A loud crack of thunder wakes me up in the morning. Like Silas suggested it might, it’s pouring outside. The storm has rolled in. After last night, I don’t appreciate Mother Nature’s sense of humor or timing.

I’m alone in bed. Well, alone with Honeycrisp and Hank who have climbed on the covers sometime after Silas left for his farm duties. When I go to slide out of bed I almost step on Joe, who is curled up in a ball on the floor beside me. I apologize for almost squishing him and step into the bathroom.

A hard look in the mirror confirms the way my face feels. Pathetic and dried out. My eyes are still burning and bloodshot, and that ache in my ribs is still there. I know I got a decent amount of sleep, but I don’t feel like I slept at all. Still, I spent the rest of the night in a deep dreamless sleep, and it appears Silas and I were able to make it to the next day without accidentally assaulting each other in any way.

I use the bathroom, then wash and lotion my face. I don’t care what Silas has planned. I’m not going anywhere with him today. I’m too tired to pretend that I want to be around him, let alone that I decided to voluntarily date him. The kitchen served a perfectly fine work space. I’ll set up camp there for the day and catch up on work. I trick myself into thinking that there’s food in his fridge. I know I’ll have to call him or dig up a raincoat or a tarp and walk over to the cafe. I grab my phone off his dresser on my way to the kitchen. I stop when I see a note from Silas written on an old receipt under it.

There’s a breakfast burrito in the fridge and coffee on the counter. Back later. — S

I look at the note for a few seconds. I’m still mad at him. I have every right to be, but I can still appreciate food and coffee. When I see him again I’ll thank him for the food and beverages and then go back to pretending last night never happened. I walk into the kitchen and find a new one cup coffee maker on the counter with some instant coffee pods, two different flavored creamers and box of raw sugar packets. There's a note on the cabinet above.

I open the cabinet and find it jam packed with mugs. More mugs than should be shoved in a cabinet. I'm afraid to touch one because I know all five hundred of them will come tumbling out and smack me in the head or smash on the floor. I stand up on my tip toes and carefully grab an oversized mug from Starbucks Edinburgh. Under that there's a mug that says U-Hawaii Football. I look a little closer and it appears that all the mugs are emblazoned with something Scotland or New York Yankees. Further inspection turns up a New York Jets mug. I carefully pull that one out of the madness and rinse it out.

I look at my phone as my coffee brews. I’ve missed over a thousand messages in the chat app. No way I’m going through all that. Instead I call Brook. I might catch her before she goes into court.

“Hey! I was just about to text you,” she says.

“Where are you?” I can hear the sounds of the city around her and suddenly I’m so homesick. The McInroy farm is great and all, but I miss the noise and the crush of people.

“Outside of the courthouse.”

“Is it raining there?”

“No. Sun’s out and it’s already as hot as a full bag of dicks in a dick sauna. Is it raining where you are?”

“Uh, yeah a little bit.”

“I know, I know. I won’t ask. I’m just wondering.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know, but you’re rightfully paranoid. I snooped down at the D.A.’s office a bit yesterday. Your boy had mad priors, son,” she says in that voice that always makes me laugh. “Whatever… it sounds like you got a real piece of shit off the street. If that makes you feel any better.”

“It kind of does, but stop snooping, Brook. I don’t want you involved in this at all. Please. I only have one sister.”

“Okay!” she says defensively the way she does when I’m momming her too much, and then her tone softens. “But you’re okay, right?”

“I’m fine. I’m holed up in a nice place with a dude the size of a small building who has strict orders to keep an eye on me. I’m fine.”

“But you don’t know when you’re coming back?”

“Hopefully soon, like in a few days. I’m going to make some calls today and hopefully get some more info, and you’ll be the first to know.”

“Well just make sure you get your undercover justice before Claudia’s bachelorette weekend. We booked the spa packages. I mean, this is really important, Lizzie. You gotta be there. We’ll get you a prosthetic nose and chin. Some fake teeth. No one will know it’s you.”

I laugh a bit hysterically and open the microwave. The burrito inside is the size of my forearm, wrapped in foil and paper. BACON EGG CHEESE HASHBROWN is scrawled on the paper in black pencil. I touch it. It’s still warm. “I’ll definitely come out of hiding for that. Now that I know there are fake teeth on the table.”

