A/N: I'm so sorry everyone! I know I've disappeared for awhile, this summer has been hectic. I'm starting college in a few days so I've been super busy. I'm not sure when I'll be able to update it. I know it won't be too often, I'm so sorry. Just bear with me, I'm going to finish this story, I promise. I hope you like what I have. I might be posting two this evening. Let me know what you think!

Every time I get a new favorite or a new follow or a review it motivates me to take a few minutes and work on a chapter. So thank you all for getting me through this, it helps me so much.

I rolled my shoulders, and cracked my back, wiping my brow in the process. It was getting very hot. Spring was coming to an end quickly, and summer was definitely making its presence known.

I shed my over-shirt and tied it around my waist. If I was this hot out here, I couldn't imagine what the inside would be like. Those poor chickens. Maybe I should install a fan or something.

I entered and my suspicions were confirmed. It was hot as hell in there, and the chickens were all pressed against opposite walls, craving the outdoors. I scattered feed, and they all pulled themselves away from what little coolness they could gather to eat. I decided to take them outside and put them in the fence, not caring if they'd peck at Mark's grass seeds. He could plant more. I was worried.

I began taking chickens two at a time until they were all outside and content. After I pulled my shirt away from sweat-soaked back it clung back immediately, making the action seem counterproductive. I trudged through the heat to the barn and paused outside the door. I knew I was about to be smothered with heat and stench.

I pushed the door open and my hand flew to my lips, but not because of the smell or the heat. It was because of the cowboy that was dumping fodder into the feed bins. His usual button down and vest were thrown on the ground near the door, and I was very surprised to see his hat there, too. This brought me back to him and the way his beautiful silver hair was sticking to his jaw with sweat. His face was very concentrated on the task, and he barely paused to wipe sweat from his forehead.

I untied my over shirt from my waist, not wanting to stretch the sleeves, and tossed it on the ground before slowly walking towards him.

I was unused to seeing him so exposed; it seemed almost symbolic in a way. All he had on was a thin black tank top that was soaked through with sweat. I could see his sinewy muscles working beneath his smooth ivory skin that was shiny with sweat.

At least the heat was giving me one thing: an excuse as to why my face was suddenly so red.

I was surprised to see a tattoo on his bicep as I got closer. It was on his bicep, a heart with a name in it. "Marie" I think it was, but he was moving his arms too much to really see what it said. Which brought me back to the reality of the situation: he was doing my job.

"Little cliché, huh cowboy?" I said approaching him.

He jumped a little and spun to face me, dropping the fodder in the process. Some clung to his shirt. "Huh?" For once there was no hostility, no walls up; he was genuinely surprised. Of course that moment passed quickly.

"Your tattoo." I clarified, untying my ponytail and rolling it up in a knot on the top of my head.

He quickly glanced at his arm, then back to me. "Oh." He mumbled, hardly any emotion crossing his features.

"So who's the lucky girl?" I tried to sound teasing, rather than disappointed.

His eyes narrowed the slightest bit, "My mom." He hissed.

"Oh." I said quietly, snapping my mouth shut. Clearly his mother was a touchy subject and I wasn't one to push people into telling me about their past, because I hated it myself.

He turned back to his work and continued doing it. I grabbed some fodder and began feeding it to a cow by hand.

The added embarrassment of my faux pas, plus my bashfulness at his appearance, and of course the ridiculous heat made me a sweaty mess, so the moment the cow was finished eating, I pulled my t-shirt off, balled it up and threw it towards my over shirt. The tank top felt loads better, but I could feel the heat seeping into my bare shoulders now, too.

"It's a nice tattoo." I mumbled, turning back to the cow. It probably was nice at one point, but it was fading badly now.

He snapped his head to me, seeming frustrated. "No, it's not. It's a piece of shit."

"I can fix it." I glanced over at him, biting my lip.

He raised an eyebrow. "No," he snapped.

I sighed, expecting him to say that. "Why not?" I asked anyways. I was getting frustrated now, just like he was. Damn, he was affecting me again.

"Just no." He sighed, moving the fodder to the other side of the barn and beginning on those animals. I followed.

Didn't he think I was good enough? Of course he did, he'd seen my tattoos before. He's even complimented them. What was his deal? "You said yourself that it looks like shit, but you won't let a willing tattoo artist fix it for free?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Pretty much." He continued hoisting bags of feed up and dumping them.

"That's fucked." I scoffed.

"I am."

I sighed frustrated. "Why won't you let me? What's the real reason? Are you afraid of a little pain?" I came across as sarcastic as usual. I was tempted to pinch him when I said pain, but I had to restrain myself, remembering that he was not Julius. There were boundaries with Vaughn; none with Julius.

"It's not the pain!" He growled, setting the fodder down and turning to me. He leaned heavily on the gate.

"Then why?" I knew I was annoying him, truth be told I kind of enjoyed his reactions.

He covered his face with his hand to keep from exploding, but he failed. "Because, Chelsea!" He yelled, "I don't want you fucking it up! I got it for my mom!"

I recoiled momentarily, but narrowed my eyes after a moment. "You think I'd fuck it up?" I crossed my arms, disbelief clear on my face.

"I don't know. I've never seen you tattoo before. You could be lying about all of this! I don't know!" He was angry and exasperated.

"Ask your cousin. She's seen me do one." I said matter-of-factly.

He furrowed his eyebrows. "What?" His voice was its normal volume again.

"Well, she left room. She's squeamish. But she was there for a little bit, and she saw the end result." I said. His eyes rolled slightly when I said she was squeamish. I almost wanted to crack a smile at that, but I remembered I was mad at him.

"Who did you tattoo?" He tried to sneer at me.

"Lanna."

"Oh." He glared for a moment, then kept working.

I sighed, I was determined to get an answer from this man no matter what it takes. "What's the problem? For real." It came out a little more harshly than I would have liked.

"Jesus!" He shouted, raising his hands above his head and tensing his shoulders. "I won't let anyone touch it. It's not just you. Let it go."

I rolled my eyes. I made him really angry, but he made me really angry, too. I sighed though, knowing I should stop. "Why are you even here?" I asked instead, snapping a bit.

He threw down the fodder he was holding and turned to me again.

"I know your brother wouldn't help you and I know how hot these barns can get. I also know you'd kill yourself out in this heat trying to help these animals." He smiled a little at the end. He kept his voice even, although I was clearly irritating him.

I flinched a little bit at his words, but realization sunk in. He was just helping me out. He was being a friend.

"I can handle it." I muttered.

"I also knew you'd say that." He smirked.

I glared at him.

"Look, do you want my help or not?" He grumbled, smile disappearing.

I stared at him. "If you let me tattoo you."

"Oh my Goddess!" He threw his hands up. "You're fucking something, aren't you?"

"Let me." I demanded, ignoring his statement.

He sighed dramatically, and leaned his head back. "Fuck. Fine." He muttered. "Now grab a fucking bag of goddamn fodder."

A/N: Let me know what you think, thanks!