Perfect (Love in Yorkshire #1)

Two

We sat in silence as Connor roughly changed gears. I felt very aware of his thighs so close to my own. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his gnarled knuckles were white.

My jaw ached from how tightly my teeth were clenched. I felt so small next to that large frame. My stepbrother sucked all the air out of the car, so much so that I wanted to roll down the window and stick my head out.

My plan of not speaking until spoken to soon failed. I hated uncomfortable silences.

“So where is Dad? Is he OK?” I asked eventually, wanting to ease some of the tension.

He flicked me a moody glare.

“Do you have no concern for your safety? Put your fucking seatbelt on,” he growled. “Or does your driver usually do that for you?”

I tutted, “I don’t have a driver and you didn’t answer my question.”

His lip curled into a sneer, “Belt now ,” he repeated gruffly. The commanding tone sent an unwanted thrill through me. Bossy much?

I clipped my seatbelt on as we pulled out into traffic and waited patiently.

An icy silence stretched.

“Well?” I huffed. Wondering if he was being evasive on purpose. Was my father ill?

“Why the sudden concern?”

Connor appeared to be one of those people who answered a question with a question. Another mark against him, “I’m sorry?”

He shot me another sideways glance before refocusing on the road. “You should be. You haven’t given a shit for the last year.”

My jaw dropped at his rudeness. My God, he was spoiling for a fight. The guy clearly got off on confrontations.

Fury jetted into my system, to the point where it was almost painful; he had crossed the line and I wanted to scream at him.

“I don’t think my relationship with my father has anything to do with you,” I bit out, my voice wobbling slightly. He must have heard the tremor as he shifted awkwardly in his seat and jammed the vehicle into a higher gear.

“If you say so,” he muttered, suddenly passive-aggressive. My stepbrother’s changeable behaviour was giving me whiplash but his scent still wrapped around my senses.

A cocktail of emotions swirled inside me, so I glanced through the side window at the passing countryside, wondering whether to challenge him.

I decided to bite the bullet. It was now or never. I was unsure about the adult way of going about it, but the air needed clearing. We were destined to have it out, whatever it was, of course.

“Have I done something to offend you?”

"Nope," came his quick-fire response.

“So, if I haven't done anything to upset you, why are you so mean to me?” I could almost feel the grooves my frown was making on my forehead.

His dark eyes moved to mine fleetingly. “I’m not being mean to you; this is me; this is who I am—with people of a certain type, that is.”

He then smiled, not the type of smile that could go onto a dental poster or anything, more of a slight twitch of his mouth, but it was there.

My eyebrows shot sky-high as I gave his side profile a withering look.

“You have met me—like— once , and you think you know my type ?”

I snorted in disbelief. It certainly wasn’t a ladylike sound, but I was past caring.

Connor’s face continued to wear that weird smile.

“I, ‘like’ saw you coming, princess. And please don’t take that as a compliment.”

My eyes flickered with annoyance as he mimicked my ‘like’, but I ignored it.

“I wouldn’t dream of taking anything you said as a compliment, and what the hell does that mean? You’re going to have to help me out because I don’t think we speak the same language. You have totally lost me.”

He hadn’t of course. Connor Barratt had made up his mind about me and whatever label he’d decided on, it wasn’t nice. No doubt it had something to do with the radio silence between my dad and me over the last few months, but it took two people to communicate and my father hadn’t exactly been that forthcoming either .

There was a beat of silence and I pulled out my iPhone as a distraction.

“I wasn’t speaking in fucking riddles. My point was that it’s amazing how quickly the tide turns when you want something.”

At first, I hadn’t a clue as to what he was referring to but then I thought about the iPhone in my hand. Daddy did order it to be sent by special delivery when I dropped my old one down the toilet. A twinge of guilt seeped into my conscience. I had fibbed to my father by saying I didn’t have enough of my allowance money left to replace it. But surely this boy wouldn’t know about that?

Sighing, I quickly re-pocketed the offending item with shaky hands.

“And what is it that I want Connor, since you know me so well; apparently.”

