Then I'll get started on moving operations to Landsburg.
I want to make sure I have all my ducks in a row before I go back to see Molly to pick up the materials we need for Spence's van build.
"You're in a good mood," my brother says when I walk through the door whistling.
"Sure am," I confirm as I drop my keys on the counter and check the fridge.
Spencer's standing by the sliding glass door that opens to the back yard. Smells like he's got charcoal going.
"You grillin' tonight?" I ask, hoping the answer is yes and hoping that he's also grilling for both of us.
My baby brother is a magician with a steak and an open fire.
"Yeah man, I found some salmon fillets at the market that needed to be in my belly."
"Salmon?"
My heart was hoping for steak but I guess I did just have a burger a few hours ago.
"You want some or not?" Spence asks, stepping through the open door and opening the ice chest that's sitting on the patio just outside.
"Of course I want some," I laugh, "and one of those too, while you're at it."
Spence shakes his head like I'm being a pain in his ass, but he holds up one of the bottles of local microbrew in one hand for me anyway.
"So you gonna tell me why you won't stop whistling and why you've got that stupid grin on your face?"
Busted.
There's no way I can hide the good mood and I might as well fill my brother in on the details. Even though he's going to give me shit for it forever.
"Met a girl." I know I'm grinning like an idiot as I lean against the kitchen sink and lift my beer to my mouth.
Spence gives me a suspicious look and nods sagely, "Must have been one hell of a girl."
"She is, man," I know this is about to get way too serious for my baby brother, but he's gonna have to get used to it, "she's not a girl, Spence. She's the girl."
Spencer stares at me for a full thirty seconds or so without blinking.
"Wait, I'm sorry." He shakes his head and sticks a finger in one ear like he's trying to clear it out, "I could have sworn I just heard you utter the words 'the girl.' "
He looks at the label on the beer in his hand and squints at the fine print on the side, "This shit must be stronger than I thought, cuz this is my first one and I'm already hearing wrong."
Spence opens the fridge and pulls out a dish that has a couple of really nice looking pieces of salmon that have already been coated in whatever he's cooking them in.
"What?" I ask, "You get a job at some fancy restaurant and you start experimenting?
"What's that stuff?" I ask, pointing at the sprigs of weeds he's got all over the tops of the fillets.
"Dill, dude," he answers defensively, like he knew I was going to ask.
"Dill?"
"Yeah man, it's dill weed, and some balsamic blood orange reduction something glaze."
Definitely under the influence of his old college buds and their experimental recipes.
I take another slow swig from my beer and glare at the fish he's carefully transferring to a wooden board that he had soaking in the sink.
I thought it was a cutting board that needed to be washed.
"Gil gave me the glaze and told me to give it a try," he tells me even though I haven't said anything else, "I know it's weird, but he's like a fucking food Jedi master so if he says it's good, I gotta try it."
OK. Can't argue with my brother on that count. Gilbert is a recipe ninja, and his brother, Dan is a genius at business and marketing.
That's the only reason that a crazy, upscale breakfast and lunch joint with a goofy name like "Lakeside Laundry and Boat Dock" is doing banger business in a place as unpretentious as Landsburg.
Hell, the town doesn't even have a lake.
Which was a pretty big disappointment to discover after my baby brother told me he'd landed a job at the Boat Dock.
"Grab that, bro," Spence points with his elbow at a container with sliced vegetables soaking in some sort of marinade, "and come out here and tell me about the girl you met."
So with vegetables in one hand and beer in the other, I follow him out to the patio.
"She's special," I tell him while I watch him put the grilling plank on the side of the grill that doesn't have briquettes under it. "It's like, as soon as I saw her something just clicked in my brain and I'm tellin' you, I just know."
Oddly, baby bro isn't giving me near as much shit as I'd expected.
He stands a few feet away, drinking his beer and looking at me thoughtfully while the fish smokes under the hood.
Finally he just shrugs it off and gets back to his cooking, "Cool man. They say when you know, you know. So how is it you're back here making me cook you dinner instead of back at her place so you can cook her breakfast in the morning?"
"Well, that's a whole thing," I say with a deep sigh, "her and her friends are kinda doing this born again virgin thing so--"
"Born again what now?"
"She says it's the 'do-over pact' and they all agreed no more casual sex."
"Huh," Spence is laying marinated vegetables on the grill and I can't tell if he's concentrating on that or what I just told him.
"So now what?" he finally asks.
"Now nothing," I say, "It's not about just getting my dick wet, or having a summer fling with a local girl. Moll's it for me. If she wants to wait till she's sure, that's cool by me. Cuz I'm the guy she's waiting for."
Molly
Three days.
I haven't seen him in three days.
After getting used to Reagan dropping by just to drop off a coffee or go grab lunch together or even just to stand at the counter and make me laugh while I try to get some work done for over a week, he just stopped coming in three days ago.
He still answers if I text him but it's always something short and distracted.
He hasn't even come to get the lumber order he was waiting on. I left him a message a couple days ago letting him know it's ready.
Figures.
