Two things in my life are guaranteed: 1. I can always count on Landon Montgomery, and 2. Landon’s ability to burn toast. Not just burn toast but annihilate toast. I don’t so much mind the waste of bread, it’s his after all, but the smell is not how I want to be woken up each day. Landon works for his dad’s heating and air-conditioning company, and a few months back they signed on with the school district for a major upgrade to the HVAC systems in the schools. It’s been great for his bank account but sucked for me. I used to be up and out of the house before him and didn’t often fall victim to the awful burning smell of his toast. Now, that’s not the case. He’s up before I am and not only burning toast but singing and dancing around the kitchen. Two more things I could live without.
“Morning, sunshine! Want some toast?”
My response is nothing more than a grunt. I might as well go full caveman and scratch my balls and smack my chest in response. I replace the coffee pod in the machine before placing my travel mug under the spout, allowing the smell of coffee to overtake that of burned toast. Once the last few drops splash in the cup, I lift the goodness to my nose and inhale. Damn, that’s good. Plain black for me, I don’t have time for cream nor do I need it. After two sips, I feel more like myself and as if I can start my day.
“Didya go out last night?”
I grab a banana from the counter and walk over to the table, taking the seat across from Landon. I don’t respond immediately. I don’t have anything to hide, but for some reason I hesitate to tell him I was at Minnie’s house and then came home and watched some television before reading a book. Not like a book with a story but a book on home brewing and expanding a home production into something more, let’s not get too excited. The more I learn about the brewing process, the more I enjoy it. I’m good at construction and building, but it’s something about the brewing process that I really enjoy.
“Nah, I was at my dad’s for the game and then just hung out here. What were you up to?”
“Dinner with my folks, Mom made her chicken and dumplings, and then I worked a little in the shop.”
“Chicken and dumplings? Dude, it was like ninety degrees yesterday.”
“Benefits of my dad having an HVAC company, central air. Mom even baked a pie yesterday.”
I slide my chair back with a loud scrape on the floor before opening the refrigerator door. Sitting on the top shelf is a plastic container with my name written on a sticky note. Landon chuckles behind me as I lift the lid of the container and inhale the goodness that is Mrs. Montgomery’s homemade blueberry pie.
“There’s vanilla bean in the freezer, too. She said if you bothered to come over for dinner anymore, she’d make you a cherry pie. I swear my mom loves you more than me half the time.”
“Of course, she does, I’m irresistible.”
“Whatever. Anyway, she said to remind you there’s always a seat for you at the table and that it would be nice to see you at church on Sunday and supper after.”
Before replacing the lid on the container, I allow myself one more sniff. Since I’m in the refrigerator, I grab two hard-boiled eggs and return to my seat at the table. I start to tap the egg on the table to crack it when I realize I don’t have a paper towel. I quickly snatch Landon’s from his side of the table and begin working on my eggs.
“We’ll see. You know going to church isn’t my thing.” I take a large bite of an egg, effectively lobbing the conversation to Landon. I hate talking about how disappointed his mom is with my lack of church attendance the last few years.
“I told her, but she still seemed disappointed. See, she loves you more.”
We both laugh and finish our breakfasts. I stand to make another cup of coffee while Landon pulls his lunch from the refrigerator. “Oh, and she said there’s some new girl attending that she wants me to meet. Of course, my dad told her to mind her business and not play cupid but my mom doesn’t exactly listen to my dad. So, looks like she’s going to try and set me up with a gal from church.”
“Well, if there’s a chance of you looking like a schmuck, I’m there. What’s for dinner on Sunday?”
“Dad had a good haul fishing last weekend; I think they’re planning a fry. Hell if I know. Once my mom finds out you’re coming, she may decide to recreate Thanksgiving.”
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch. But tell me, however will you impress dear old church lady to be your one and only?” I tease. Mrs. Montgomery means well, but if her setup attempts are any indication, it’s going to be a long day for Landon and a fantastic day for me.
“Kiss my ass. I’ll see ya later. Oh, and the cable bill came in. Maybe lay off the porn? I think you get enough ass you shouldn’t be buying that shit.”
The door closes before I can offer a smart-ass response. I haven’t bought any porn. Lately. I reach for the stack of mail and pull out the cable bill. Fucker, there’s no porn. He’s so full of shit. I grab my phone and shoot off a text of a few choice emoticons, to which he sends back a laughing face. Jerk.
After another half a cup of coffee, I finally feel awake enough to get my day going. Today I’m working at Mr. Kaplan’s house on the far side of town. He’s been teasing us with small projects over the last year. The Kaplans live in an old Victorian-style home that needs a lot of updating. I’m hoping to talk to Mr. Kaplan about the updates I think will work for their house and really bring added value to the home.
From the note on the counter it looks like that conversation will have to wait; the Kaplans have taken an impromptu trip to visit their daughter and grandchildren. That’s excellent news for me. I told Jameson I didn’t need a crew this week since I’m working in a smaller space and he agreed as long as I didn’t fall behind schedule. The upside to no crew and no homeowners? Nobody to complain about my music.
City ordinances require I wait until eight before I can make too much noise, so I use the hour I have to clean up some debris and pull out my tools and set up. The minute my alarm signals the go ahead for power tools, I start my music and get to work. I’m able to completely lose myself in the task and the music. Hours tick by and before I know it, it’s lunch time. Since I don’t want to leave the house unattended, I just call and order a pizza.