Connor continued his line of attack. “Unlimited access to daddy’s credit card I imagine.”

I swallowed, suddenly struggling to find my voice. The way he said ‘daddy’ was annoying. I never called my dad that now, not out loud anyway. Not after my friends at school had started to wind me up about it. Saying how it made me sound like a brat. Something I most certainly wasn’t.

Remaining silent, I stuck my chin in the air. Where did he get the nerve to speak to me like that? Connor Barratt was blatantly a judgemental rat and had already made up his mind about me.

“I don’t need money for this trip, so why would I need his credit card? I am here purely to spend time with my father and relax. End of. How would I go shopping when there aren’t any shops?”

Connor snorted, “It’s the North, not fucking space. We still have shops and shit.”

I snickered, “Not the type I like to shop at.” What the hell was I saying? Pretty much everything to reinforce his entitled little princess opinion of me it appeared. I so wasn’t myself. It’s like his comments were pushing me into playing that role.

“A rough farm boy like me could only imagine. And if you think you’re just going to sit on your arse all day, you can think again. Relax my arse. There are no free rides in farming. It’s not a place for useless people.”

His comment needled me. He spoke to me as if I was a fat lazy lump.

I exhaled sharply. “How can you say that? We’ve just established that you don’t know me,” I pointed out tightly.

“We’ve established fuck all,” he shouted, making me wince .

I exhaled noisily, feeling thoroughly offended, “I’m a hard worker actually.”

Connor pursed his lips and relaxed his death grip on the steering wheel. His long fingers caused my tummy to do that flip-flop thing again. My eyes took note of the scars there. Did all farmers have marks like that on their hands?

A car suddenly overtook us aggressively and Connor cursed sharply, swerving the wheel, and flipping the driver off in the other car. I sank lower into my seat. This was probably the worst car journey I had ever experienced.

Connor shook his head and for a second, I thought he would apologise for his reaction to the other driver, but he just cleared his throat and said, “What did you say?”

The boy needed his ears cleaned, I repeated with a tacked-on sentence I hadn’t said earlier, “I’m a hard worker. And I don’t need a free ride.”

“Oh, I know you’re hard work, flower,” he assured me confidently, twisting my words. He was such a smug bastard and so arrogant. I longed to wipe that sexy sneer off his face. And calling me a flower? I felt more like a wilting weed.

Why the hell was I attracted to him when he was being such a dick? I twisted my fingers together in my lap to stop myself from strangling him. I shouldn’t give two shits really but my mouth just kept on moving.

“Don’t you think you’re being a tad judgemental? You should shine the light in your own corner when you’re talking about free rides. Isn’t it my father’s money that bought the farm and the house you and your mother are living in? It appears I’m not the only one that’s sponging,” I bated nastily and instantly regretted it. Dad told me that Rachel had been forced to leave her husband with nothing and that he wasn’t a nice man.

Connor didn’t appreciate my comeback and his reply cut into me. With a roll of his eyes, he muttered a curse before blasting.

“You’re such a delusional child. I work twelve to fourteen-hour days at the farm. I pay my way; always have done. We weren’t all born into the perfect privileged lif e and anyway, that’s a completely different fucking conversation,” he practically snarled.

Boy, he liked the word fuck.

“You’re so hateful. It’s a good thing you’re driving otherwise I’d slap you,” I threatened, my tone severely lacking any real strength. I’d never hit anyone in my entire life, but then again, I’d never met someone who had managed to generate this level of frustration within me.

“You could try,” he chuckled, flicking me a pitying look.

“Stop being a bastard to me?” I yelled.

The car swerved slightly as intense hostility poured into the cab. Connor’s hands tightened further on the steering wheel.

“I suggest you refrain from the name-calling. You certainly wouldn’t like some of the ones I have for you,” he practically snarled. I’d upset him but it didn’t make me feel better, if anything warning bells started to sound in my head. Had I gone too far?

Shuffling back into my seat, I pointed out in a quiet voice. “Well, you are. You’ve been nothing but a brute to me from day one.”

Connor exhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring.