“I miss you,” she says.

“I miss you too, Brookie. Text me when you’re done for the day. I’ll talk to you then.”

“Liz, wait!”

“Yeah?”

“This guy you’re with. How’s he look?”

“Busted.”

“Yeah?”

“Real busted. His face is all fucked up. Plus he’s old. He’s just large and scary looking, pretty sure he’s strapped. He owns a gas station. He’s definitely the right man to scare off any more repeat offenders.”

“Good. Love you.”

“Love you too.” I say my goodbye and hit end on the call. Then I text Scott.

I look up as I wait for his reply and I realize I’m not alone in the kitchen. All five dogs have joined me. Joe has somehow fallen asleep again, curled up in his old man ball in the corner under this old bread box stand, but Honeycrisp, Gala, Hank and Morty are just sitting there, like they are looking for some guidance.

“I’m not sure what you guys want from me, but I’m going to get my computer and enjoy this burrito and this coffee your actual owner picked up for me. You guys are on your own.” Since they are dogs, there’s no verbal response. Hank does sniff the side of Morty’s head though as my phone vibrates with Scott’s reply.

He adds a laughing emoji. For some reason, I don’t like that question. Or the emoji. Even though Silas talks plenty of shit about Scott whenever his name comes up. I text him back.

I don’t respond again to the light brown peace sign emoji he sends. I trust Scott, but something feels off. The smell of fresh coffee reminds me my breakfast and a mountain of work emails are waiting for me. I’ll have to worry about both sides of the McInroy brother coin another time.

* * *

I fall down another work hole. When Silas comes stomping through the back door, soaking in a rain slicker and boots, my whole body reminds me how long I’ve been sitting at the dining room table with no breaks. I can feel my joints and muscles screaming as I turn in the hard wooden chair. I can also feel the nerves tensing in my throat. I’d put him out of my mind for the morning, so far out of my mind that I’m not ready to see him standing there, looking back at me.

I hate how much of him I take in. How he looks like some hyper manly sea captain coming back to warn the townspeople about the storm on the horizon. I hate that my eyes track the drop of water that runs down the side of his face. I hate how he’s looking at me. He must hate it too because he coughs and looks away as soon as his eyes meet mine.

“Brought you lunch,” he says as he puts a plastic bag on the counter. Rainwater drips off the outside and onto the gray surface. I start to think about how soggy everything must be inside, but then the smells of warm food and yummy dessert washes over me. I almost close my eyes and moan. “I didn’t think to text you so I just got you tomato soup and a grilled cheese and some more pie. I hope that’s okay.”

I swallow and find my voice. “Yeah. Thanks. Perfect for a day like this.”

“Breakfast was okay?”

“Yeah it was great. Thank you. Do I need to feed them or anything?” I say, gesturing to the

dogs. All of five of them are still crowded around the kitchen floor.

“No. They just hate the thunder and lightning. I usually find them in a literal dog pile on days like this. They are just piled around you this time.”

“Oh okay.”

“I’m gonna—I’m going to take a—I’m gonna use the bathroom while I’m here.”

“’Kay.” I look away as he shakes out of his raincoat and drapes it on the chair across from me. Gala and Morty follow him out of the room. I try to focus back on the document on my screen and consider the true fun of labor disputes. Still, I can’t think at all with Silas in the house. He takes up so much space. He sucks all the air. I check my phone instead and sneak a look at the girls in our chat. Noa and Claudia are talking about Shep’s father and what actually constitutes treason. Not the light topics I was hoping for.

I hear Silas walking back toward the kitchen and think about how weird it would be for me to just get up and run upstairs to avoid talking to him before he heads out again, and before I can stand he’s there, blocking the door to the rest of the house. My options are the laundry room, the pantry and the backyard. He leans against the door jamb. He’s quiet for a minute, but I can’t ignore him forever.

“I wanted to uh—apologize for last night,” he says. His voices sounds more than a little unsure.

I look up at him. I sit back and my hand automatically goes to my earlobe. Being in the same room with him is awful. I have to do something with my hands.

“I’m sorry about the way I reacted. I uh—I wasn’t disgusted by you or anything.”

“Oh,” I say. “That’s… okay.”

