Sass

by Laramie Briscoe

  She does, and I turn towards the grill, checking the heat, welcoming the break I have from the way her body looks and the way her eyes stare at me. They see absolutely everything, and it unnerves me in a way I can’t explain. I’m being laid out bare, and this isn’t what I’m used to, someone who pays attention to me like this.

  Sass

  Reed is killing me. It’s like he knew exactly what I loved about what he was wearing today and decided to go in for the kill tonight. I cross my legs as I have a seat at the outdoor table, welcoming the way the ceiling fans move the air around me. It’s feels almost as if it’s caressing my skin, and I can’t help but notice the tension between Reed and me. It’s been there before, at least on my part, but I’ve never noticed it from him. Something has changed with him, and I’m not sure what, but I like it. I have hope maybe in the end this won’t be one-sided, but I try to tell myself not to ruin this before it starts. To take this as it comes and not force anything, but my heart is having a hard time telling my brain that. After all, my heart has been involved in this for at least ten years.

  “You cook for women often?” I flirt, flashing him what I’ve been informed is my best smile.

  When I was a waitress, this particular smile won me the best tips. Those tips put me through school and gave me spending money while I was in college. I was damn good at my job, and I can flirt with the best of them.

  “Only for you, Sass.” He turns around, winking at me, before turning back towards the grill. “How do you want your steak?”

  Telling myself not to look too far into the comment about him only cooking for me, I do my best to answer in a voice that’s normal and not the voice of a teenager at a One Direction concert.

  “Dead,” I quip. “Unlike you.”

  “Hey,” he argues. “The taste when it’s still pink in the center is mouthwatering.”

  “Pink? That thing is still like living on your plate when you eat it. I’m surprised it’s not breathing.”

  He laughs, and it’s a sound I haven’t heard much of in the last few months. It makes my heart happy. I want to make him laugh more often; I want to make him enjoy himself. I want to make him enjoy me.

  I decide in that moment I want to be the reason he smiles—and damn anyone who stands in my way. It doesn’t matter how hard it is, it doesn’t matter how much it might hurt me. I want to be his reason—fuck it—I will be his reason.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Sass

  I’m looking for a distraction, and this is the first time I’ve seen his outdoor kitchen. I’ve obviously heard him talk about it as he was building it, because he’d been so excited about it. His anxious rambling about it, though, was nothing compared to what it looks like in person. It’s going to be perfect as we get deeper into the summer. This will be the perfect place for the group of us to have cookouts and hang out together. We haven’t done that in a long time because Lacey didn’t like us hanging around. That should have been his first clue she wasn’t for him. The cool breeze off of his pool is being distributed by the overhead ceiling fans, and I lift my face up, welcoming the chill. I need something to cool me down before I disintegrate into a pile of mush right here.

  No other man has ever cooked for me, and seeing him do it warms a spot in my heart. Would this be what our nights were like if we were together permanently? He’d come home from work, I’d come home from work, and we’d congregate out here. He’d cook dinner, I’d do the dishes, and then we could either end up in the pool or in the living room on the couch, Netflix and chilling? I feel goosebumps on my skin thinking about it. I wonder if I’m putting the cart before the horse, so to speak, but I can’t help it. The thoughts wonder in, they grow root, and they take hold.

  If I had cooked in my apartment, the paramedics would be there right now, treating me for a heat stroke, and I’m more than appreciative he took my suggestion to let me come over. He didn’t realize it would give me more daydream material.

  “This is really beautiful, Reed.” I appreciate the hard work he’s done. He takes pride in his work, and so many times no one tells him how it looks. They either give him a token “it looks great”, or they pay him the money for the job. By all accounts that should be enough, but when you’re a craftsman like Reed, I know he appreciates the words way more than the actions. Sometimes, I feel like he’s the teenager I first knew, searching for approval he’s never going to get. That’s another thing too; I want to be his cheerleader, I want to be the person who tells him what an amazing job he’s done. I don’t ever want him to question whether he’s good enough or not. Because he’s one of the best.

