Jack

Curtains are the first thing I see when I arrive to paint. I’m working on Wyatt’s hardware store today, and sheer, white-lace curtains have appeared in all the downstairs windows of Ember’s place.

It’s possible she’d already planned this addition to her interior design, but I can’t help thinking it has something to do with me. And I don’t like it.

Light blue paint, up and down.

It’s hotter than it was two days ago. My muscles have adjusted to the manual labor, and even though I’m using sunscreen and working early in the day, my skin is darker.

All three balconies have shutters, which are painted black. Betty and Wyatt’s second floors are dusty and full of boxes and old fixtures—something you can’t see from the street. Ember’s windows are open. I’ll start there tomorrow.

Light blue.

Up and down.

Sweat runs down my cheek, and my thoughts drift between my unfinished business here and the unfinished business I left behind.

First one, then the other.

Up and down.

Waves on the ocean.

Yesterday afternoon, I walked down to the little cove just outside of town. It’s between here and the developed coastline of Oceanside Beach, not too far to walk or ride a bike.

Thick pine trees surround it and narrow creeks cut through the landscape. A few little footbridges are dotted around, but you have to be careful. They’re old and can break without warning. The terrain keeps it from being interesting to real estate guys like my dad, but it’s as beautiful as any other spot in this area.

It’s where I used to take her.

Desire pulls in my chest when I remember those days. Being there felt like we were the only two people on Earth, and we acted like it. Pausing in my brush stroke, I glance down at her shop remembering all the public decency laws we broke on that little secluded stretch of beach.

Last night, I couldn’t sleep. I walked up the path and stood in the street in front of these buildings. Her windows were open, and standing there, in the moonlight, I imagined how it used to be when I would come for her at night.

I’ve only been aware of her presence a few days, but I’ve noticed she’s always alone. No other cars are parked around her building. It’s only her and her daughter.

Light blue.

Up and down.

I’m at the end of Wyatt’s building. I’ve done both floors, upstairs and down. All that’s left are the shutters, but it’s late. I’m ahead of schedule and hungry as a horse. André has been keeping me fed since I met him, and I try a new sandwich every meal. Yesterday I tried the turkey, apple, and Brie, and when I said I didn’t like it, he was pissed. I tried to explain I’m not much of a Brie fan, but…

Laughing to myself, I climb down through the steel bars. When I drop to my feet, I almost shout. Ember is standing right in front of me holding a large pink box.

“Oh!” She almost falls, jerking to avoid me.

“Hey!” I reach out and catch her arm. “Were you trying to sneak past me?”

“Of course not. I didn’t even know you were still here.” Her cute little chin lifts and she tries to look superior.

I’ve seen her mother do this before, but it’s all wrong on Ember. It makes me laugh, a scratchy rough-voiced noise from working in the heat and not speaking all day.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t have come out if you’d thought I was still here?” Placing one hand on the wall of her building, I lean closer, inhaling lavender and cedar.

“What are you doing?” A slight tremble is in her voice.

Do I affect her as much as she does me? Are her panties wet?

“I’ll start on your place tomorrow,” I say. “Early.”

Her slender throat moves as she swallows. “Should I stay away until you’re finished?”

“You don’t have to. It doesn’t seem like you have a lot of customers.”

“I have customers.”

“Sorry.” Straightening, I lower my arm and step back. “I only meant the scaffolding shouldn’t be in your way. You’re free to work or do whatever you need to do.”

She nods and takes a wide path around me. “Thanks for letting me know.”

I watch a moment as she continues up the walk, her round ass swaying in those cutoffs, her long dark waves swishing down the back of her white shirt. It’s so much like something she would’ve worn in high school. Her top has little flowers on it…

“Ember,” I call out.

She stops, but she doesn’t turn around immediately. I jog the few steps to where she stands between Wyatt’s and Betty’s buildings. Her teeth are clenched, and I can tell she’s doing her best to be stern.

“I’d like to talk to you. We need to talk.” Looking down, I survey my sweaty clothes, the paint on the back of my knuckles. “I’m kind of a mess right now. Would you have dinner with me?”

“Tonight?” Her beautiful brown eyes blink wide, and I can see the caramel flecks in her irises.

“Or tomorrow?” I smile, hoping to ease the tension. “It’s Friday. Date night.”

Again, her brow lowers. “I have a date tomorrow night.”

Now it’s my turn to frown. “With who?”

“None of your business,” she snaps, starting to walk again. I step in front of her, blocking her path.

“Hey—I’m sorry.” My tone is gentler. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I think you did. But even if you didn’t, I wouldn’t go out with you. Not if you were the last man on Earth.”

She tries to step around me, but I catch her shoulders to stop her. “Why not?”

“You know why not. Now let me go, Jackson Cane.”

“I can’t do that.” Sliding my hands off her shoulders, I drop my chin. “I thought I could, but I can’t.”

Fire simmers in her eyes. “Is that so? So you came back thinking I’d be sitting here waiting for you?”

“No—I didn’t…”

“That’s right. I’m not. I have more important things than you in my life. You can keep on driving for all I care.”

She pushes past me and goes into the poboy shop. I fall against the side of the building then swear. Light blue is all up the side of my back, and I’ve fucked up the paint on the hardware store… among other things.