“What I mean is. I was… embarrassed. That shit was embarrassing as hell. We’ll go with that. And I was definitely asleep. I was having a dream that you and I were fuck—having sex. I had a dream we were having sex and apparently I was trying to simulate the act in real life.” He punctuates his confession with a little thrusting motion of his fist. “I want you to know that I know how out of line it was for me to… touch you and to basically ejaculate on you. Is your head okay?”

“It’s fine now. Thank you.”

“Good. So… I know why I did what I did, even though that doesn’t excuse it, but you were awake when you kissed me. Is there any reason why you kissed me?”

“Is there a reason you’re still having wet dreams at what? Thirty-five?” I reply.

He stares at me for a minute and then his eyebrows drop like he’s finally worked something out. “This has nothing to do with why you’re here. This is deeper than that. This is old shit.”

“I’m not talking about this with you.” I grab my laptop and try to leave the room. He grips my arm, stopping me before I can squeeze by him.

“Please let go of me.”

His hand drops immediately. “Sorry.” I don’t move another inch. Mostly because he’s still blocking ninety-five percent of the doorway, but there’s this other part of me who is sick of running. Or maybe part of me is sick of people expecting me to be alone because of how I look and what I do for a living and how fucking good I am at it. Everything about me is too much and what kind of man wants a woman who is too much? I slipped. I made a mistake. I’m not going to pay for it though.

Silas lets out a deep breath and moves out of the way, but he’s not done talking.

“Listen. I’m basically a stranger. A stranger who clearly keeps fucking up, but sometimes it’s easier, shit, better, to unload on someone who knows nothing about you. Something happened last night. What’s going on?” he says. “Tell me.”

“Tell me why you’re single,” I reply.

“What?”

“Tell me why you’re single. Look at you. You’re built, you’re fine as hell. You own your own business. Everyone around here loves you. Surely there is some buxom school teacher in town somewhere looking for a man like you to build her artisanal furniture and bring her fresh pies. Why are you living in this giant house alone with nothing but five dogs to keep you company?”

“You know my brother the smooth ass sweet talker?” he says as he steps past me into the kitchen. “Well he got all the charm. He can talk his way into and out of anything, and I got the skill to actually show you what I’m made of.”

“And? A good work ethic is pretty damn attractive. You’re still not making sense. Try again.”

“You’re not the only person who thinks I’m a dick. Okay?”

I feel my brows pulling together in confusion. People around the farm seem to love him. He’s still not making any sense. “For some reason I don’t buy that.”

“Well it’s all I got for sale.” He lets out a sharp exhale then rolls his eyes. “I’m terrible with women. Farm patrons, my friends, my employees, no problem. I kill relationships before they even get started, so yeah it’s been awhile since I had a girlfriend. And I don’t have time to run around chasing hookers so I haven’t had sex in a while. What’s your excuse?” he asks, raising his voice.

I don’t know what I’m thinking when I respond to him. I’m just sick of his shit.

I explode.

“It’s funny you mention hookers. Sex work is an interesting trade. It really is work you know, but you learn a lot about other people. You learn a lot about yourself and you learn a lot about men. So after the ten years I spent as a professional dominatrix, while juggling law school and raising my sister, I did something silly. I told myself I wasn’t going to sleep with someone again until I felt myself falling in love. Who would have thought corporate law would do such a crippling number on my actual social life.

“Who thought it would almost get me killed,” I say with an empty laugh. He just stares at me for a second. But I’m not done. “So maybe, I don’t know, I was just so starved for male attention that my female lizard brain was having a hard time telling my body what was real and what was part of this ruse we have going on.”

“See?! I didn’t even know you were a prostitute and I managed to offend you.”

“Jesus Christ, Silas. Shut the fuck up! I just wanted to kiss you, okay? I’m sorry if I read the whole being humped awake thing wrong. Now if you’ll excuse me.” I try to make another break for it and he grabs my arm again, but this time he spins me around and then deftly slides my laptop out of my hands. He sets it on the table.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

He doesn’t respond. He just kisses me. Both of his massive hands cup my cheeks and his lips are on mine and this time we are both definitely awake. I hate how good it feels to kiss Silas. I hate that I want to stab him with something long and blunt, and at the same time I can feel the tears burning behind my eyes at the thought of this kiss going wrong. I know it won’t, because this kiss is perfect. Silas is right, he is terrible with women. First dates with him must be the most awkward hell, especially after he starts talking, but I know any woman who made it to the kissing portion of the evening would be struggling with the same emotions I’m trying to fight back when I feel myself sighing into his mouth.

