Sin and Cider

by Kimberly Reese

  “Mac, darlin’, I have plenty of plans for your body and harming it and burying it are nowhere on that list,” I drawl.

  A sexy blush tinges her cheeks and I smile, reveling in her reaction to my words. To save her from embarrassment I continue speaking. “Our dinner is actually somewhere on this property.”

  She looks grateful for the quick subject change. “It is? Are we having a picnic?”

  “You can call it that, except we won’t be sitting on a blanket among the weeds. You’ll see. We’re almost there.”

  Silence fills the cab of the truck as I slowly drive over rock and shale toward our destination. The trees arching overhead provide relief from the brightness of the setting sun and mute the blazing oranges and reds to vivid golds and pinks. A few minutes pass quietly until we reach a clearing, and I hear Mac’s indrawn breath when she spots where we’re having dinner.

  In the middle of the clearing is the construction site for a new build. The large home isn’t complete but the shell has been erected so it’s technically safe to go inside. Once it’s finished the home will be beautiful, and I can tell by the expression on Mac’s face that she agrees. A moment later she confirms my thoughts.

  “I know it isn’t done yet, but it’s lovely,” she says, a trace of awe in her voice.

  You’re lovely, I think. Instead I say, “Thank you. It’s my most recent build and is hands down my favorite.”

  Mac swivels in her seat and looks at me in surprise. “You’re building this?”

  The pride is evident in my voice as I respond. “Yes. I wanted to show it to someone.” She looks at me for a moment, and I realize that may have sounded a little too intimate. Shit. I stop myself from saying anything else because then it’ll just seem like I’m trying to cover it up.

  “Thank you,” she murmurs.

  I nod in response, and once I pull up to the house I hop out and open up the door for her. As she gets out of the cab the faint smell of her perfume or whatever the fuck she wears wafts up to my nose. I feel a smile tug at my lips as I realize that she smells like apples, tart and sweet, just like her personality. I reach over into the bed of the truck, pull out the cooler that holds our food, and guide her to the large wraparound porch. The electricians haven’t been out yet so I set it up so we can have our picnic outside.

  As we climb the steps Mac squeals in delight. “This is awesome!” She bounds up the rest of the way and goes to sit on the swinging bench. It’s the only piece of furniture on this piece of land and is the perfect place to relax and watch the sunset. Seeing her swinging merrily in the chair makes me break out in an answering smile.

  Chuckling as I join her on the bench, I say, “I know. I only ever do awesome things.”

  “Oh, you’re so modest.” She lightly punches my arm and giggles. “What are you gonna feed me?”

  “Only the best.” I open up the cooler and start removing the contents. “I hope you weren’t craving sandwiches or something that wasn’t messy.”

  “As if,” she scoffs. “I worked up an appetite today.”

  “Good. Cause I brought hot chicken, macaroni and cheese, fried green tomatoes, and chocolate chip whiskeys.”

  “You’re trying to kill me,” she momentarily groans as if she’s in pain. “And what are chocolate chip whiskeys?”

  “The best things ever. Chocolate chip cookies with whiskey mixed in. The little extra kick from the liquor makes all the difference.”

  “Well what are you waitin’ for, Lawson? Plate me up, please! I’m famished.”

  I laugh and prepare her plate for her. We sit in companionable silence as we look out at the horizon and devour our food. I’m relieved and admire that she isn’t trying to hide the fact that she eats like a regular human being, unlike some other women I’ve gone out with. Mac is real, and that’s part of her appeal. After we stuff our faces full of food we both lean back and relax, the bench rocking gently.

  “Wow, I didn’t realize how much I missed homemade Southern food until I came back. That was the real deal. Did you make all that?” Mac looks content and is patting her flat stomach.

  “Ha, no. I can cook, but my cooking will never be as good as that. Langley helped me out and cooked.”

  “Langley cooked? I know she is an incredible baker but wow, that meal was something else.”

