Chapter 315 315
Sabine POV
His dark brown eyes darken further, a devious, unmistakably lustful glint flickering through them as he steps closer.
“I thought you might need warming up.”
“That’s what coffee is for.” I lift the mug and take a deliberate sip, then quickly begin stuffing the contents of my backpack back into place. I don’t care how chaotic it looks right now I’ll deal with it later. Hopefully when I actually have time to breathe.
I throw my scarf on, slip the hot water bottle into my coat, and make a very intentional move to shepherd Gilles out of the caravan.
He’s a close friend but I’m not stupid.
Not only is he devastatingly good-looking, he carries a dangerous bad-boy edge that makes him far too tempting for my own good. Being alone with him in a confined space is risky enough without the caravan already fogging up around us. There have already been a few moments that came far too close to crossing lines especially when alcohol was involved.
Men aren’t on my radar right now. And Gilles… Gilles has something about him. Something intense. The way he looks at me like he’s already imagined every possible ending.
“I said I’d happily keep you warm…”
“And I told you none of that. I’m not into men at the moment.” Or boys. Gilles is definitely younger than me I’d bet a week’s wages on it.
Yet somehow, he carries a confidence well beyond his years.
“I don’t believe you,” he says lightly. “I just think you need time to appreciate my charms.”
“Oh, believe me I appreciate them. I just don’t fall for them.”
Gilles is one of my closest friends here on the farm, along with Didier and Caroline. Didier and Caroline arrived only a few weeks before I did. Gilles showed up a week after me.
We do everything together eat together, work together, head into town together on our days off. The only time we’re apart is when we sleep. A fact Gilles never fails to comment on.
He knows better than to tease Caroline. She’s only fourteen, which somehow makes me the default outlet for Gilles’s endless sexual frustration.
I don’t know if it’s because I live alone, but he always makes a point of helping me when I’m rostered to feed the animals. He never offers the same help to anyone else. Didier often takes Caroline’s shifts so she can rest the work is brutal, relentless, and physically exhausting. She does incredibly well just keeping up.
With the farming couple away, the main house is locked up, meaning no access to a kitchen. We’re left using a campfire to heat our meals an infuriatingly slow and tedious process.
When we return to the main camping site after feeding the animals, some of the other workers are already awake, huddled around their own fire. Didier is busy lighting ours.
“I’m just reheating last night’s sausages and baked beans for breakfast,” he says, smiling up at me. “I can grab bread and cheese in town later if you want?”
His smile doesn’t always reach Gilles. There’s something unspoken between them a quiet, simmering male rivalry.
They tolerate each other. Barely. And I have no doubt that if I disappeared tomorrow, they wouldn’t spare each other a second glance.
Didier is maybe eighteen or nineteen, close enough in age to me. We don’t share many personal details. I suspect none of us do. Cash-in-hand farm work with on-site accommodation says enough we’re all hiding from something.
Didier doesn’t back down when Gilles gets wound up. He’s solid, stubborn, and refuses to be intimidated. Their dynamic is a constant power struggle.
“Sounds great,” I say. “I’ll come with you. I need to top my phone up.”
“Why do you even use that thing?” Gilles scoffs, pulling out his sleek, top-of-the-range phone and flashing it at me. “Join us in the modern century. It’s not the Middle Ages.”
“I have my reasons.”
“Alright,” Didier says, finally managing to get the fire going and placing the pot on top. “I’ll grab Caroline and we’ll leave when everyone’s ready.”
“Gilles, are you coming?” I ask, glancing at him. He sometimes has other ideas and someone else is already watching us.
“Of course he is,” Didier mutters.
“Meaning?” Gilles snaps, dropping onto an old log beside me.
“If Bee asked you to jump, you’d ask how high.”
“I’m not whipped. Are you saying I’m whipped?”
“Perhaps.” Didier shrugs, clearly enjoying himself.
“I’d happily be whipped for sex,” Gilles says easily, “but until Sab here gives me the goods, I’ll stick to my usual tactics.”
His gaze slides toward the other workers none of whom speak our language. They must have arrived illegally and found work fast.
Risky for the farming couple. Convenient for me. The moment the authorities catch wind of them, I’ll be grabbing my backpack and moving on.
I roll my eyes as Gilles wanders over to his regular fling his so-called usual tactics. She’s already been watching us. A pretty young woman with deep brown hair and a heavy fringe.
She often shoots me dirty looks, convinced I’m competing for his attention.
I have no idea how he does it, but Gilles speaks their language fluently, making the women giggle and blush with ease. Aside from him, the groups keep to themselves and so do we.
Once Didier returns with Caroline, Gilles rejoins us as I begin plating out the food. We eat together, talking quietly, until Gilles suddenly slips an arm around me, tugging me closer.
Didier notices immediately. His glare sharpens.
“What?” Gilles shrugs. “She’s cold. Always cold. She should be warmer.”
“I’ve just finished defrosting the pig’s water trough,” I snap. “Of course I’m cold.”
I’m irritated by his closeness yet secretly grateful for his warmth. Gilles usually runs cold, which means if he feels warm right now… I must be freezing.
“Shall we meet back here in an hour?” Didier asks, stamping out the fire. He and Caroline are already finished eating.
“Sounds good, I just”
My phone vibrates inside my coat pocket.
I stand quickly, angling my body away from Gilles to keep my screen private.
Meet me at the usual place. 12 noon.
Relief washes through me as I check the time.
“Something’s come up that I need to deal with,” I say. “I’ll have to give it a miss.”