I’m pathetic as one of his hands drops from my cheek and slides around my neck and down to my back. He gently pulls me closer and I open my mouth to him just enough to let his tongue slide against mine. This is the kiss I wanted the night before. The kiss I’ve been waiting for, even if it wasn’t from this man. This is the kiss I’m embarrassed to admit that after more than thirty-one years of hard living I’ve never experienced. Silas is right. Scott can talk his way into anything, but  Silas is all about the action.

He pulls away at the right moment, the smart moment, right before I start backing him toward the nearest sturdy surface or pull him toward the bedroom. My heart is pounding when I look up into his dark brown eyes. I want to touch his face, run my fingertips into what is now a full beard.

“This doesn’t mean I like you,” he says, punching the elephant in the room the way I’m learning he loves to do.

“I don’t like you at all.”

“Good. Good then.” He grabs his raincoat and tugs it on. Morty finds this interesting and walks over to Silas to investigate. “I—um, I’m gonna go back out to help feed the animals and then I’ll be back. On days like this we’re pretty shut down except for the cafe.”

“Okay. I’m not going anywhere,” I say as my fingers automatically go to my bottom lip.

“Okay. I’ll bring you dinner.”

“Okay.”

He turns to leave, then stops and turns back around. “Oh. Ginny and Maya are pissed that they still haven’t met you. They are threatening to come by with Monopoly tonight. I can tell them to fuck off.”

“No, actually that might be nice. I could use a break. I will definitely need a break by tonight and a board game might be the perfect distraction from their questions about my personal life. Harder to be nosy if we’re fighting over fake money.”

“Good call. Okay. Later.”

I watch him as he opens the back door and heads back into the storm.

* * *

Maya and I are kicking Ginny and Silas’s ass at Star Wars Monopoly. I haven’t played any version of this game since Brooklyn and I were little, but Ginny’s family rules were easy enough to pick up. As was her cutthroat spirit for the game. Too bad for her she had no idea what kind of sharks she was dealing with when she sat down at the table with me and her own wife.

After almost three large pizzas, a bunch of beers and bankrupting Silas twice, I come to the decision that I love Ginny and Maya. Of course Silas, who drives me nuts, would be best friends with one of the coolest interracial lesbian couples I’ve ever met. I don’t regret showering and putting on makeup for them at all. I may have put on the sundress I’d shoved in my bag during my packing frenzy for Silas. Maybe. He seems to like it anyway. Somehow I’ve ended up on his lap and, even though he’s focused on the argument Maya and Ginny are having about how mortgaging one of her ships will not save her from her financial problems, his hand has made itself comfortable on my upper thigh.

I’m having a normal physiology response. I’m in a complicated situation with a man who I am attracted to, a man who really knows how to kiss. It’s makes complete sense for me to be wet.

“Silas, it’s your go,” Ginny says after she hands over a wad of cash to Maya.

“Nope, I’m done.”

“What do you mean you’re done?” Maya asks.

“I mean I’m done. You just cleaned me out.” he says to me.

“Baby, wait your turn,” I reply. “You just roll a forty-eight on the next go and the bank can hand you just enough money to get you back in the game.”

“This is reverse racism, is what this is,” Ginny says, taking a swig from her beer.

“No, babe it’s reparations,” Maya says.

“Sure is,” I say laughing. Maya leans forward and high fives me.

“I’m only half White,” Silas says. “And my White half isn’t even American. I feel like I’m being unjustly persecuted.”

I almost ask Silas what the other half is, but I save myself from giving away a major clue that I really know nothing about Silas. Or Scott. We stopped at the brown part of Scott’s identity. He’s never told me a single thing about his family or his heritage. Not that it mattered beyond our solidarity in our very white office. Still, in this case, it’s fact I should know.

“Whatever, the Scottish owned slaves. Try again, bruh,” Maya laughs.

