by M. Mabie
“You’re up early,” I said, pushing the shovel into the sand pile beside us.
“To tell you the truth, I couldn’t sleep. I tried for a while, then I ended up going to the station and working.”
I tried to ignore the fact that, with her leaning over like she was, I could see down her shirt.
Tried. I guess that’s one of those things I’m just not very good at, and, coincidentally, another I wouldn’t mention.
Work after no sleep? That couldn’t be very productive. “Did you get much done?”
“I lined out the whole day and tomorrow, then I got bored.” She looked up at me when the bag was filled just past half-full, like it should be.
Holding the shovel between my legs, I pulled the drawstrings and lifted it into the air. “Bored? That’s one word you don’t say around here. You’ll get put to work. Spin it,” I said.
She gave it a twirl. After a round or two, I set it back down and tied it shut, then handed it off to Dub. He was taking the finished bags and handing them off to the person stacking them in the back of the next truck to head up the levee.
“Well, I am here to work for you. So I suppose I came to the right place.” I could think of about a dozen other things to keep her occupied, but shoved all twelve of them into the same place I sent the image of her in my bed.
After a few more bags, my mom pulled up and I handed the shovel back to Sunny. “I’ll be right back.” It was good timing, there’s only so much baseball and oil changing I could concentrate on to keep my dick down with her chest in view like it was.
I ran over, fetched the gloves, and gave my mom a kiss on the cheek. Happy she’d hurried. I knew what she was thinking. Even though she didn’t say a word, it was all over her face. I’d seen it on everyone’s there.
Surprisingly, nobody was making a show of it or saying anything. I had that to be thankful for. So far.
Turned out that five foot three blond was a worker, and even with no sleep she pulled her weight. All day. In the sun.
We alternated between bagging and making runs on the trucks to the levee. But where I went, she followed, talking and joking like we were old friends. Around lunch we tarped and bagged most of the way back to the shed and were heading south next.
I sat on my tailgate and she sat on my cooler, and we ate the turkey sandwiches and chips my mom brought everyone. Drinking our weight in water.
I’d had much worse workdays.
I was expecting to feel like death warmed over by noon, but, since I’d kept busy, I was fine.
The night before, I’d lain there in bed, my head swimming and replaying all of it. Over and over. Not tired in the least.
I wanted to see him again, another time where there wasn’t really any pressure. He’d said he wanted to see me again, which gave me a thrill. But, Wynne was such a small town; people would talk. They probably already were.
I was the old chick chasing the young guy who was just back from college. When I thought about it like that, it felt a little pathetic.
When I was with him, though, it totally didn’t feel like that. He didn’t seem younger than me—at all. If anything, he was way more mature. Rhett was a man who spoke softly when needed and spoke up when there was a reason to.
I’d heard him shout a few times throughout the day. To a truck heading out as he smacked the side of it when it passed him. To his dad across the property when we ran out of bags, asking where more were.
I loved how he spoke to me, but hearing him yell reminded me how strong he was. How he tempered his voice in our conversations.
Right before we started again, after eating the sack lunches his mom brought us, Haley, his sister showed up.
“’Bout time you show your face,” he teased her. As I cleaned up my trash, pitching it in the dumpster beside the shed, I listened and pretended to be busy.
“Your mother had me making an ass load of sandwiches,” she replied. “You’re lucky I had an extra pair of gloves. When was the last time you saw Mom wearing gloves? Come on.”
I’d been truly grateful for the gloves. When I’d put them on I could already feel the wear on my hands in a few places that were raw. I could have kissed him on the spot for being so thoughtful. Then again, he’d always been thoughtful, and I’d never kissed him for it before.
I walked back and waved the leather in my hands and said, “Thank you, Haley. I didn’t even think to grab gloves this morning.”
She shot a friendly smile my way. “No problem. Do they fit?”
“They’re perfect. Do you need them back?”
“No. I have more.” She waved me off and tied a red bandana around her forehead. One of those would have been nice too. I’d been sweating like a junkie all day.
It wasn’t a bright idea to wear a white t-shirt to play in the sand and dirt. I was a mess, but it was just the first thing I grabbed when I’d decided to help the Caraways that morning.
“We’ve got enough sand for a few more truckloads, and Dad called for more. Said they should show up in an hour or so. They’re hauling it from the quarry.” He re-tied one of his bootlaces, and when he squatted I noticed how big and defined the muscles in his legs were.
I’d drunk a lot of water that day, sweating like I was, but watching him made my mouth bone dry all over again.
“Cool. Where do you need me?” she asked.
After standing and stretching his arms above his head, he answered, “Up to you. You can bag up here or ride down the levee on the next truck.” He looked at me and added, “We’ve been going back and forth. Take your pick.”
His younger sister gave him a curious look and asked, “Oh, you two”—she pointed between us—“you’ve been going back and forth, huh?” Her face remained a semblance of seriousness, but her sarcasm was as clear as the welcomed blue sky.
He stood taller and shifted his weight, putting his hands on his slender hips, then shot her a warning with his eyes. That was enough for her.
If he looked at me like that, it would have been enough for me, too.