  “Thanks.” He flashes me a pleased look, appreciation in his eyes that I’ve taken the time to do that. “I laid all the stonework myself too.” He indicates the outdoor kitchen. From what I can see, it has a grill, a countertop stove, a fridge, a freezer, and a drink station.

  “You’re talented. Way more talented than any of us give you credit for.” I praise him because he deserves it, and I’m not sure any of us have ever done that for him. Sure, we all know he works hard, but he’s kind of an artist too, and I know that personally I never noticed it. I bet none of our other friends have either.

  The only pieces of stainless steel equipment are the grill and a refrigerator. “Have you always wanted one of these?” I ask, because I know I’ve always wanted an outdoor kitchen. I hate cooking in the heat, but I’ve never had the space, money, or a guy who would help me build it. While I can do lots of things on my own, building a space like this isn’t one of them.

  He nods. “It gets so hot in houses, even with air conditioning down here in the summer. If you don’t have a good air conditioner, it puts so much strain on it. This is a build I’ve wanted to do a long time. Plus,” he adds, “I like grilled meat and vegetables. I have to make sure I’m in shape. My job is physically demanding, and if I’m not, I pay the price.”

  I take a look at his strong back through the thin shirt he’s wearing and can tell he’s a guy who spends time building up those muscles. They aren’t huge, but they aren’t small. They are well conditioned and very well proportioned to his body. He’s not a muscle head, but he could carry me around if he needed to. Preferably to bed. I clear my throat.

  “That’s something I need to do.” I stretch my legs out in front of me, putting my feet in the chair beside me. I make sure nothing is showing in the dress I’m wearing. “I was much more active as a waitress. Now I push a ton of paper and sit behind a desk. Things aren’t as tight as they used to be.” I smirk.

  He turns around and runs his eyes over my bare legs. “You look mighty fine to me.”

  The deep timbre of his voice causes goosebumps to pop up on my body. It’s a tone of voice he’s never used with me before, and I can’t help but want to put it in my pocket and hold it for later. It’s the tone of voice I’ve heard him use when he’s trying to seduce a woman. I haven’t heard it in a long time, but I distinctly remember it from his and Justin’s early years. My heart beats wildly in my chest. I’ve never in my life believed he would see me this way, but there’s no mistaking the genuine interest in his gaze.

  “Thanks.” I give him a smile. “I need to start running again, but I haven’t since high school. I’ve noticed my knees and legs snap, crackle, and pop when I do certain stuff on job sites. I need to take my conditioning more seriously.”

  “You were pretty kick-ass on that cross country team, though.”

  I can’t believe he remembers; it’s so long ago, and I never thought he paid attention.

  “I was a cheerleader for my mama; I ran for myself. There’s something about setting a pace and hearing your feet hit the pavement, or the dirt, or whatever. It’s a control type thing. I control the pace, and I choose if I pick it up. It’s almost therapeutic in a way.”

  I haven’t paid attention to the fact he’s done with the steaks, plating them both up with baked potatoes and it looks like grilled asparagus. “You wanna grab some beers?” he asks as he
puts the plates on the table.

  “Sure, they over here?” I indicate the outside fridge.

  “Yeah, dessert’s in there too, if you wanna take a look.”

  Now I’m curious. What kind of dessert could he have gotten? I have an extensive sweet tooth, so I’ll be good with whatever, as long as pineapple isn’t in it. Opening the door, I grab out the first two beers in the front, and then my eye catches it. It’s a strawberry pie from the diner in town, and I want to marry this man right here, right now. “You got one?” I ask, my eyes wide.

  Those pies are such a hot commodity you have to be there at opening, and it’s a rare day I can get up, at ’em, and be somewhere at five in the morning.

  “Yeah.” He grins. “Nell,” he mentions the name of the well-beloved cook, “kind of owed me a favor. I did some work on her house for free last year. Anytime I call and ask for a special order, she gets it to me.”

