Chapter 21
Another day, another dollar.
I have to remind myself of this each time I set foot onto the site. It’s a huge relief that I actually like who I work with, but I can’t shake the feeling that my days are being wasted and I’m missing out on life itself.
To make matters worse, I’m chasing after a girl who seemingly might never chase back. And why?
I scoff at the stupidity of my own question.
I know why. It’s not just her looks, and it sure as hell ain’t the chase, but more so the challenge. She’s not easy. Rather the opposite. And I’m drawn to it, but if I’m reading her right, she’s also drawn to me too.
Something in my gut tells me that isn’t my only hangup though.
I feel like there is so much life boiling beneath her hard exterior that never had the chance to shine.
I don’t want to fix her. You can’t fix things that aren’t broken, but I do think anything as beautiful and as wild as her needs some tending to.
Tending I’d be happy to supply even if it’s only for a short time.
I’d rather have any piece of her she’d give than none at all.
“You gonna actually work today or do you just think siding puts itself up?” A familiar, deep, raspy voice booms from behind me.
“Now, wouldn’t that be great, Richy?” I put on a fake smile as I turn to look at my boss.
The smell of his body odor engulfs the air around me and I wonder how a man who barely gets off his ass can sweat as much as he does.
My eyes scan over his shirt. Its gray color deepening near his pits and chest. His belly hangs out past the bottom hem of his shirt while his collar bears a gold chain.
His boots are clean, never seen a day of work in their life but I can only assume, by his profession, that he’s had to at least seen a few…
even if they were all from the sidelines.
Guess it pays to be born into success rather than have to actually work for it.
“No, what would be great is if you spent less time fucking off and more time working. Houses may be built on dreams for the owners, but dreaming ain’t what I pay your ass for.” His irritation with me is clear as day, but that doesn’t make it any easier for me not to fire back.
Judd shifts through some boxes that sit next to the house.
His expression changes from indifferent to annoyed when he overhears our conversation.
He offers a telling glare, taking a few steps toward us.
You’d never guess they were family unless you based it on their height alone.
Both are some of the tallest motherfuckers I’ve ever seen, but Judd is not only half the guy’s weight, but also a helluva lot nicer too.
“Hey, Boss, just the man I was looking for.” Judd butts into the conversation.
“And why is that, Judd?” His manner remains just as gruff, not softening in the slightest for his nephew.
“Well, Rhett and I were just about to start this siding when he noticed the nails are too long for the furring strips.” I’ll be honest, I wouldn’t have noticed if the nails were the wrong length, the siding was put on at an angle or if my damn boots were on fire.
My mind was, and remains, elsewhere, but I’m happy to pretend I wasn’t day-dreaming if it prevents me from losing my job.
Richy grunts. “I made the order myself. They’re correct.”
“Yeah, Boss, I have no doubt you nailed it. No pun intended.” Judd laughs, but Richy remains cold while I bite back my chuckle, thankful he’s willing to kiss ass, because I sure ain’t. “I think someone else missed the shot, though,” he says, holding up a twelve inch nail.
Okay, I might have noticed that.
Richy’s expression melts from anger to confusion.
“Uh, well sorry, Rogers. Makes a lot more sense on why you are standing here now. Those won’t work unless we plan to send the nail through the damn drywall inside.
They’re for a log home I’m working on. I’ve got to get a call in to my supplier and see why the fuck he sent them here. Clearly, someone’s a fucking idiot.”
Yeah, you.
He removes the helmet that barely fits his fat head and wipes sweat away with a handkerchief that he shoves into his back pocket. “Take your lunch early while I find the proper nails.”
We both watch in silence as he waddles toward his truck, groaning about how he wants someone’s ass on the line for this, and I can help but be grateful I’m no longer today’s target.
Judd breaks the silence between us. “Do I need to put you in timeout? I told you Richy was pissed off about something this morning.” He nudges my ribs with his elbow. “Look at me, saving the damsel in distress. Don’t ever say I didn’t do anything for you.”
“Wouldn’t dare.” I pause, turning to look at the house we’re almost finished with. “Wonder how the hell we ended up with those nails.” I turn toward him. “And how the fuck you knew about them just in time to save my ass from being canned.”
“I was going to tell him that a lady called down at the office asking for him, but the boxes just happened to catch my eye. Good thing too, because I didn’t know if my other idea would even work.”
“I can’t imagine the type of woman calling on him.” I shudder at the thought. “Good God, the man smells like shit about five minutes after he leaves the comfort of that air-conditioned truck.”
“Speaking of women,” Judd nudges me again with his elbow. “I hear there’s one breaking up the bromance.”
“I told your mom to keep our shit on the down low… How long have ya known? And don’t worry, only your sister’s got to call me Daddy.” I wriggle my eyebrows.
“Ah, shut up, Rhett.” He laughs. “You know I mean Sawyer’s woman.”
He’s not wrong. We used to do everything together, but between Sawyer and Daisy spending most of their free time together, and my roping competitions, I haven’t seen him much other than at work and sometimes in the evenings. It’s not Daisy’s fault though, we’ve just got shit to do.
“The bromance ain’t fizzlin’ out. And if ya wanted to join all ya had to do was ask, buddy,” I chuckle. “Daisy knows I’m part of the deal.”
“I’m sure she does, though if I remember correctly, you seemed rather interested in that friend of hers.”
“How so?” I counter, pretending I have no idea what he’s talking about.