I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side. Well, then again, it was fierce and sexy. Maybe a little of his bad side wouldn’t be that awful.
I shook the thought away. Lack of sleep was causing my imagination to do all sorts of crazy things. Like daydreaming about what he could do with those big arms and that strong back.
I was tired, but the panther was wide awake.
As we filled bags, I saw my dad’s SUV pull in, and it made me chuckle. He sold insurance and was far from a farmer. I stopped what I was doing and a few seconds later Rhett, beside me, did, too.
My father had on a pair of cargo shorts, an old polo shirt, and the sneakers he wore to mow the yard. It made me laugh that those were his work clothes.
“What are you doing here, Sunny? I thought you’d be at the station.” He looked at his watch, keenly aware of my normal schedule. I was usually there until early afternoon on Saturdays, but I’d finished my work before the sun even came up.
“Oh, I got done early. What are you doing here?”
“I came to help. They swung by and offered to lend a hand with my tree, and they cleaned up yours. It’s the least I can do. At work yesterday, I heard you on the radio talking about the levee. So thought I’d drive over today and see if I can pitch in.” He looked to my left and nodded at Rhett.
“What can I do for you?” he asked and stretched out a hand to shake.
Rhett stood tall, pulled his glove off with his underarm and shook with my dad. “Thank you, Mr. Wilbanks. Do you mind taking these full bags and stacking them in that truck bed over there?”
My dad looked behind us to where Rhett was talking about, then started packing off the bags we’d filled.
I didn’t know what to say, but I was really happy. Really tired. Really sweaty. Really sandy. And completely happy.
With my head tucked down shoveling, both of us using my bucket method now, I caught a glimpse of Rhett’s face and he looked pretty damn ha
ppy, too.
The sand truck came and dropped off another load, but came along with another truck full of bags that were already filled—which was awesome.
I saw my dad and Kent talking a little later, looking our way and laughing at something. Rhett saw it too, but didn’t say anything as he shook his head and smacked my shovel to get me back to work.
He was a sexy foreman, so I got right to it.
All but one more track of field was left when they decided to call it for the day.
It was awesome how many people showed up to help them. Obviously, more than the Caraways expected.
Aaron, and the other firemen who had come by to bag during their shift, went back to the station. Even with all of them gone, there were still quite a number of folks milling around, having a few brews, courtesy of Mr. and Mrs. Caraway. Talking to each other across truck beds and leaning on hoods, they shot the shit and gave each other hell after a long day’s work.
I hadn’t done that much manual labor in my life—well, ever—and I could feel it in my muscles.
Hopefully, I’d sweated a few pounds off and that damn skirt would zip all the way up. It was doubtful, but a girl could wish.
By the time the sun started to fall behind the tree line and the goddamn biting-ass mosquitos started humming around my ankles, the only people left were Rhett, his dad, Mr. Smith, Haley, and me.
“I don’t think I can go to Nashville with you, Rhett,” his younger sister said.
I didn’t think she was twenty-one yet because every time she’d pull another beer from the cooler her dad would tell her, “One more.” That had been three beers ago.
“That’s fine,” he said to her. “What are you doing?”
“They’re letting RAs move in early. So, I’ll be heading back to get my hall ready.” She smiled as wide as humanly possible. Then she lifted her head to the sky and exclaimed, “I’m going back to school.” She seemed supremely eager about it. “Mom and Dad are driving me nuts.”
“Better you than me,” he said.
She chuckled. “My friend Carrie got the floor under mine, so we’re both going back early.”
I filed Nashville away in my head and thought about how fun it would be to go. I’d always dreamed of walking Broadway and listening to the music I grew up on. Drinking and laughing and taking it all in.
Maybe someday.
The beer wasn’t doing anything for me. Other than being cold and wet, it just didn’t taste all that great. I heard a roll of thunder, and, although I hated to go home, I knew my shower and my couch were calling my name.
Rhett had been a lot more talkative with me, in his own way, but he hadn’t asked me to do anything later. That was just as well. It was going to be a pretty lazy night for old Sunny.
By the second clap of thunder, everyone was loading up their things. Ready to head out. Haley stood in the back of her Jeep, sorting out the soft top to put back on, and I tried to hand the gloves back to her, but she waved me off again. “We appreciate the help, Sunny. Keep ‘em.”
“Thanks,” I said. “See you later.”
Rhett had pulled their old farm truck into the shed and was helping his dad put a tarp over the pile of sand they still had left to use.
“I’m going to head out,” I shouted their way as I walked to my car. “See you guys later.”
As I got in and rolled down the windows, Rhett jogged over and rested his forearms on the roof of my Honda. I got a delicious whiff of whatever deodorant he was wearing.
“Hey, thanks a lot for today,” he said and looked down, his hat hiding most of his face.
“You’re welcome. It’s no big deal.” I stared at the steering wheel and traced the emblem on the center of it with my finger.
“I’m sure you’re tired, but…” he paused and let out a huff and a nervous whoo sound.
Before I knew it, I interrupted and asked, “Do you want to come over?”
He gave me a closed mouth smile and nodded. “Yes.”
I blushed and my palms began to sweat. It was embarrassing how obvious I was, but the pleased look on his face soothed my humility. “All right.”