“You haven’t seen anything yet sunshine. I suggest you stop baiting me before I stop the car and show you just how much of a brute I can be.”

I felt a flare of heat thrum through my sex and pushed my legs closer together. The thought of Connor putting his hands on me, even in anger appeared to be turning me on. I was losing it, I had to be.

“You don’t scare me,” I croaked.

There was a three-beat silence.

“Such big words. How brave you are considering you’re probably the same weight as one of my legs.”

Reluctantly, my eyes skimmed over his powerful thighs and briefly took in the bulge in his jeans between his legs. OMG, was he hard or just naturally stacked? I almost swallowed my tongue at the seedy direction of my thoughts.

I clamped my lips together before I gave in to the instinct to push him further. I appeared to have opened up a wound with my bastard comment. A thick tense silence now sat between us and I bit my lip, warding off the ‘you started it’ comment that was dying to push itself out there.

I concentrated on my phone again, I needed to do something with my hands. I was breathtakingly aware of that muscled frame so close to my own. He really was a walking-talking temptation; although maybe strike the talking bit .

Connor continued to focus forward, watching the road before saying, “New phone. Latest model?”

“So?” I admitted bravely.

He really was a sod; the guy missed nothing . Yes , it was the latest model and the most expensive, but I needed the one that would be the most reliable. That is what I had told myself at the time anyway. Plus, it was me, all my friends expected me to have the best of everything.

I decided to leave it there about the phone comment, he had pigeonholed me as a spoilt bitch. Something I didn’t see myself as, well certainly not the bitch part. I had a monthly allowance from my father and usually budgeted well but I’d found myself short lately and had to ask for more. And yes, I usually got what I wanted but he was my father . That’s what they do!

Connor of course wouldn’t understand due to his father being fricking AWOL. Dad said Rachel’s ex-husband wasn’t allowed near her anymore. Why should I be blamed for my father wanting to stick around and look after me? Connor was probably just jealous.

Ignoring him, I checked for messages. I had several more texts from Lisa and one from Dad which I must have missed earlier, apologising, and explaining that he would have to send Connor to get me. I felt annoyed that I’d missed that message as I could have at least prepared myself for seeing the moody git again, even if only slightly. I also had a text from my ‘sort of’ ex Andrew, but I thumbed delete without reading it. I couldn’t be dealing with any more shit than what was right in front of me or I’d explode; one thing at a time.

“So where is Rachel?” I questioned, lowering my phone.

Connor shot me a sideways glance. “My mother’s in Edinburgh with my Gran, she’s sick.”

I swallowed. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

There was a moment’s pause before he spoke again.

“ She should have been the one here to get you. But as usual, I’m left with the shit jobs,” he announced with an exasperated sigh.

I ignored him and turned to look out of the window, hating the fact that picking me up was deemed to be one of the ‘shit’ jobs. FFS!

The sound of the engine growled into the Ranger, mirroring my feelings .

“So how was your journey? First class by any chance?” Connor needled, cutting back into my thoughts. His attempt at small talk almost knocked me off my guard, even though I knew he was still being a shit to me.

“No, I sat with the other peasants,” I began sarcastically, “And you actually care enough to ask me?” I put in, feeling out of my element. I wasn’t usually so quick to temper.

“Nope, just making conversation,” he returned in a bored tone which made me want to thump him.

Instead, I released a puff of air, feeling thoroughly exasperated. I hadn’t expected us to get along, step-siblings sired by the ‘other woman’ rarely did, but I had just arrived and here we were at daggers drawn. It was going to be a bloody long summer.

I thought back to his ‘just making conversation’ comment before muttering. “Well, it could use some work,” I wasn’t really bothered how he took that.

He exhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring as he forcefully overtook the car in front of us. “What the actual fuck? Stop mumbling, if you have something to say, bloody well say it ,” he snapped back.

I lurched in my seat and flicked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear, a rush of adrenalin egging me on.

“I said your ability to converse could use some work. As quite frankly—you suck at it,” I delivered tartly. I was starting to get irritated at having to repeat myself. He had clearly decided to pick and choose what he heard, a typical boy thing.