  “She makes magic happen in a kitchen. I have to restrain myself from overeating sometimes or I’ll lose my girlish figure.” I waggle my eyebrows and Mac laughs, a sweet tinkling sound that carries on the breeze as we sit and sway.

  “I don’t play for the other team, but I may need to ask your sister to marry me.” She glances at me out of the corner of her eye, and we both burst out laughing again. We sit and watch the sunset for a few more minutes, the fading rays of sunshine making everything glow before she breaks the silence.

  “Lawson?”

  “Yeah, darlin’?” I turn my head to look at her and her eyes are already on me, her expression sweet and innocent.

  “This is nice. Thank you.”

  Her words are simple, but the sincerity rocks me to my core. I’ve been out with a lot of women and none have been genuinely content to spend time with me when things weren’t getting physical. Mac, however, just seems happy to sit here with me and do nothing, all physical stuff aside. We revert back to silence, and it’s then I realize that I’m comfortable and enjoying the non-physical stuff as well. Shit. I’m in trouble with this girl. I’m so glad this is only temporary.

  I really wish this wasn’t temporary, I inwardly sigh. Wait, what? No, I can’t afford to think like this. No matter how amazing this date has been so far, I can’t fall victim to Lawson’s infamous charm. It would help if he was an asshole or something, but he’s not one at all. I’m getting too comfortable hanging out with him like this. Between his body heat warming up my insides and the dying rays of the sun warming my skin, I decide to disturb the peaceful silence. Shaking my head at my inner musings, I angle myself toward him just a bit.

  “So tell me about this project. From what I can see it’s incredible.”

  His chest seems to puff up a little bit in what I assume is pride. “You’d think that since I own a construction business I’d have built a lot of homes by now, but that’s not the case. A lot of the jobs I’m contracted for are for repairs or additions. This is my first build from scratch.”

  “Who designed it?”

  He smirks as he asks, “Are we playing twenty questions?”

  “Just answer the question,” I say, lightly shoving him with my hand. Even that brief contact causes a zing of awareness to race up my arm. I’m pathetic.

  “I worked closely with the landowner and besides a list of basic requirements he was looking for, I was given free reign. I feel like a kid at their first fair, but it’s been a lot of fun. Sometimes I can’t believe I’m making something on this grand of a scale from nothing.”

  “I can’t even imagine building something like this from nothing but my imagination.”

  “Well, what is it you do in Chicago?” He’s angled himself toward me as well so our knees are now touching.

  “Ugh, you mean what I did in Chicago?”

  “What you did? As in past tense?”

  “Your twenty questions started one question ago,” I tell him, my voice serious.

  His deep chuckle rolls through me when he answers, that slight rasp rubbing across my senses. “Fine. What did you do in Chicago?”

  “I worked as a graphic designer. Before you ask what happened, I’ll give you a freebie. I quit. I’d been working there for a few years, and it was a long time coming. I can’t tell you how frustrated and fed up I was with the lack of recognition and opportunity from management. For months I felt like something was missing, and when my witch of an ex-boss pissed me off I up and quit.”

  “Wow, that’s brave of you.”

  I can’t help but laugh at his positive assessment. “Or stupid, depending on how you look at it. Now I’m here, trying to fi
nd myself. Goodness, that sounds so cliché.”

  “I don’t think so. If you needed to get away from things for a bit, what better place than where you grew up?” His voice is serious, and his expression is clear of judgement.

  “You’ve got a good point. I’m still trying to figure out what I want in life. I wish I was like you, so sure of what you want or don’t want. Not to mention the fact you build homes out of thin air,” I say in an effort to lighten the weight of my words. Lawson, however, still looks serious.

  “You’re not very different, Mac. I’m sure you have to create branding or images out of an idea in your head or your client’s head. It’s the same concept really, we just use different mediums.”

  I’m impressed by his insight and openness to discussing this with me. “Hmm, I haven’t thought about it that way.”

