Ever since he rescued me, I can’t stop thinking about Brandon.
Today when I exit my cottage, sibling brats clinging to my skirts, I see Brandon outside his parent’s house chopping wood.
There is a gaggle of lasses pretending to be doing things. They are not doing anything other than staring at his rippling muscles.
Goddess help me. Now I am also staring at his rippling muscles.
“Jessa! Take this over to Mary,” my mother says, bustling out of our cottage. There is a giant cherry pie in her hands that she baked early this morning.
Mary is Brandon’s mother. Ordinarily, I would not mind popping over to take a pie, for I know Mary has not been so well. But it means walking past Brandon.
“I’m busy, mother,” I say, mind scrambling for a reason why I might be too busy to carry a pie a small distance and coming up short. I am a dutiful child who is always willing and helpful.
My mother does a double-take as she looks past me to where Brandon works up a sweat.
“My,” she says. “What a strapping lad!” Then she winks at me before handing over the cherry pie. “At least you have a good excuse, unlike the shameless hussies gawking.”
Excerpt, Claimed For Their Pleasure © L.V. Lane 2021