Have I really been that obvious?
“You practically pulled out a phonebook to look up her shop once I mentioned it, for starters.” His eyebrow quirks up, his head cocking to the side as if he’s signaling he made a solid point.
“If my memory stands correct, I also think I saw you tossing a Southern Sip cup out the other day when you got out of your truck.”
“Well, I’ll be damned, folks. We’ve got Sherlock Holmes on the case.
Ya join the FBI, or what has ya on the hunt?
Did ya go through my underwear drawer too?
” I give him a hard time, but I’m not sure if it’s because I feel caught or because I’m surprised at all he notices.
Especially since I haven’t sneezed a word of it to Sawyer, since I, myself, don’t really know what Kaylee and I are, if anything.
“Yeah, I don’t think they make bio-hazard suits thick enough for me to venture into that drawer.
I’d never recover if I saw your skid-mark whitey tighties.
Nor do I want to.” Pretending to gag, he lets out a laugh.
“You just never asked me about anyone before, so it stuck with me, I guess. And it’s pretty hard not to notice when you have a drink that isn’t out of the break room in your hand. ”
“First off, I wear boxers, so that was probably your own drawer you’ve been gaukin’ at. And second, I don’t know whether I’m offended at how quick you’re gettin’ with these comebacks or proud because I’ve trained ya well.”
A shit-eating grin tugs on his lips right as my phone rings.
SAWYER: TELL JUDD RICHY IS SENDING EVERYONE HOME. HIS ENTIRE ORDER IS WRONG.
SAWYER: IM GONNA GO SEE DAISY
Putting my phone back into my pocket, I look back up at Judd. “Looks like this damsel’s gettin’ the rest of the day off.” He furrows his brow in question. “Sawyer just said Richy’s order is all wrong. I’d guess that the orders got completely switched.”
A sly look falls on his face. “Bet I know where you’re headed next.”
“Yeah, your mom’s. Ain’t no secret.” A satisfied grin finds itself on my lips as I retort.
Clapping his hand on my back, Judd releases a forced performative huff. “Do that later. How about we go to Southern Sip?”
The thought of coffee and, let’s face it, the excuse to see Kaylee does sound like a good idea. But agreeing so easily to his claim instead of making light of it isn’t my style. “Thought I was the one interested in the blonde?”
“Thanks for finally admitting it.”
“Not admitting shit. But they sure do make a good cup of joe.”
“Uh huh, sure.” Judd waves toward his truck. “Well the chariot awaits, Princess. Let’s go see your girl.”
My girl? Fuck, that would be the day.
“Hey, Sage.” Judd answers his phone as we pull up to the shop. “Go on in, I’ll be there in a minute.” I get out of the truck and make my way past him as I hear him ask, “Is everything alright?”
As always, I’m greeted with a smile when I walk into the shop. The only problem is the smile I hope to see isn’t there.
“Good mornin’, ladies,” I greet once I reach the counter.
“Good morning.” Ginny smiles from behind the cash register. “Are we sticking with the Hoppin’ Hazelnut or are we trying something new?”
The door chimes, and I turn to see Judd still talking on his phone as he walks toward me. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll talk to you later.” He ends the call and looks up from his feet, meeting Ginny’s stare.
I look between the two, and while Ginny smiles shyly in his direction, he looks as if he’s seen a ghost. It wouldn’t take a genius to spot there’s something there. What that something is, I’m not sure, but definitely something.
“Uh, hey, Judd.” Ginny breaks the silence.
“Hey,” he replies gently. The man is never hushed, his voice always booming nearly as big as he is, but whatever is going on, it sure has my attention.
My eyes dart back and forth between the two of them, the silence starting to feel deafening in its intensity. I can’t help but shift under the discomfort of this moment.
I turn my body back toward the counter, deciding to end their torture for them. “I’m feelin’ wild today, Ginny. Let’s try somethin’ new.”
She breaks eye contact with Judd and forces her focus back to me, managing a strained, polite smile. “That sounds great. Do you have something in mind?”
“Surprise us,” I answer, glancing back at Judd, who looks to be already surprised enough.
She takes my money then hurries away from the counter, grabbing all sorts of different things to add to our drinks, topping each off with a bit of whipped cream before placing the lids on top. I watch as she writes on the side of each of the cups when Judd’s phone begins to ring again.
“It’s Richy, I’ll be outside.” His voice remains low, but this time it doesn’t come out hushed.
I nod, silently acknowledging him before he exits the store. The click of the cap from the marker closes behind me and I smile at Ginny before picking them both up. “Have a good one,” I say, watching her as she watches the door.
“You too. Hope you like cinnamon, if you don’t, his is coconut marshmallow.” Her eyes don’t return to mine, but I decide it’s best to mind my own business, so I don’t pry.
I grab both cups without saying another word and advance toward the door, using my body to push it open.
Judd’s pacing back and forth on the phone outside my truck, so I get in and start up the engine, and most importantly, the air conditioning.
I can’t remember for the life of me which coffee is which as I examine them in my hand.
A bit of black ink peaks out over the sleeve of one of the coffees.
Thank God she must have labeled them. I slide down the sleeve and in neat cursive writing it reads:
I’m sorry.
A slow whistle passes my lips. Well, one thing’s for sure. That message ain’t for me. Ginny and Judd must have some history. And if that situation back in the shop wasn’t answer enough, I’m guessing that history ain’t all good.