As soon as I make a commitment to myself to take sex more seriously and wait till I find a guy I can have a future with...a great guy shows up and just friends is the best I can hope for.
With a really heavy sigh, I slump in my office chair and groan out loud.
At least there's one perk to being stuck out in the back office alone. I can talk to myself all day long and no one thinks I'm crazy.
"Well I guess that's the whole point of the pact," I tell the copy machine. "Weed out the ones that aren't serious."
The copy machine is ignoring me so I swivel my chair toward toward the water cooler.
"It's probably a good thing that he hasn't come back."
The compressor in the water cooler clicks on and an air bubble breaks free and burbles in the tank.
I assume the cooler agrees with me.
"No point in getting involved with one more short term boyfriend that I know isn't going to lead anywhere.
"Even if he is smokin' hot."
The cooler shuts off.
"And smart. And Funny..."
The cooler says nothing.
I guess it's not interested in my misery anymore.
I sigh again and stare into the empty room.
Reagan isn't just smart and funny and the kind of good looking that melts hearts and panties, there was something about him that felt different. I was starting to think we had a real connection.
The clock on the wall above the water cooler ticks off another minute and I let out one more dramatic sigh before deciding I should probably get back to work.
These invoices aren't going to log themselves.
When I turn my chair back to face the computer monitor, movement out on the lot catches my eye.
Not that that's unusual. Trucks come and go all day, people walk around, forklifts and loaders fill my days with so much of their back up warning beeping that I hardly even notice it anymore.
I'm just not interested in wo
rking today, so I spin in my chair to watch what ever's going on out in the yard today through the window.
The truck pulling up in front of my office trailer seems familiar but none of our regular contractors come to mind.
Then I get distracted by the guys out on the loading dock using the forklift as an elevator. Which is kinda funny, but mostly only because I'm not the OSHA officer for the company.
Which is probably how I totally miss seeing the driver of the truck before he walks through the trailer door and into my office.
"Hey there," he says.
OhmyGodthatgrin.
I should absolutely not immediately turn to melted butter when he flashes those dimples at me.
"I came to collect on that wood you owe me," Reagan's dimples deepen and he blushes a little like he's embarrassed at his own double entendre.
Oh yeah. His order.
Duh, Moll, I chastise myself, he's just picking up the lumber he ordered so he can do his brother's van build. This isn't about seeing you again.
"Of course," I chirp, sounding entirely too excited about it, "it's all on the dock waiting for you."
I curl my toes in my shoes under my desk in an attempt to make myself calm the fuck down.
No crying. No tantrums. No "where have you beens." And definitely no OMG-he's-so-hot-maybe-I'll-start-the-pact-over-laters!
The clock above the water cooler buzzes. It always makes me feel like I'm back in school when it does it, but it does it everyday at 4:45. The boss set it that way so we'd know when to start shutting the office down.
Reagan looks at the clock, more puzzled than startled.
"Time for recess," he jokes.
I can't help laughing with him.
"Sorry, that means the loading dock is closed," I explain. "It takes awhile for the guys to get the equipment put away, so they stop loading before five. You're gonna have to get your wood some other day."
I try not to sound like I'm flirting.
I'd love to give Reagan wood. And not just the load of lumber he's here to pick up.
Reminding myself that that's not going to be an option I force myself to give him a weak smile instead.
"That's fine."
He leans on the counter separating the lobby from my little office area.
"Spence hasn't been on my back lately, so I guess he's not in a big hurry anymore. I actually came for you, Molly."
Don't get too excited, I warn myself.
"I want to talk to you about some things," he tells me seriously.
When he gets serious, his dimples disappear and now I notice how chiseled his jaw is.
It's hard not to get my hopes up as I look at him. His tousled blonde hair, his baby blues, the biceps that threaten to shred the short sleeves of that t-shirt like the incredible hulk if he flexes even a tad.
"What kind of things?"
I cringe at the squeak in my voice.
"Important things," he says, that playful grin-- and those dimples-- reappearing.
"OK, talk," I say.
Looking at the clock I add, "You've got eight more minutes till I clock out."
Reagan looks up at the clock and then back at me.
"I want to show you something first," he says, "as soon as you're off work, I want to take you somewhere, OK?"
"Where?" I should totally not go anywhere with him. Just this playful little small talk we're doing while we run out the clock till my work day is over is making me feel giddy.
Something about Reagan just feels entirely too comfortable.
If I let my guard down, I'll be head over heels before I clock out.
Reagan laughs at my impatience. "It's a surprise, Moll," he tells me pointedly.
The clock clicks while I stare up at him from my desk. Trying to decipher the mysterious grin on his face.
"Five o'clock," he announces, "Let's get outta here."
Reagan
Molly gets prettier every time I see her.
Her hair is down today and she's wearing a pair of jeans with fancy back pockets that make it extra hard not to notice her perfect ass as we walk to my truck.
"So is this surprise good or bad?" Molly asks as she climbs into the passenger seat of the truck
"I sure as hell hope it's good," I tell her with a nervous laugh as I shut the door for her.