After a few slices of pizza and a lot of water, I head outside to run the saw. The afternoon sun is blazing and I find myself wishing the Kaplans had a pool and a cooler full of cold beer. Working in the summer blows. Not being able to stand it anymore, I strip off my shirt and walk over to the hose, letting it run for a few minutes to cool the water. Bending over, I let the cool water run over my head. After turning off the spout, I stand and run my hands over my hair and appreciate the few seconds that I’ve cooled when I hear a voice behind me. I can’t make out what’s said but I’m pretty sure it is something along the lines of “Adonis” and a dragged-out “fuck.”
I turn my head to find Minnesota Walker standing there in all her glory. Wearing another one of those tight-as-a-second-skin skirts and a sleeveless top, her gaze is focused on my abs and I figure why not give her a show and twist my waist. A small move that I know shifts my shorts and shows her just how much physical labor I do each day.
“Minnesota,” I say, my voice deeper than usual. I gaze across her body. The temperature is pushing one hundred degrees and I can see her skin pinkening from the sun and the swells of her breasts glistening from a sheen of sweat.
“Huh, what?”
“Can I help you with something?” I begin walking back to where my phone is blasting music and press pause.
“Cake?”
“Nah, I’m good, thanks. I could go for an ice cream cone though. You have one of those with you?” I tease. I know she’s talking about my music, but I can’t help but poke fun at her a little. She hesitates a minute before making a weird face, an attempt to show her annoyance with me. And just like that, the flustered Minnie is replaced by the all-business Minnie.
“The music you were playing. I figured you were like Jameson and a country fan.”
“I like all music, but I’m a fan of nineties alternative. How about you?” I contemplate putting my shirt on but opt to leave it off. She’s on my turf and she can deal with it.
“I like it all, too. Personally, I was more into nineties pop but I’ll listen to most anything.”
“Pop? Like Britney and shit?”
Minnie rolls her eyes in response and extends her arm toward me. I notice the papers in her hand for the first time and grab them from her. I sort through them for a minute and notice they’re invoices.
“What are these?”
“I need you to sign off so I can pay them.”
“I think you’re mistaken, Minnesota. I mean, if you wanted to come hang out with me on a job site, all you had to do was ask.” My tone is flirtatious and even I can hear the gravelly undertone of my voice. It’s usually the tone I save for the ladies before I pull their panties off, but with Minnie, it seems a little too natural even in the daylight.
“Whatever. Look, Jameson had to go somewhere,” she says dismissively. “Who even knows where he is and I have an appointment for Arizona this afternoon. He said if I needed something and he wasn’t around to see you. I tried calling to having you come by the office but you didn’t answer.”
Minnie motions toward where my phone is sitting. I reach over and tap the screen. Sure enough, I have three missed calls. Pulling up the call history, I see that two are from the office and a third a cell phone
“Is this your cell number?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah, I figured maybe something was wrong with the office phone or something since you weren’t answering.”
“Nah, I accidently turned off my ringer. Sorry about that. J said for you to have me sign off on these? Really?”
“Yeah, you are the foreman after all. It’s pretty standard. Would you mind? I only have about an hour before I have to leave and I’d like to get these done.”
“One sec,” I say while pulling up her cell number from my call log and saving the number to my contacts. I also shoot her a text that says, “In case you have more door issues.” With a happy face emoticon. Which I quickly delete because that’s a fucking chick move.
Her phone signals a text and she looks at it. The confusion on her face makes me laugh as I grab my water bottle and take a long drink.
“Got a pen?”
“Why’d you text me?” Minnie hands me a pen and I skim the invoices as I initial the approved stamp.
“So you’d have my number, obviously. Here ya go.”
“I have your number, Owen. That’s how I called you.”
“Yeah but that was for work shit. This is in case you need me for anything else. I do mean anything.”
Minnie starts laughing. Not just giggles and a sweet chick laugh. No, she’s snorting and doubled over with tears in her eyes. What the fuck?
“What’s so funny?” My curiosity is genuine.
“You. Are you flirting with me?”
“What if I was? Would that be so bad? You’re new to town, I’m not seeing anyone.”
“First, if that’s how you meet ‘ladies’ and please, note the air quotes, then that’s your first problem. Second, I don’t date men from work anymore. Thanks for this. And, uh, I guess your number. I’ve gotta go.”
Before I can offer a response or ask what she means by “anymore,” she’s in her car and pulling out of the driveway. I stand there for a few minutes. No music, no tools, just the sounds of the afternoon. Kids are playing in the distance; I hear the occasional splash of a pool, and a dog is barking next door. Simple neighborhood sounds, and for a minute I wonder if the Kaplans would want to sell this place.
I push play on my music, and as the beats of the next song start drowning out the neighborhood sounds, I think of Minnie Walker and wonder exactly what her story is. She is obviously hot as hell but I think she’s more than that. Beyond those long tan legs, tight ass, and piercing blue eyes is a story. Who’s the dick she was dating before that made it so I can’t even flirt with her without being shot down? But she’s right, I probably shouldn’t cross that line. The last thing Jameson needs is for me to fuck and run off the office manager. But, a guy can dream.