  “Well I’m excited.” I grin as I sit down at the table and grab the Heinz 57 he’s placed in front of me. I’m amazed at all the little nuances of mine he’s noticed, and I try not to let my pulse skip when he refers to “something special” being the pie I know is just for me.

  “I am too,” he answers, and I can’t help but believe he means it.

  “It’s been a long time since somebody cooked for me, so I’m gonna enjoy this.”

  My steak is sufficiently burnt, but it’s still able to be chewed, and I’m pretty sure this man is the most perfect man in the world for me. I’m going to have to hang on to the heart that’s currently trying to beat itself out of my chest. I’m going to have to be strong and realize this isn’t for real.

  Then he smiles at me from across the table before he takes a drink of his beer.

  And I know it.

  I’m dead.

  He’s got me.

  I’ve got control of nothing.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Reed

  Today has been a shit day; nothing has gone according to plan. I haven’t talked to Sass in the three days since she had dinner at the house, and it’s put me in a foul mood. I don’t even want to examine why it does, but I’m ready to bite someone’s head off, chew it up, and spit it out. We’ve both been incredibly busy. I’ve been in meetings with a new developer who wants my company to oversee the builds of ten houses in a new planned community subdivision that’s going to require me to hire ten more workers. It’s stressful, and I’m hoping like hell I can afford it and it doesn’t put me out of business. But I know I have to take a chance in order to make my business grow.

  It’s hard to know what’s good business and a great opportunity compared to what will be the decision that leads us to ruin. That’s a lot of pressure. I have a crew of guys who depend on me for their livelihood. They need me to put their kids through school, make their mortgage payment, or take family vacation. Sometimes that pressure is too much to bear. It weighs on me, and when I can feel the tension in my shoulders and back, I know I need a release. Right now that fucking tension is creeping up my shoulders. It’s got to give, or it’s going to break me.

  Straight Edge is elbows deep, literally, in finishing up the landscaping on a new community center opening for the county. The ribbon cutting is today, and Sass sent me a picture of her planting flowers yesterday. They’ve even pulled in their mom to help.

  My mood is fucking foul. It’s been a hot one, I worked my ass off, and I seriously want to be at home, in my pool, swimming away this frustration. Instead, my truck is almost out of gas, and I’m sitting in a line three deep at the local convenience store, waiting to fill up. I’m beyond irritated when I finally pull up to the pump and get out so I can get this chore over with and go home.

  “Hey, hot stuff.”

  I grin, because Sass’ voice is on the other side of the pump.

  Putting the nozzle into my truck and turning the pump on, I fix it so that it automatically runs and then step over the concrete curb, positioning myself to see the person speaking to me. “Hey, yourself.” I get a good look at her.

  Her hair is falling down from a ponytail, her shirt and cut-off shorts have obviously seen better days. They are covered in dirt, her legs have traces of dirt on them, and there’s even a smudge on her face. “Rough day?” I ask. I get the feeling maybe she’s had one like mine.

  “The worst.” She puts her aviator sunglasses on the top of her head, and I can see her eyes are red-rimmed; she’s obviously been crying.

  This is where I should act the part of a concerned boyfriend, but there is no acting. Something is wrong with her, and it scares the fuck outta me. “Whose ass do I have to kick?” It strikes me hard in the chest that I mean it. Nobody is going to make her upset on my watch.

  She laughs, rolling her eyes, but it brings about a fresh wave of wetness, because tears escape the corners and roll down her cheeks. Sass bites her lip and then lifts the side of her mouth up, flashing her white teeth. “It’s stupid.”

  The tears are in her voice, and this is so foreign to me. Sass is the strongest woman I’ve ever met. My pump cuts off, and I look behind me, seeing the cars are still three deep, but fuck that. I step closer to her and grab her up into a hug. She digs her fingers into my arms as she holds tightly. I tighten mine around her, lifting her slightly off the ground with the force of the hug. Wetness comes through my shirt, and suddenly a car horn honks, breaking the moment we have. My rage wants to kill the fucker, but my concern for her trumps my rage.

