5: Eyes Up

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Jennie

Jennie was certain that Lisa was torturing her on purpose.

Why else would Lisa be slowly squatting down with perfect form, her ass jutting out and hugged tightly by her jeans, to lift another hay bale into the truck? Why would she have worn that tank top that put her arm tattoo and flexing biceps on full display and even gave a hint of a tattoo on her back? (And how hadn't Jennie known sooner that she had tattoos?! That was valuable information.) Even Lisa's blonde hair, pulled back into a thick braid and slung over one shoulder, with little wisps escaping more and more throughout the day, was doing things to Jennie that had her zoning out and losing focus more than once. It simply wasn't fair what Lisa was doing.

"Eyes up, champ."

Jennie nearly gasped in surprise at the sound of Irene's voice right beside her ear. Having finished her work in Huntley for the day, Irene had been helping them with the last couple of truckloads of hay at Wendy's farm. Jennie cleared her throat and took one side of the rectangular hay bale into her gloved hands (the gloves that Lisa had bought her earlier that year... Jennie still thought about her every time she put them on).

Irene took the other side of the bale, and on the count of three they moved it across the barn and into the truck. Lisa was already on her way back to the diminishing stack of bales to grab another, on her own. She had been moving bales all day by herself, and frankly, Jennie was impressed.

And more than a little turned on. She didn't know a lot of women with that kind of strength and endurance.

Despite their lugging hay that was heavier than Jennie thought it had any right to be, Irene smirked over at Jennie dangerously. "Do you make it a habit to check out your employer?"

"What?" Jennie stole a glance back to Lisa—just to make sure she hadn't heard, obviously. "I wasn't checking her out," Jennie blubbered so unconvincingly that Irene laughed in her face.

"Oh really?" Irene asked. "Is that why your eyes are bugging out of your head every time Lisa bends over?"

Jennie groaned under the weight of the hay bale, and she adjusted her grip. "Can we...talk about this..." Jennie was breathing heavily now. "When we're not holding the heaviest fucking grass in the world?"

"Suit yourself," Irene said, barely even breathing hard. Jennie hated her for it (even if hate in this case was strangely close to jealousy). "We can always discuss it over our group dinner tomorrow night. I think Lisa would like to hear your thoughts on the matter as well."

They had reached the truck, and Jennie flung her side of the hay bale into the back with more force than she had used all day. Something about embarrassment-induced anger had that effect. She leaned against the back of the truck, catching her breath. "Irene, seriously, what the fuck. Anyone with a pulse would be looking at Lisa right now."

Not being able to control herself, Jennie watched as Lisa picked up another bale. Her arms flexed gloriously, and Jennie let herself stare.

"Guess I must be undead, then" Irene joked, crossing her arms. "I haven't looked at her once, and I'm bi."

"Yeah, because you've been watching me the whole day, you perv," Jennie said with an extra dose of sarcasm, trying to hold onto whatever shred of dignity she had left that day. "But can you keep this to yourself? I'm trying my best."

She took a long swig of water from her bottle. She thought she had never sweated this much in her life, and she had the distinct suspicion that she didn't look half as hot as Lisa did while covered in sweat and bits of hay. After six months on the ranch, physical labor still wasn't her strong suit, even if she had felt a few extra pounds sliding away.

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