Shit. I hope it's good. I think to myself as I walk around to the driver's side and climb behind the wheel.
"Why would I give you a bad surprise?" I ask.
Molly makes a little mumbled noise that sounds vaguely like "Ayeunnoe" as she shrugs.
"Sometimes people think they're doing something good when really they're just being dicks," she says as a follow up.
I can't help but feel like there's a story behind that comment and I sure as hell hope it isn't aimed at me.
"Well I promise you," I tell her sincerely, "that no matter how bad I fuck up, Moll, it's never because I'm trying to be a dick, OK?"
I can't really turn and look at her while I'm driving so the best I can do is gauge her reaction through the rear view mirror.
Molly's eyes meet mine in the reflection and I see hurt and hope in that look.
"This is it," I announce as I park the truck in front of the shop. "Come on in, I'll show you around."
"What is this?" She asks as I open the office door with my new key.
"It's a big empty building," I tease, closing the door behind us after she joins me inside.
"I can see that."
There's laughter in her sarcasm and I like the sound of it.
"Why are we in a big empty building?" She asks as she begins exploring the office portion of the new shop.
"Well, that's what I want to talk about."
I'm about to go for broke here.
"You're standing in the office of Price Concepts Construction's new location."
Molly stops her self-guided tour and turns to give me a blank stare.
God, I wish I could read the look on her face right now.
"And...your new office."
"You're opening a second location?" She asks, obviously confused. "Are you offering me a job?"
Before I can answer she starts shaking her head.
"No no no," she's telling me, "Reagan, I told you, I don't want to work in construction forever, I want to go back to school, I want to do something that doesn't involve getting called 'darlin' by old men all day. Thanks but no thanks."
"I build tiny homes," I point out, "and I'm starting to do more of these vanbuilds like I'm helping Spence with, my clients aren't exactly the chauvinist good ole boy types."
Her shoulders rise with a sigh but this time it's me cutting her off.
"Besides, I'm not offering you a contractor liaison diplomatic ambassador bullshit title and 50 cents over minimum wage, I need someone who can handle the books and maybe take care of purchasing. And based on my current operation, I estimate that's only about 20 hours a week worth of work. Which leaves plenty of time for online classes."
Her eyes are wide as she stares at me.
"So you don't have to leave Landsburg to go back to school," I add.
"OK, but 20 hours a week doesn't pay my bills, Reagan," she tells me, "let alone pay for tuition, and besides, who are you hiring to do all the actual construction if you're not going to be here? Because I know every contractor in Landsburg and I don't think any of them are looking to get into tiny home building."
Time to lay it all out.
"I'm not opening a second location, Molly," I tell her, moving across the room to take her hands in mine, "I'm moving my entire operation to Landsburg."
"You whaa?"
The lighting in here isn't so good. The first thing I'll have to do is update that and do a major reno on the office space to bring it into the modern era.
Still, Molly's eyes are all warm golden hazel looking up at me as I hold on to her hands.
"Thing is, Molly, I never put much stock into the whole love at first sight thing till I met y
ou, but by the time I got home after kissing you goodnight the other day, I knew you were my forever girl."
Her eyes are filled with surprise and questions and a hint of tears that I really fucking hope are happy ones.
"But you haven't called," she whispers tightly, "you stopped coming to see me. I thought you weren't interested after I told you about our dumb pact."
Realizing she's hurt kills me.
"Hell no," I say, squeezing her fingertips lightly, "I respect the hell out of your decision to take a break and wait for the real deal. And I'm not telling you this to get in your pants, Moll."
Before I fuck things up worse, I make sure I say exactly what I'm thinking here.
"I love you and yeah, sure, I'm tellin' you that I'm the guy you're waiting for, but I'm willing to wait as long as it takes to let you realize that for yourself. I get that this is probably moving really fast for you, so you take as much time as you need. When you're ready, I'm still gonna be here."
"You love me?"
I swear, she's the cutest thing on the planet right now, with her forehead all wrinkled and her bottom lip pulled between her teeth.
"I do, Molly. And I'm hoping to get to say that to you again real soon."
"I love you too, Reagan," she whispers like it's a secret she's not supposed to tell me. "Is that crazy?"
"If it is, I'm glad we're crazy together," I tell her, going in for a kiss before she can say another word.
Molly
Since our mutual confession the other day, Reagan's been hanging out more.
He walked me through his plans for the shop remodel and we went over the details of what he wants me to do for the company-- and what it'll pay.
It feels so weird to be talking to him about a paycheck when we're also discussing some pretty serious plans for a future together.
Like when we'll move in together, and how long we want to wait before we turn shacked up into Mr. and Mrs.
Just thinking about it gives me goosebumps.
I know it's crazy but I'm so sure about this.
And he hasn't pushed me to break my pact at all. Just like he promised.
Although, there've been a few time that I came close to saying to hell with it. But we both know we're moving fast, and it's important for me to be sure that we aren't rushing because we're thinking below the belt.
The Last First Date Page 3