Caleb
The problem with going public is that it turns out the public has opinions.
Tommy intercepts me before I've made it to the trailer, grinning like he's won the lottery. "Interesting morning?"
"Get back to work," I tell him, no real heat in it because he's not wrong.
The day proceeds with a level of barely contained crew amusement that would be annoying if I had any grounds to deny it. Rena, for her part, seems completely unbothered, moving through her inspections with the same focused competence she's shown since day one.
By midafternoon, the novelty's worn off enough that people stop shooting us significant looks. I'm reviewing plans in the trailer when she knocks, the sound sharp and professional despite the fact that I was inside her less than eight hours ago.
"Got your report," I say, not looking up, because if I look at her right now I'm going to remember this morning and that's not conducive to appropriate workplace behavior. "Looks good."
"I'm always thorough," she replies, and I hear the smile in her voice.
"No regrets?" I ask, needing to hear her answer.
"Not yet. Ask me again after we see how this plays out."
"And us?" I press. "How does this play out with us?"
Something vulnerable flickers across her face. "I don't know yet. I'm not good at this part. The part where it matters. Where walking away would actually hurt instead of just being inconvenient."
The honesty hits harder than anything else she could've said.
I stand, moving around the desk. "I'm not good at this either.
I'm good at work, at keeping things simple.
This isn't any of those things. But I'm done pretending it's not happening.
" I cup her face. "I want more than just last night.
I want to figure out what this is when we're not naked.
I want to take you to dinner and hear about your day. "
Her eyes go wide. "Caleb, that sounds a lot like dating."
"Yeah. It does."
"I don't date. I don't stay in places long enough for dating to make sense."
"Then maybe it's time to reconsider that policy," I say, leaning in until we're sharing air. "Because I'm asking anyway."
She's quiet, and I feel the war happening inside her. "One date," she finally says. "We'll try one and see how it goes."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," she confirms, and then she's kissing me, fierce and almost desperate, her hands fisting in my shirt.
A throat clears behind us. Tommy is in the doorway, looking absolutely delighted. "Sorry boss. City inspector's here for the foundation check."
I close my eyes, reining in frustration and arousal in roughly equal measure. "Tell him I'll be right there."
"So much for professional boundaries," Rena says, laughing, as she smooths her hair.
"We tried, it lasted almost six hours."
"New record," she quips. "You should be proud."
I catch her hand before she can leave. "Dinner tomorrow night. Somewhere that's not Kincaid's, somewhere we can talk without the whole town watching."
"You know that's impossible in Forge Creek."
"Then we'll drive somewhere else."
She studies my face for a long moment. "Okay. Tomorrow night. You pick the place."
That night, my phone buzzes with a text while I'm eating dinner alone at the counter.
Rena:
So are we going to talk about how Tommy definitely saw you adjusting yourself after that kiss?
Me:
Are we going to talk about how you're the reason I had to adjust myself?
Rena:
Fair point. I was also affected. Just better at hiding it.
Me:
Is that a skill you're proud of?
Rena:
Extremely. It's the only thing keeping this operation professional.
Me:
We are the least professional professionals in Forge Creek.
Rena:
Speak for yourself. I have never once adjusted myself in front of a city inspector.
Rena:
There's going to be future reference?
I stare at that question, feeling the weight of it.
Me:
Yeah. There's definitely going to be future reference.
Rena:
Good. Because I'm apparently incapable of keeping my hands off you and it would be nice if that was mutual.
Me:
Very mutual. To a concerning degree.
There's a pause, longer this time.
Rena:
I'm thinking about you right now. About this morning. About tomorrow night and what comes after. I'm terrified and excited in equal measure. Usually I'm just terrified and then I run.
Me:
You're not running.
Rena:
Not yet. Ask me again tomorrow.
Me:
I will. And the day after that. And every day until you believe I'm not going anywhere even if you get scared.
Rena:
You're very good at making me believe things might be different this time.
I stare at that message for a long time, feeling the weight of what she's trusting me with.
Me:
They will be. I promise.
Rena:
Don't make promises you can't keep, Wyatt.
Me:
I don't. Sleep well, Rena.
I set the phone down and lean back against the counter, feeling something deep in my chest that's been restless for longer than I care to admit.
This is real. This matters.
Tomorrow night, I'm going to show her exactly how much.