Chapter 2
Conner
Present Day, damn near ten years later
“I want you to hit my tongue with it like you’re doing a mic check.” I look up from the comment on my latest thirst trap and wait for Nick’s contribution.
He scrolls on his cell and raises his eyebrows. “I want you to shake hands with my IUD.”
Oh, dear God. “That’s a winner.”
Sometimes we compare the most unhinged comments we’ve gotten from our online trends. These aren’t nearly the wildest, but it’s been a slow week for content because I haven’t had a lot of time to post.
“Women are wild,” I say, loading my truck up so I can head to my next job.
“Thank fuck for that. Life would be boring if they were anything less.”
“You about done here?” I ask as Nick grabs a drill.
“Yeah. Just need to finish up the railing, then I’m out.” He’s rebuilt a massive deck to the house I just finished landscaping. It’s rare that we work the same jobs anymore, so this one has been a ton of fun.
“Thanks for recommending me, Con.”
“Anytime.” Nick has his own construction company now and busts his ass night and day. Starting from the ground up isn’t easy. If I can help in any way, I will. “Have you heard anything back about that resort project yet?”
Nick shakes his head. “No, but I don’t expect them to make a decision until the end of the month.”
He sounds unbothered, but I know he’s secretly foaming at the mouth for that contract. If he gets to build their additional chalets, he’ll level up for sure. Fingers crossed he gets it.
Nick wipes the sweat from his brow. “Do me a solid before you go and make a post with me.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Come on. Real quick.”
“Fine. But we've gotta make two so I can post one on my account.”
“Obviously we’re making ten. Save the drafts for a down day so we’re not chasing our content tails all the time.”
He’s so smart.
When I first started making thirst traps, I felt like an absolute idiot. But I learned to get over my insecurities when I saw how much money I can make with a six-pack, dirt on my chest, and scuffed work boots. Wearing grey sweatpants fresh out of the shower is also a lucrative outfit.
Fat bank accounts foster fat egos and major confidence.
Just look at Nick. It’s a miracle his big head fits through a door at this point.
We make a bunch of quick videos—shirtless, of course—and get goofy with the trends we choose. Because that’s something else I’ve learned—this stuff doesn’t always have to be super-edited, hot, and sexy. It can be two guys having fun together. The ladies eat it up.
Once we’re done, Nick walks me back to my truck. “You got plans for later?”
“I have six properties to mow, a rose hedge to install, and a delivery to make on the other side of town. After that, I’m going home and crashing.”
“Sleep sounds nice,” Nick smiles.
“Then you should try it sometime.”
I swear I don’t know how that man functions on so little sleep all the time. It’s one of Bear Creek’s great mysteries.
“See ya, Con.” He hits the side of my truck with his palm and walks away to get back to finishing the deck.
As I’m halfway down the road, my cell buzzes with a text.
Taylor: Do you have a minute?
It’s already three in the afternoon and I’m running late for my next job. Our new guy called out sick, so I took his appointments today too. I don’t have time for a lunch break, much less a minute to spare today.
Me: What’s up?
Taylor: Can you stop by?
It takes all my restraint to turn left towards my next client instead of right and go to Taylor’s. It’s an awful habit I’ve never been able to crush. Taylor has always come first for me, but seeing that I work for her father, I really need to put my responsibilities ahead of anything else.
Especially since I’m trying to get another promotion.
Me: Not now. How about tonight around 9?
Taylor: No. It’s fine. I’m just being dumb.
My trailer squeaks so loudly when I bust a U-turn, it sounds like a banshee wailing. Shit, I’m going to need to get that looked at.
But first, Taylor.
Whenever she says something is fine, it’s not. And I hate it when she says she’s being dumb. That’s likely her boyfriend talking, not her.
And while we’re on the subject of her lame-ass boyfriend… fuck that guy. Austin has been dating her for over a year, and hasn’t once lived up to the standards I’ve set for him.
Texting my next two clients, I let them know I’m running behind and pull up to Taylor’s twenty minutes later.
She lives in a tiny house with a detached garage she converted into a shop.