Connor cleared his throat noisily and roughly changed gear, the car revving with an insistent snarl, reflecting the mood in the vehicle.

“Do you even have a license?” I stated under my breath, checking the speedo, noting he was pushing sixty when we were only on a narrow, single-track country lane. My fingers were now clawing the seat for stability.

He ignored me and I stared moodily at his profile, wondering whether to repeat the question but knew that he’d probably just speed up or wobble the steering wheel like a proper dick. At least he kept his eyes on the road.

There was another moment of silence before he answered.

“My ability to converse is just fine,” he drawled, defending himself against my earlier jibe. He suddenly sounded wounded, which I thought was odd. Had I successfully landed a blow? I sure hoped so but doubted it. The dickhead was like a rock.

I cocked an eyebrow and tried to match his careless attitude. “Really? Well, where I come from, people usually say hello and greet new members of the family in a friendly way. Not be an obnoxious twat to them,” I sniped briskly, amazed at my daring. I rarely used mean language, but the guy brought out the nasty in me.

His lip curled, resentment radiating from him in waves, and he shook his head.

“I must say, after everything I’ve heard about you, Mike left out the part about you being a bitch.” His insult still didn’t melt the hormones raging in my gut.

I was baffled by my reaction because the nastier he was with me, the more I should be able to fight the attraction. So why was my body doing the opposite? Treat them mean to keep them keen came back to bite me on my arse. Great.

My palms prickled like I’d grabbed a nettle, and I moodily shoved my phone back into my pocket.

How dare he call me a bitch when he was being such a mean bastard! Steam must surely be coming out of my ears by now.

I opened my mouth to give him hell but failed miserably.

“I’m not a bitch at all. I was merely reacting to your boorish behaviour,” I replied in my best haughty voice.

He sniggered at that one and shot me a knowing smile. “Boorish? Where are we, the 50s?” His eyes now sparkled. I appeared to be amusing him now. I felt dizzy, the guy was certifiably schizo.

Connor pulled over at a passing point to allow a car through which amazed me. His recent behaviour had not suggested he’d be a courteous driver.

“You just don’t like that I’m not affected by that perfect face and tight little body. I imagine you have all the boys behaving like complete dicks over you.”

I felt semi-elated at the backhanded compliment and reined in my response, as he was right. I’d never been treated like this by a boy. It was unique, and not in a good way. I cursed the fact that I’d dressed down in a pink tee and skinny jeans and of course the no make-up face. I felt like a soldier without his armour.

I turned away to stare out of the window again. He’d hit the nail on the head and it niggled, oh how it niggled! He was the devil but a clever one at that.

My eye started to do its twitchy thing, a tic my GP had related to stress .

I blew out my reply on an exhale. “It’s not my fault that all guys act like sex-mad maniacs around me.” I was past caring how conceited I sounded.

Connor didn’t reply at first, he was too busy concentrating on passing a row of parked cars as we drove through a Beatrix Potter-type of village.

“High school boys maybe. Don’t tar us all with the same brush. Now, who’s being judgemental, Harlow ?” He quirked a brow; dammit, even his eyebrows were sexy.

My stomach muscles bunched as he said my name for what must have been the first time. I pushed my thighs closer together, attempting to ward off that heat I suddenly felt again (down there).

I inhaled, giving myself a moment to recover before I replied. This had to be the most fired-up situation I had ever been in. Goosebumps prickled my skin.

He beat me to a response, stating.

“Bet you enjoy it too, lording your virginity over the male of the species, like a proper tease.” His teeth flashed in a gleam of white. Thoroughly pleased with his own judgement. His words were like poisoned darts and I decided against challenging him. I knew that whatever come-back I went with he would top it.

I wondered if Connor was a virgin before my mind sprung back to what had looked like a half-empty box of condoms in the glove compartment. Of course not. Silly me.

We drove in silence with the radio on low in the background, and I wondered what he would do if I turned the volume up to drown out the nothingness.

We sat there in the semi-quiet through most of an Ed Sheeran song, and I wondered how long to veto conversation until it started to get to me. As a Foo Fighters track started, I was riddled with the urge to speak.

