Leave Your Hat On

A steamy little tale of forbidden love by Andy N

"You can leave your hat on," she laughed at him in the dusk in the higher level of the barn.

He chuckled, tipping the brim of his hat with a playful grin, his eyes meeting hers. “And what makes you think I want to leave it on anyhow?”

"Yes," she replied, stepping closer. Her fingers brushed against his chest, "I like it on you, you know that.”

"Good to know," he murmured and began slowly moving his hands around her waist. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes.” She looked directly up at him. “You know my husband.”

He didn’t answer. He knew exactly what her husband, Ken, was like – more than she would ever know – and kissed her once softly and then put his finger over his mouth.

She looked at him worried and she began to sweat as they heard the other side of the barn door begin to open and a soft, gentle whistle followed. 

“It’s Old Bill.” She crawled under the hay.

“What the frig is he doing here?” He mouthed almost wordlessly, his hat falling off his head into the hay. “I thought you said he never came in at this time.”

“Perhaps he can’t sleep.” She looked at him with a slight panic. “I don’t know” 

Old Bill had been working at the Ranch for 25 years, since she was a little child. He had helped deliver her while her now late father was over at the Senate. 

“Oh, beat the drums slowly.” They could both hear him begin to sing as he walked up and down the ground floor.

“What are we going to do?” She looked at him panic-laid. 

He kept quiet and watched Old Bill carry on, walking up and down the barn. “Nothing, Melissa,” he said softly after a few seconds. “He’ll be gone in a few moments.”

Melissa started sweating and he kissed her slowly and silently with a gentle force that staggered her a little. She had known he was gentle when he arrived at the Ranch the month before, clearly on from the run from somebody, but not like this. 

Never like this.

She looked at him for a few seconds as Old Bill carried on. She wasn’t even sure if he was Luke like he claimed he was. His accent clearly showed he was from Texas. Not that she cared. She looked at his naked backside. 

“What are we going to do if he comes upstairs?” She looked at him, panic rising in her voice. 

Luke looked around, looking around for his gun belt. He had a few ideas, he paused – none of which she would like – but he stopped. Je liked Old Bill. He liked this Ranch, even her bloody husband.

“Shh!” he told her.

Old Bill stopped for a few seconds, almost like he had heard something, and carried on for a few seconds and stopped again, unholstering his old gun.

Luke swore under his breath. His guns were too far away for him to get without making it aware they were upstairs.

He didn’t doubt he couldn’t kill the old man but looking at Melissa, he knew if he killed the old man he would have to kill her too, and he liked her.

“Is there any other way of climbing out?” He looked at her. 

She shook her head once. 

Luke looked around outside; Meg, Melissa’s pony, was tied up outside. He saw a coin on the floor. It was the change in his pocket from the last time he had been to the Saloon. He looked at Melissa and then threw the coin at the horse.

“It’s too far,” she mouthed.

“Either that or I shoot her.” He was serious. 

His coin brushed through the air and landed on Meg’s mane.

She moaned slightly and Old Bill stopped again, “Meg,” he moaned stopping again. “You’ll be the death of me.” And he moved outside.

Melissa looked at Luke. Both reached for their clothes quickly, while Old Bill spent a few minutes calming her down and mumbled, “Bugger it, I’ll do the rest of the Barn in the morning.”

Luke looked at her and put his clothes back down. 

"Now where did you put that hat again?" she whispered, a smile playing on her lips again. 

He laughed softly, kissing her again. "Only if you promise to keep looking at me like that."

"Deal," she agreed, pulling him closer once more. "Now, where were we?"

https://linktr.ee/andynartist