  We continue to go back and forth with questions, the conversation flowing easily between us. I am shocked to find out he’s never been to Chicago and have to bite my tongue to stop myself from inviting him to visit me sometime. I’m not sure if that would cross a line or not, so I hold off on issuing an invitation. We’re both nearing the end of our twenty question limit before he surprises me for the umpteenth time tonight.

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Um, that’s not a question.”

  “Fine, what’s something I don’t know about you?”

  I contemplate my answer and don’t know if it’s the food coma I’m about to become victim to or the intoxicating feeling of being in his presence for so long. Mustering up my courage, I decide to throw caution to the wind and tell him about my long-standing teenage infatuation. He asked for it.

  “I had the biggest crush on you when I was a teenager. You’re actually the reason I chose to go to college in Chicago.”

  My words come out in a rush, but I know he understands my words because his body stiffens slightly. I don’t even want to see his expression so I force out a laugh and look down at my lap.

  “Ha, just kidding.” Wow, I suck. That didn’t even sound convincing.

  “Mac.” His voice is firm, but I can’t bring my eyes to his. I keep my gaze trained on my shorts and pick at non-existent lint.

  “Mac,” he repeats. “Look at me.”

  I can’t avoid the command in his voice a second time, so I slowly look up and stare into his eyes. “Now,” he continues, “say that again, please. And what do you mean I’m the reason you moved to Chicago?”

  “It’s, uh, it’s…” I stumble and clear my throat. “It’s silly and doesn’t amount to a hill of beans.”

  For a moment I have trouble catching my breath because he doesn’t even crack a smile at the old Southern phrase. Instead, all his focus is unflinchingly on me as he responds. “No, it’s not. Not to me.”

  Heavens to Betsy, why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut? I stare at him and he continues to wait for my answer, looking at me expectantly. What have I gotten myself into?

  9

  Lawson

  I stare at Mac as she sits next to me, her face blushing furiously. She looks uncomfortable, but she can’t just throw that shit out there and then try and take it back. Her eyes dance with mine, her lashes fluttering like delicate butterflies as she tries to deal with her nerves. I don’t break my stare because whether she likes it or not, I’m getting an answer. She takes a deep breath, casts one last glance my way, and pointedly looks out at the landscape when she finally starts to answer my question.

  “So, uh, yeah,” she falters and visibly centers herself before continuing. “I had this mega crush on you as a teenager. This is so embarrassing,” she says as she blushes an even deeper shade of red. “You had to have known. I must’ve been so obvious.”

  “Honestly, I had no idea. I’m a guy, Mac. We’re pretty clueless,” I smile gently, hoping that she’ll be less nervous.

  With an answering smile she responds. “Yeah, that’s true. Anyway, do you remember the night of my graduation dinner?”

  I scrub a hand over the back of my neck as I try and remember. I have to think far back and vaguely recall going, but details are fuzzy. “Um, I remember going. That’s about it.” I can’t help the embarrassed chuckle that comes out.

  “That’s fine, I don’t expect you to remember. It’s probably only vivid in my mind because I was mortified.” She notices the apologetic look on my face and brushes off the apology with a wave of her hand before I can vocalize it. “It’s not your fault. That night I kept getting asked about my plans for college and if I’d ultimately end up pursuing my graphic design degree here or in Chicago. Well,” she pauses, “I had my answer that night after I overheard you talking to Smith.”

  “What happened?”

  She glances at me, and her expression is serious. “I have to preface this with the fact that I was young and stupid. I can promise you that I’m not an inexperienced eighteen-year-old girl anymore, so you won’t have to worry about this happening.”

  “O-kay?” I say, the word drawn out slowly and sounding more like a question than a statement. I’m curious to hear where this is going.

  “I was hoping you would see me differently and that I’d have a shot with you. Crazy, I know.” A short, self-deprecating laugh leaves her lips. “I went to go talk to you after you left the table and heard my brother telling you he thought I had a thing for you. You didn’t believe him but, needless to say, you made it very clear that I wasn’t womanly and that you’d never see me that way. And of course, me being a dramatic teenage girl, that sealed the deal for me moving out of state for school.”