There’d been a flirty tension between us the entire day, but we were working, and there were people around us the whole time. So it was all very casual, but damn if I wasn’t dying to know if he was feeling it, too.
It started to sprinkle, so I said, “I’m going to take a shower. Wash this sand off. I’ll leave the garage open. Pull in there, if you want.” If it was raining, there was no use in him getting drenched. I’d park to one side so there would be enough room for both of us to pull in.
I looked at his face, but all I saw was his fucking lips. God, I wanted to touch them. When my eyes finally lifted to his, he was looking at my mouth, and I bit my bottom lip under his attention.
“I’ll text you when I’m on my way,” he said and stood up quickly, then gave the roof of my car a pat and walked off.
I didn’t know how much more of that I could take before I planted one on him. I was becoming obsessed with thinking about it. How he would taste. If he was a good kisser. How it would feel.
Part of the time, I was fantasizing how amazing it might be, and the other part was spent trying to convince myself it would be awful so I could leave the poor guy alone. Maybe he’d suck and I could just sweep it all under the rug. I’d dropped guys before for trying to swallow my face. I could surely do it again.
The flip side of that theory was the terrifying possibility he might think I sucked instead. It was a risk I was willing to take.
When I got home, I let poor Andy out and decided that maybe I should put up a fence and add a doggy door for the little fella.
It was mentally added to my Hey, Dad list.
I showered and washed my hair, then put on a flowy tank top and jean shorts. I didn’t bother blow drying. My arms were so tired from shoveling and lifting bags all day that I could barely lift them to shampoo. Regardless of my exhaustion, I still applied a swipe or two of mascara. I didn’t feel like wearing much makeup, and the sun had given me a nice color, but my eyelashes were damn near clear and I looked weird without it.
It wasn’t like me to be such a mess, but he’d seen me look like shit all day. At least I was clean. Delirious, but clean.
I wandered down the hall into the kitchen where my phone was, having forgotten he was going to text before he drove over. I flipped it over and swiped it open to see if I’d missed anything, and I hadn’t.
Soon, I was standing in front of the open refrigerator, eating grapes as I browsed my options. I was hungry but didn’t have the energy to cook.
It was about a quarter to seven and I thought about calling the diner for something to pick up. Then thought fuck it when I remembered I had a few frozen pizzas in the freezer in the garage.
I didn’t even bother with shoes, not caring that my clean feet were about to get dirty again as I walked through the garage barefoot. I walked down the wooden stairs, around my car, and then I saw headlights shining on the wall.
Was he here already? He didn’t text.
I hoped he liked pizza or had already eaten because I was going to haul ass on one right in front of him.
His truck was loud and I stood with the Tony’s box in hand as he turned off the headlights and came to a stop on the concrete in front of me.
Startling me, he honked the horn and laughed as I jumped. Grandpa used to do that shit to me all the time. Jackasses.
He was careful not to ding the door of my car as he climbed out, bringing with him a clear plastic bag that looked like it was full of containers. I could already smell something good inside of them.
“What’s that?”
He looked down then back at me. “Meatloaf, green beans, mashed potatoes and gravy?” He said it like a question, probably unsure if I’d like it.
But, I did. I loved it.
“Oh, shit. I could kiss you right now.” Yeah, I knew what I’d said, but for so many reasons it was the
honest-to-God truth.
He stood taller then set the bag on the hood of my car, not breaking eye contact with me. “Then come here and do it,” he said, earnestly.
It made me laugh, but he didn’t crack a smile so I let mine slide off my face.
No. He wasn’t just serious … he was waiting.
I was nervous, and even though it was kind of sudden, kissing had been my idea after all. It was about to happen and I had no fucking idea what to do. I took a few steps closer and watched his chest rise and fall.
When my feet were next to his, I tentatively pressed my hand against his stomach to steady myself as I went up on my tiptoes. I felt his muscles tighten and twitch under my palm and I swallowed my apprehension.
“I’m going to kiss you,” I said more to myself than him, like I was reminding myself it was actually—finally—about to happen.
“I wish you would,” he replied, not angling his head down much, but his eyes were cast low to mine.
“I was wishing you’d kiss me first tonight,” I said a breath’s distance from his lips. Holding myself up on the balls of my feet had my already sore calves screaming.
I heard something hit metal just out of my vision and turned to see his five fingers spread across the front fender of his truck as if to brace himself.
Did he need support for this, too? The thought warmed me.
Just as I blinked and worked up the gumption to do it, he said, “Fuck it,” and lifted me up with his free arm. His mouth yet to touch mine, we were eye to eye.
Hazel to blue.
“You can kiss me first tomorrow, Sunny. I cannot wait any damn longer.”
My eyes closed and my arms wrapped around his neck, feeling how solid he was. His lips met mine. Closed, but firm and warm. I felt a low rumble vibrate through his chest.
When his mouth parted, a vulnerable sound left my throat and he came at me for more, catching my bottom lip between his and angling his head to deepen the kiss.
If there was a feeling I’d been chasing through my adult dating life, it was that one.
Breathless. The chest-stretching need I’d always craved was there in his kiss.