“How far is the farm?” I questioned, believing he couldn’t throw that comment back in my face.

I was wrong.

“Not far. You won’t have to suffer my obnoxious presence for much longer,” Connor said with a jeer. Repeating my barb from earlier. So, I did hit a nerve; one point to me!

It appeared the guy could twist anything, his expression changed faster than the weather .

I ignored his tone and questioned. “So, do you work on the farm?” It was more of a rhetorical question, as I already knew the answer from my father’s lengthy emails bigging Connor up.

“I do,” he replied bluntly.

I moodily folded my arms to stop myself from jabbing him in the leg. It was a solid, mouth-watering leg. I couldn’t imagine I would do much damage to it anyway, my fist would probably ricochet off, and I’d hit myself.

“You know you could meet me halfway instead of the one-word answers,” I puffed, feeling worn out as the journey had started to take its toll. I felt a trickle of sweat run down my back, so I cracked the window open.

“What do you want to know?” he replied, his voice dripping with feigned innocence. I played it safe, not wanting to be lured into a false sense of security.

“What type of work do you do there?” I questioned, keeping my tone even. I didn’t want to appear too interested.

As usual, he shot me down and gave me a bland look before steering the car through a pair of tired-looking gates.

“It’s a farm. What do you think I do? I work—hard. Not that you’d know what that feels like.”

I smirked at that one. So that’s how it felt. Part of me wanted to check the mirror to see how my face looked. I never smirked.

“You’re a farmer, so what? The work can’t be that hard. It’s not like you’re saving lives or anything.” I knew what I was saying was a pile of bollocks, the words even felt wrong in my mouth, but I couldn’t help myself.

He suddenly looked massive in his seat.

“Spoken like a true ignorant city girl that has no idea about the importance of agriculture.”

His city girl comment made me want to yank a clump of his hair in frustration.

“I’m not ignorant at all. I’ve done some research about farming and Yorkshire and I did well in Geography. I’m not stupid.”

He quirked an eyebrow and responded in an amused tone.

“Well fuck me genius, maybe you do have more going for you than just your looks,” he sneered. He was such a git. I suddenly felt a grudge the size of Yorkshire developing inside me .

A sigh of frustration whistled between my teeth.

“You know, you’re becoming quite predictable now. It’s boring. You don’t like me. I get it, and that’s fine,” I stated. “I suggest we stay out of each other’s way while I’m here. OK?”

His following words were not welcomed. I hadn’t come expecting to work, my trip was my holiday.

“Not OK, since we’re living in the same house. We’ll also probably have to work together at some point. As I said, you don’t get to sit on your cute arse all summer. As pathetic as it is, you’ll pull your underwhelming weight, Harlow .”

And now he was calling me skinny. I wondered what he’d do if I threw up all over him. The thought of being forced to carry out manual labour duties in front of this guy made me feel sick.

“Sounds like heaven,” I murmured, pausing to shoot him a moody glare. “I said I know some stuff, but I’m not an experienced farmhand by a long shot,” I returned drily. What I knew about farming and working outdoors could be written on a napkin.

He sent another wink my way. “Don’t worry baby, I can teach you a thing or two. I’ll show you what real work looks like and I’m a great teacher.”

“I can’t wait,” I shot back in a tone which dripped with sarcasm.

As the vehicle started to slow down, Connor shot me a brief look up and down my body. “I think it will be quite entertaining, watching you all hot and sweaty. Dragged out of your picture-perfect comfort zone. And I, sweet little stepsister, am the perfect man to do that,” Connor drawled with assured confidence.

I gritted my teeth and did not say another word. The way he said hot and sweaty, made me think of entwined naked limbs rather than farm work.

I also hated how he said baby like I was anything but, and I despised my body's response to his gruff voice.

My legs felt weak. Thank God I was sitting down.

My eyes stared through the window, as realisation hit me like a sledgehammer.

I was here all summer with my dad, the woman who stole him from my mum, and a guy I fancied, who hated my guts. Great. It was going to be a blast.