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Familiar with the sensation, I pulled on a sweatshirt and my sneakers and went outside to sit on my lawn chair. Dawn was coming to the forest. The birds were waking up and singing, hopping across the underbrush and flitting through the trees. Light was beginning to saturate the horizon.
I drifted off finally in the chair. I had time for one dream, and thankfully, it wasn’t about the restaurant. I found Lincoln in our old chemistry classroom back in high school. He looked as he did now, complete with the buzz cut and injured leg. I was my old awkward teenaged self, but he didn’t care. We danced around the room, neatly avoiding the islands with their Bunsen burners.
Before I knew it, daylight filtered into my subconscious mind, waking me from the brief, yet much-needed rest. I yawned and stretched, then realized that I might be late. Checking my phone, I relaxed again. It was Saturday. I didn’t have to be in the office until eleven. It was nine thirty, which meant I had gotten almost five hours of sleep. That was pretty good for me.
I climbed off the chair, moseying inside to make myself some coffee. After a shower, I combed my hair out, deciding to let it air dry instead of fussing with the blow dryer. I still ate cereal for breakfast, even though I was an adult. I liked the sugary chocolate puffs with the cartoons on the box. I didn’t know why, but it made me happy.
I poured myself a bowl and sat down to eat, considering last night’s kiss. It hadn’t been entirely unexpected but I couldn’t believe it happened. For more than a decade, I had wondered what it would be like to make out with Lincoln Matthews. He was my biggest regret from high school. Why hadn’t I found the courage to talk to him back then? Had I thought he would reject me? Would he have rejected me?
His return to Singer’s Ridge had sparked all kinds of emotions I didn’t want to face. There was anger, disappointment, longing, and a new one that had developed in the years since—lust. Apparently, I had made no secret of my feelings, and he had understood. Our connection was real and it was deep. The kiss had been magnificent, far better than any other kiss in my adult life.
I wanted to wrap my body around his and climb to the heights of pleasure. I knew without experience that his chest would be firm, his arms strong, and his leg up to the task. I wondered how his cock would feel, sliding deep into my most intimate passage. That image shocked me awake, and I shook my head to clear it.
If thoughts could summon actions, I didn’t want him to know that I was fantasizing about him that way. It seemed crude and disrespectful. I was grateful to be alone in my kitchen without a witness.
I groaned and rubbed my forehead. The kiss was one thing, but I couldn’t go around having sex him in my imagination. What if he saw me? He had known that I wanted to kiss him and had granted my request. What if he read the lust on my face and gave in to that too?
That embarrassing thought only led to more fantasies. Lincoln and me in the break room, on my desk, out in the lumberyard between cords of wood.
I spent so much time arguing with myself that I wasn’t able to enjoy the amorous imagery my brain conjured up. I would have to go to work in a few minutes and face him. I wanted to be in complete control, but I was far from it. My baser needs were simmering just below the surface. It wouldn’t take much for me to lose composure, and I hoped I wouldn’t make a fool of myself.
I ran out of time and went to get dressed. It took me longer than usual. Every outfit I tried on, I evaluated through the lens of “what would Lincoln think?” Most of my clothes were drab and hung loosely to conceal my figure rather than enhance it. Staring at myself in the mirror, I felt like an old librarian.
The problem was, I couldn’t wear anything overtly sexy. It wouldn’t do to put myself on display at work. If I really wanted to show off for him, I would have to wait until he asked me out or arrange another meet-cute in the park. I finally settled on a tan pencil skirt, one that I rarely wore, but it was work appropriate. I paired it with a green T-shirt with the company logo, the sameone that a lot of the staff wore. I looked comfortable and yet feminine. It would do.
Sighing, I grabbed my purse and headed for the car. I got all the way to the driver’s seat before climbing back out and retracing my steps. I pulled the skirt off, replaced it with a pair of jeans, and raced back to the car. Feeling better, I floored it all the way to work, arriving just in time.
I saw Danny helping two other guys load up a truck. Lincoln was nowhere in sight. I shook my head, casting off the remnants of last night’s kiss. Hurrying to the main office, I found Porter going through the filing cabinet.
“Is there something I can help you find?” I put my purse down, stashing my keys in the desk drawer.
“Yeah, I’m looking for the last invoice from the gravel company,” he said.
I took over, finding the file and handing it to him.
He paged through it, located the most recent invoice, and pulled it out. “Thanks. You look good.”
I blinked at him. Not for a moment did I think Gina’s boyfriend was hitting on me, but I waited just long enough to make him uncomfortable. When his face turned red, I began to laugh.
“I mean, have you slept?” Porter asked quickly, caught somewhere between the friend and the boss personas.
“Yes.” I smiled, letting him off the hook. “I did sleep. And thank you for noticing.”
Saturdays were usually very busy in the retail office. Hobbyists who worked all week came out on the weekends to stock up andget started on their next project. Saturdays were usually when the bargain bin sold out and when the tool shop had to be restocked.
I knew Linc would be busy all day. A lot of these amateur construction workers bought more than their own trucks could handle and needed help getting their purchases home. Some people bought online and were only off work on weekends to accept the deliveries.
Our bread and butter, the contractors who were building houses in and around town, didn’t usually show on the weekends. Instead, there was a steady flow of small purchases, generating more work but for less money.
In my office, Saturdays were more relaxed. I couldn’t contact any suppliers or contractors, so there were fewer phone calls. Accounts payable was done on Fridays, accounts receivable on Mondays, so there wasn’t any bookkeeping to do on Saturdays. I answered a constant string of customer calls with, “yes, we’re open today,” and “yes, we have drivers who can help you with your lumber.” Other than that, my day was low stress.
Noon to one, I went to work the cash register to give Molly a lunch break. It was just busy enough to go by quickly, and the customers were mostly friendly.
Before I knew it, my single hour in the tool shop was up, and Molly returned from break. I took the opportunity to peek in the lunchroom to see if Linc was there. He wasn’t. The room was empty, not surprising since Saturdays were all hands on deck.
I tried not to be disappointed. Just because he had kissed me didn’t mean we were going steady. I wasn’t entitled to see him every day or to talk to him when we both had more importantthings to do. I walked out of the barn toward the main house, pretending that I wasn’t searching for him.
My heart leapt when I caught sight of him halfway to the building. He was walking the lot with Danny and Henry, the other drivers. They were deep in conversation, laughing about something. Linc wasn’t limping, and he didn’t look out of place. In fact, he looked more relaxed than I had seen him since he returned.