“And speaking of your best half. We FaceTimed with Iolana this morning,” Ginny says.

“Oh God. You narc’d me out, didn’t you?”

I don’t have a clue who Iolana is, but I keep that to myself too. Luckily Silas fills in the gap. He leans up and kisses me. “You’re gonna have to talk to my mom at some point.”

“Oh yeah?” I say, trying to keep my face neutral. We didn’t talk about meeting parents when we worked this all out. Scott, seriously, never even mentions his parents.

“Yeah, but not tonight,” Silas says before he turns back to Maya. “You two need to get out of my house.”

“Oh shit,” Ginny says as she glances at her smart watch. “It’s late. We have to go, babe.”

“Are you going to come by the cannery tomorrow, Ebie?” Maya asks as she stands.

“Um, sure,” I say, looking at Silas.

“I’ll bring her by. Don’t worry. You can introduce her to the wonderful world of jam and artisanal honey.”

“I do love honey,” I say as Silas gently moves me off his lap so he can stand.

“Great. If you’re still here when it stops raining we can go by the apiary,” Ginny says.

“Oh! You guys keep bees?” I can’t hide my excitement. During the Dorrit case, the science of all things bees was all that kept my interest during all the long nights.

“Sure do,” Maya says.

“Well hopefully this weather clears up soon.”

We say our goodbyes to his friends, then I help Silas clean up the kitchen table. “I really like

them,” I say as I put the few leftover beers in the fridge. It dawns on me then. For the first time in a long time, I’m kind of happy. I find myself smiling when I turn around to face Silas.

“They loved you, so now they are going to want to hang out with you the rest of the time you’re here.”

“They are better company than the dogs.”

“You hear that, Honey?” He squats down beside the half asleep puppy who parked it by our chairs a few hours ago. He makes a show of lifting up her ears. “She doesn’t like you either.”

“Hey, I never said that! I like Honeycrisp just fine and Joe doesn’t seem to be bothering anyone. The other three are just always staring at me.”

Silas stands and fixes me with a cold look. “Please use his given name. He’s lived too long to be reduced to just Joe.”

“I can’t believe you named your dog Joe Namath.”

“I didn’t.”

“Oh.”

“Enough about the dogs. I’m gonna get to my bed.”

“I suppose I’ll join you. Two head injuries in one week are enough to wear a girl out.”

“Huh?”

“I broke the guy’s nose with the back of my head.”

He whispers, “Fuck,” under his breath.

“Yeah. Good times. Let’s go to bed.”

“After you,” Silas moves out of the way so I can head down the hall. I hear the light switches flicking off in the kitchen behind me. Only Honeycrisp and Morty follow us to the bedroom. Honeycrisp hops up in her chair, probably waiting for us to get settled before she wiggles her way between us. Morty sits in the corner waiting for the next part of the evening to begin. Hopefully he won’t be staring at us while we sleep. I go over to my bag to grab my sleep shorts, and when I turn around Silas is standing on the other side of the bed holding a box of condoms and a small bottle of lube.

“I’m not trying to imply anything. And I know the boyfriend/girlfriend part of the night is over. We’re not pretending anymore,” he says. “But I figured it was better to be prepared just in case.”

“Just in case what?” I ask slowly. “Just in case we decide to do more than kiss?”

“Yeah,” he says. All that’s missing is the “DUH!” He tosses the condom and the lube in the center of the bed, like he’s throwing down the gauntlet. It’s one thing to ensure enthusiastic consent, but he really isn’t joking when he says he’s terrible with women. I’ve been with some awkward men in my life, both personally and professionally, and I’ve had some pretty strange propositions, but this is something special.

I sit on the edge of the bed and reach for the condoms and lube. The extra large condoms are definitely necessary, but I’m almost laughing at the thought of what I’m supposed to do with this tiny bottle of lube. Not that we’ll actually need it for what I think he has in mind. I’m still wet. I turn it over in my hand, then look up at Silas.

“I was dreaming that we were having sex last night too,” I admit.

“You were?”

“Do you want to have sex with me now, Silas?” I ask.

He stares at me blankly for a moment, like I just asked him a question that’s caught him off guard. I wonder if he forgets that he just tossed sex accessories in my direction. He blinks and then he responds.

“Yes. I do.”