yes, you do!” He growled back, heaving her a few slippery inches off the pile.



“Honey, stop! Let me go this instant.”



“Fine!” With a sudden jolt as he released her hand she went sliding back into the muck, cringing as it squelched beneath her dress. It was official. She was burning the thing when she got home.



Mortification burned through her once more, spurred on by the laughter shining in Honey’s melting brown eyes.



“What are you even doing here?” she spit the words out at him as she finally managed to pull herself up to her knees, refusing to take the hand he’d held out for her. With an irritated sigh, he dropped it, with what sounded suspiciously like a muttered stubborn woman but the words were spoken too softly for her to make out.



“What was that?” she asked crossly, embarrassed beyond belief and angry at…well, she wasn’t even sure why she was angry but she knew it had to do with Honey. It always had to do with Honey. Ridiculous man.



“I’m here helping out a friend,” his look swept over her, “Doing actual work. Being actually helpful.”



“I was work–I don’t have to justify myself to you. In fact, I don’t have to be here at all.” Elle said, biting off the words as she turned her back on Honey, not seeing the look of instant remorse that flashed over his handsome features as she stormed from the greenhouse in the direction of the office.





Chapter 2


Elle crashed through the door to the office, jolting to a halt. Carla was towards the back, talking tensely to someone over the phone and hadn’t noticed Elle’s sudden, and odiferous, arrival. She took another step forward, opening her mouth to let out all the anger and humiliation that Honey had drawn up in her out in the form of an early resignation but then Carla’s loudly spoken words stopped her.



“…What do you mean you can’t do it?” her friend sounded pissed off, but under that was a note of worry that made Elle want to reach out. That was, until she realized that she still smelled like a pile of manure. Carla probably wouldn’t appreciate the gesture that much just then.

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