There’s also a greenhouse in the back, which is filled to the brim with plants and reminds me of a jungle stuffed into a terrarium.
Grabbing two big buckets out of the back of my work truck, I carry them into Taylor’s shop, Gems-n-Stems. A little bell chimes when I open the door, and she looks over at me from behind the counter. Her brow knits together in confusion. “I thought you were busy.”
“Yeah, well, I had to make a delivery here anyway so…” I drop the buckets on the floor for her to see inside them.
Taylor’s eyes blow wide, and she squeals. “Holy shit!” She rushes around the counter and digs her hands into the thousands of dandelion heads I had been on my hands and knees plucking for hours.
“Oh my god, Conner. When did you have time to do this?”
I shrug, which is the only answer I’m willing to give. Admitting that I got up before the crack of dawn to pluck every yellow head I saw in the field I had to mow first thing this morning is not happening. It’ll make me look like a loser, especially since last week I did it with a headlamp on.
Plenty of things I do already make me look like a loser.
“Wow. These are fat and juicy ones.” Taylor scoops a bunch into her hands and inspects them. “And the leaves are such a great color.”
“They’re from a field that doesn’t use pesticides.” I take my baseball hat off and scratch my head. Damn, I stink. “Is it okay that I got them before the sun was fully up? I know timing is important for this kind of thing.”
“They’re perfect. Thank you!”
“No problem.”
She makes some kind of tea with these flowers and sells big batches to the local café too. But now that I’m looking at the fruits of my labor, it doesn’t seem like enough. “Do you need more?”
“I’ll get the rest myself.”
“I can help,” I offer before I’m able to stop my fat mouth from flapping.
She shakes her head. “I’ve got it. You’ve done plenty already. This is another great haul, Con.”
I’ll pluck more tomorrow morning.
Standing up, she brushes her hands off on her outfit, and I take note of the dress she’s in. It’s a white, knee-length sundress with black rubber muck boots.
Her hair’s down today, which is my favorite. It reminds me of sunflowers because the color changes from super pale in the summer to deep gold in winter. My hands always ache to run my fingers through it. Tug it. Pull her head back and—
“So… how’s work going?”
I’m ripped right out of my fantasy. “Same as always. Keeps me busy and out of trouble.”
She laughs as if nothing can keep me out of trouble. “Is the new kid driving you nuts yet?”
“He’s not terrible. Called out today, though.”
There’s a bit of silence between us I sometimes let get to my head. “Well… you good?”
“Yeah. Just doing my witchy shit,” she says, gesturing at the various stages of her drying racks and hung herbs. “Sindra put in a big order for rosemary oil, so I’m tackling that today.”
I love that we all take care of each other in this town. Sindra owns a soap shop that’s taken off and gone viral. She could order her ingredients from a bigger company, but she uses Taylor instead. It’s the only reason I’m willing to pay a premium on soap bars that make me smell like pine needles.
“Want to come over for a beer and a bonfire tonight?”
“I won’t be done with work until late.”
Taylor tilts her head. “Okay?”
Sometimes I’m not sure she fully understands how busy I am working for her father.
If Nick’s perfected the art of running on two hours of sleep, then I’m a close second.
A long day of working outside, combined with the heat and hard labor, means I’m dragging my sorry ass to bed as soon as I’m done my last job most nights.
“We’ll see,” I say because I can’t seem to tell this woman no. “I’m running late already. Not sure when I’ll be done because I have to plant a border of roses along the McNair property.”
She whistles because she knows that’s a lot of bushes.
I also have to load the trailer with them, all by myself. And it’ll most likely take me two trips to get them to the McNair’s.
Her father, Russel, isn’t an easy man to work for, which means there’s a lot of turn over.
I’ve stayed the longest and am forever trying to keep up.
Grow. Learn. He’s even paid for me to get some certifications after I brought up the idea of diversifying our services by offering water feature designs and aquascapes.
He seemed open to stepping outside his regular services, but I don’t know if that’s going to happen or not.
So far, it’s not. I think he just let me get certifications to shut me up for now.
But, hey, at least we hired a new kid to help. Who didn’t show up today because he’s sick. Probably because he went out drinking last night… according to his social media photo dump I saw this morning.
