He glanced up for at least the fiftieth time as Jen, "not Jennifer," bent to get more soapy water on the sponge she was using to wash the old, but still serviceable, family sedan.
Falling for the farmer's daughter
, he thought.
How cliché.
He went back to working on the financial analysis of the farm's books, unable to make sense of them. This was harder than the examples in Ag Econ.
He suspected that the show was for his benefit, at least he hoped so. She was spending a lot more time washing this side of the car, giving him a good view of her body; all that wasn't covered by the very short blue jean cutoffs or the brief halter top. Long legs, toned stomach -- not quite a six pack -- and arms that obviously had some muscle without being bulky. All those years of horseback riding, basketball, and volleyball she'd told him about plainly visible.
Later that morning he was surprised when the family loaded into the car for the weekly trip into town for supplies and Jen wasn't with them. Just the mom, dad, and two younger kids.
As the car disappeared from view, she emerged from the house and walked across to the barn, carrying a book.
Looks like she's headed to the hay loft.
He'd learned that was a favorite reading spot for her, lying on an old blanket on the hay in front of the opening in the loft. She kept the blanket rolled up in a corner of the loft. When she got directly outside his window, she briefly glanced his way with the tiniest bit of a smile.
