Cash poked his head in, smiled as he watched her stretch, and then sauntered into the master bedroom like a cowboy entering a saloon.
She couldn’t help the smile that came to her face. He’d been installing trim throughout the main level and had sawdust down his front and arms. “You look like the abominable sawdust man.”
He placed his hands on her arms, spinning her so her back was to him, and began kneading the muscles in her neck and shoulders. “You don’t look much different.”
She glanced down to see herself covered in dust and brushed at her arms. “Ugh! It’s gritty.”
He leaned in and kissed her neck, his warm breath tickling her skin. “I like you gritty.”
She giggled, tipping to give him better access and melting into his touch that didn’t let up. “I just need to vacuum and wipe the floor, and we can finish it tomorrow.”
He continued to pepper kisses, even as he turned her to face him. “We’ve worked for sixteen hours straight—you’re wearing yourself out.”
“We all are.” The crew pushed just as hard as she and Cash did. Not because Cash asked them to, but because they were anxious to see Cash succeed at this. He’d taken a chance on each of them at one point in time or another—and they acted like this was their chance to pay him back. As if they owed him. Cash didn’t think like that.
“I sent everyone home with the promise that you and I were taking the night off too.”
“You tricked them into leaving?”
“No. I promised my pastor I’d do something, and I’m keeping that promise.”
“Oh?” She’d heard him talk about the singing preacher a couple times, and he prayed over meals. His faith was a calming oil to the troubled seas of his soul. That was what made the difference between the Cash she’d loved in high school and the man she was falling for now—peace in his soul. “Let’s get washed up, and I’ll meet you out front.”
“Fine. I’ll take a hillbilly bath and be down in twenty minutes.”
She stumbled as he let her go, unaware that her knees had gone all weak while he’d been working the knots out of her muscles. He touched her arm to steady her and grinned the way he did when he realized he affected her. She didn’t mind at all; the look was part hunger and part cocky and usually meant there was some good kissing in her future.
He disappeared, and she made her way into the master bathroom. The plumber was done in here, the beautiful clawfoot bathtub installed and working. The tile in the shower and tub surround were finished today. They had to set for a couple days before the grout could be applied.
She stood in the tub and used the hand sprayer to wash off with cold water. The water heater would arrive tomorrow.
The whole experience was chilly and felt more like getting sprayed with the garden hose than relaxing, but at least she was able to wash the sawdust out of her hair and she didn’t scream this time. She could swear she’d heard Cash laughing just outside the door this morning when she’d done this for the first time.
She emerged fifteen minutes later with dry hair and shiny skin. Blow-drying took longer than the shower, but she’d reveled in the warmth on her scalp. She opened the front door to find Cash, who was scrubbed clean as well and looking hot in a black tee shirt and pair of dark jeans, leaning against a motorcycle.
Details of the bike hit her like blasts of warm wind: the retro blue gas casing, the same color as her ’70s fridge; the mirror she’d bought him for his birthday; and the foot rests they’d scrounged from another bike at the recycle yard. Her eyes flooded with tears as she was suddenly a seventeen-year-old girl so in love with a boy.
“You kept it,” she whispered.
They used to work on the bike together—well, she’d hand him tools and talk his ear off while they ate cookies she’d baked. He’d listen to everything she said, even when he looked like he was thinking hard about the engine trouble or the sputtering noise from the exhaust pipe.
Cash watched her, his eyes creased. Pensive. “My best memories were with you and this bike.”
She made her way down the steps and reached out to touch the handle. “I feel like I’m in a dream. It’s unreal.” She felt the cool rubber gripper.
Cash ducked down to catch her eyes. “We never got to ride it. Not together.”
She shook her head. “You had to rebuild the tranny, and then …” And then he’d broken up with her.
He hooked a finger under her chin and brought her gaze up to meet his. “Ride with me now?”
Being on this bike would be like closure and a new start all in one. She grinned. “You mean it actually works?”
His face lit up. “Took me years. But I didn’t give up on it.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Why not?”
“Because it was the closest I felt to you.”