God, I’m exhausted.
“Do you need help?” she asks, all bright and cheery.
“Nah. I got it.”
She’s busy with her own projects and I don’t want her to work out in the blistering sun with thorns all day. If she got torn up, I’d likely set all the bushes on fire and then where would I be?
Unemployed, probably.
“So, what did you need to talk about?” The faster I know why she texted me to stop by, the faster I can get back to work.
“It’s nothing. Seriously. I feel bad that you came.” Taylor stares at the buckets and laughs. “Actually, it’s pretty funny this happened. I swear sometimes you’re psychic, bro.”
Bro.
Fucking hell, when does being friend-zoned stop feeling like the worst form of torture?
I’m bro to her now. Guess it could be worse. I could be nothing to her.
You know what? Bro’s good. Bro’s great. I love being bro.
“Why am I psychic this time?” I ask, digging for a compliment.
“I just got so big mad with Austin because he said he didn’t want me plucking the dandelions at the station.”
My fists clench. “What reason did he give?”
“That he didn’t want me doing it. That’s all. Like it’s so embarrassing for him or something.” She tosses her hands in the air. “I wasn’t asking him to do it. I wanted to do it. They never take care of that lawn, and it’s filled with these golden babies. But he said no.”
“Maybe he said no because he was going to do it himself.”
She glowers at me like I just said the dumbest thing ever.
And she’s right. I did. We both know Austin wouldn’t be caught dead on his hands and knees picking dandelions in front of his coworkers.
He already gives Taylor a hard time about owning a “woo-woo shop” and once asked why she doesn’t have an actual job in town that would make her more money.
I might have had something to say to him about that.
Might have accidentally on purpose sprayed fertilizer under his bedroom windows one night for it, too.
He and I don’t really get along. It’s not for lack of trying. I mean, hey, I do my best to be nice to all the dipshits Taylor dates. It’s common courtesy since she’s always been sweet to my girlfriends too. But Austin? That motherfucker gets under my skin.
No man should question why his girl doesn’t make more money. It’s his job to provide. It’s his honor to work hard so she doesn’t have to. Austin doesn’t get the life rule Taylor and I both live by: Do what you love, and you’ll never work a day in your life.
He doesn’t understand her. They fight all the time. He doesn’t appreciate her.
He sure as shit doesn’t deserve her.
“So yeah,” Taylor says, snapping me out of my thoughts. “I guess you picked up on my energy and knew I needed these.”
Taylor’s bright smile makes my chest swell. I love it when she’s happy.
“Cool. Well, I gotta get back to work. Can’t piss off the boss man.”
She grabs the buckets to carry into the back. “You could never piss my dad off, Conner. He loves you to pieces.”
“Well, he won’t love me when I tell him I’ve gotten behind on my schedule.” I need to leave but can’t seem to summon the strength. It feels so nice in her shop. And she smells so damn good. Looks amazing in her sundress too. “Hey, you got any of those moon pickles left?”
“Let me see.” She carries the buckets away and comes back a minute later with a jar that has three pickles floating in it. “You’re in luck.”
Yes. I. Am.
Now before you get carried away with questions, moon pickles are just regular pickles my girl leaves out in the middle of the night to soak up moon energy.
Do I believe they have magical powers? No.
Do they still taste good and load up my sodium intake after being dehydrated from working in the heat all day? Yes.
I grab the jar from her. “You’re the best.”
“I know.”
When I leave, a boost of energy zips through me. We’ll lie and say it’s from the moon pickles.
“Hey, Conner!” Taylor runs out of her shop, her rubber boots stomping across her muddy yard and she leans into my passenger side window. “So, are you coming over tonight for a beer?”
I’m exhausted. I just want to finish this day and crash because I’ll be up at the ass crack of dawn again tomorrow picking more dandelions for this little ray of sunshine who is smiling at me.
I should say no. Tell her I’ll take a raincheck.
Explain that I’m dog tired and could fall asleep right this second if I gave myself a chance to close my eyes.
Instead, I say, “Hell yeah. I’ll be here as soon as I’m done work. Want me to bring anything?”