  “Nothing that’s got you this upset is stupid. I don’t know about you, but I was thinking a swim in my pool would cure all the aches and pains of the day. Both physical and emotional.” I cup her cheeks and use my thumbs to brush some of the wetness off her face. I can’t help it, seeing her bare like this is killing me. “Come over.”

  “I don’t know.” She grabs her hair from behind her back and starts braiding it.

  It’s a nervous gesture she’s had since she was a kid. It breaks my heart as much as the tears do. I don’t want her to be nervous around me; I don’t want her to feel like she has to hold her emotions in. Maybe this was a way I could have been there for Lacey more, and I don’t want to fuck this up with Sass. It doesn’t escape me I’m thinking long-term. I’m thinking about how to improve on the mistakes I made in my last relationship. I can’t stop to examine that right now. She needs me, and I want to be there for her in a way I haven’t been there for other women.

  Maybe that’s what makes her different. She’s my friend, and she’s been my friend for so long I immediately care about her feelings. I shake my head, because I don’t know when I turned into my own shrink.

  “Go home, grab some clothes and a swimsuit, take a shower, and come over.” My voice is more forceful than I’ve ever used with her.

  She sticks her hands into the pockets of her cut-offs and rocks back onto her heels. “I don’t want to ruin your evening.”

  “Fuck that noise.” I shake my head. “You’ll make it better.”

  The car horn honks again, and I raise my hand to flip them off, not turning to look at them. Not caring what they want. Nothing is more important than what I’m doing right here, right now, and I want her to believe that. They can move to another fucking pump if they’re in that damn big of a hurry. This is way more important to me. “Go ahead and say yes so we can let this douchebag have this gas pump. I’m not leaving until you give me the answer I want to hear.”

  Our eyes meet and she giggles. “Okay,” she relents. “Do you want me to bring dinner?”

  My stomach growls, and for the first time I realize how fucking hungry I am. “I’ll pick up Chinese, is that good?”

  “Yeah.” She nods. “You know what I like.”

  We break apart, and she finishes her gas purchase, grabbing her receipt. Leaning up on her tiptoes, she brushes a kiss so soft I barely feel it against my lips. “Thanks for knowing what I need, Reed,” she whispers before getting into her car.

  She drives off, her taillights bright in the early eve
ning light, and the asshole who’s been honking at us pulls in and gets out. I level him with the stare I use when people are jerking me around with prices on materials, and he backs off. Stepping back over the concrete curb, I grab my own receipt and hop into my truck. After everything shitty that’s gone on today, my night is definitely looking up.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Reed

  Sitting across from Sass, I give her a thorough once-over, making sure she’s okay. Since she was a kid, I haven’t been able to stand the tears. That was the main reason I stayed with her on the night of her dad’s death, to make sure she was fine. I’ve never been completely fond of heights, but knowing that Justin had to take care of their mom, I knew someone had to take care of Sass, and I had known exactly where she would be. There’ve never been many people in my life for whom I would set aside my fear of heights, but Sass is one of them. Those are feelings I’m not sure I can examine right now, or that I even want to. Just thinking of them leaves me feeling open and exposed in a way I never have been before.

  We sit outside, at the table in the outdoor kitchen. I can breathe easier here. I don’t feel so cooped up, and the scenery calms me. The quiet gives me a peace I don’t have anywhere else, and I realize sitting here enjoying it all with Sass makes me happier than I’ve been in a long time.

  Looking at her, I can still see the faded tracks of her tears, even though she’s showered. I think she may have cried more on her way over, and probably in the shower too. She’s always been a shower crier—hoping no one can hear her as she lets the water cleanse her soul. I remember hearing her for months after her dad died when I would stick around the house to help Justin. It broke my heart then, and it breaks my heart now.

  I wish she would let me in and let me help soothe her on days like today. There’s no reason she should be upset about anything.