  God, I’m an asshole. A grade-A asshole. “Mac—”

  She cuts me off before I can attempt what would be my second apology tonight. “Lawson, it’s really okay. We were both young. I was stupid. Obviously you’re attracted to me now.” Her mood seems to lift and her eyes have a sparkle to them when she throws out her next words. “I mean how could you not be? I’m freakin’ amazing.”

  She’s trying to make light of the situation by laughing about it, but I can tell she’s trying to move on from this topic. Before I let that happen I have to clear the air.

  “That you are, Mac. That you are.” I flash her a smile. “I’d still like to apologize. You’re right, we were both young and I was a stupid guy in my mid-twenties. I won’t lie and say I ever thought about you in anything but a brotherly fashion before now, but I want you to know that I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  She looks touched and embarrassed by my apology. Before she can say anything I continue. “Now, though, I can honestly tell you that everything but brotherly thoughts are racing through my mind. You’re a beautiful woman, Mac. I mean that. I’d like to make it up to you.”

  I reach over and grab the end of her long braid, savoring the silky texture as I rub the strands at the end between my fingers. The air is charged with our mutual attraction and I can hear her breathing get shallower, her chest starting to rise more rapidly.

  “You’d like to make it up to me?”

  “Mmhmm, just tell me how.”

  “Okay, I’ve got it. I know how you can make it up to me.”

  “And how’s that?” Man, I really hope she says I can make it up to her with my fingers or my mouth or, better yet, my cock.

  “Tell me about your most embarrassing moment.”

  I stare at her for a moment, not sure if I heard her correctly. Her expression is playful but I know she’s serious. I groan because this is not a story I want to tell. “My most embarrassing moment?”

  “Yep! If you do this I’ll accept your apology and call us even.”

  She looks excited now, and even though it isn’t the kind of excitement I was hoping for, I can’t find it in me to take it away.

  “You have yourself a deal.” I release her hair and lay my arm behind her on the bench. “It’s bad that I don’t even have to think about it, but my most embarrassing moment happened when I was twenty.”

  “I’m list
ening.”

  Oh, she’s listening all right. Her look of anticipation is so obvious. If I gave her a bucket of popcorn she’d look like she was sitting in a movie theater.

  “This never leaves you. Ever,” I clarify.

  “My lips are sealed,” she says as she runs her fingers over those lips I’ve been obsessed with, the same lips I had mine on yesterday.

  Forcing my mind away from the dirty path it wants to go down, I relive the details of a day I’d rather forget. “I blame myself, and I definitely blame Langley. We used to play pranks on each other all the time, and this was one of those times when a prank goes wrong. We’ve always been really close. At the time she was only twelve, and even at that age she was always in the kitchen, trying to make things. It was my turn to get her back, and I thought I was so smart because I was going to put laxative in one of her baking experiments.”

  “Oh, this is gonna be good,” Mac says, leaning forward slightly so she can hang on to my every word.

  “Probably not the word I’d use,” I say. “I had it all planned out. She was making crème brûlée that day, and I put laxative in her batch. At the time she was her main taste tester because no one really believed she’d get very good. We all thought it was just a passing hobby. Anyhow, I had a date that night and planned on getting ready after my run. I remember coming into the kitchen, and Langley handed me my protein shake like usual. To this day I still don’t know how she managed it, but it turns out the little witch was on to me. She found the laxative drops I had stashed away, dumped the batter I ruined, and added the drops to my shake.”

  “No!” Mac gasps. “She didn’t! What happened next?”

  Her shock makes me laugh. “Oh, she sure did, darlin’. Langley is a clever little sneak. Let’s just say I was having issues the entire night, and they kicked in shortly after I left for my date. For most of the night I was having to rush off to use the bathroom.”

  At this point Mac is trying to stifle her giggles by covering her mouth with her hand. “That’s terrible!”