Page 46 of The Lies We Tell
“You called your sister to ask?”
He shrugs. “She loves plants, and I know shit about them. I took her for a video walk around the garden center, and she told me which pots to shove in the cart.”
I’m speechless.
I throw my arms around his neck. “They’re perfect.”
It takes several trips to get everything around the back. I realize I’m timing every trip so I am there at the same time as Saint. I guess I’m not ready to be alone near the sidewalk yet. If Saint notices, he doesn’t say anything.
“Do you have plan?” I ask Saint.
“A plan for what?” he asks, placing down two large pots.
“Where you want all the plants to go?”
“Babe, I don’t even know what the fuck half of these are.” He shakes his head and grins. “I’m the free labor. You tell me where you want them, and I’ll lug them.”
“You two need a hand?”
Hap looks even more like a hippie today. A thin brown leather lace ties his hair back off his face and he’s wearing a pale green bandana.
“Hey, Hap,” I say. “We’d love one. Have you properly met Saint?” I wave Saint over and the two men shake hands.
“Seen each other around often enough,” Hap says.
“Sorry it’s taken Briar’s arrival to properly meet you,” Saint says. “Thanks for the plant.”
Hap nods once.
“Hap was in the Vietnam War. Had the deadliest job, checking the tunnels for traps and mines and things.”
“Bomb disposal? Know a thing or two about that myself,” Saint says. “Heard tunnel rats were volunteer specialists. How’d you end up doing that?”
Hap nods, his blue eyes watery. “The tunnel complexes were vast rooms connected by tiny tunnels. They’d have aid stations and sleeping chambers and storage caches. Even had wells. Bombing from above did little. Smoking them out even less. Because there were super narrow tunnels, they looked for men with my build. Just did my job.”
Saint casually puts his arm over my shoulder. “Takes balls, crawling though those claustrophobic tunnels in life-or-death situations.”
Hap takes a deep breath and looks up at the sky. “Part of the reason I spend so much time outside now. Hated tunnels of any kind since I got home.”
“Thank you for your service, Hap,” I say. “And yours.” I look up to Saint. “Thank you.”
Saint winks, and Hap brushes my thanks aside. “What can I do to help?” Hap asks.
Between the three of us, we manage to get some of the bigger pieces of crap littering the back yard into Saint’s truck, and Saint takes them away to be disposed of while Hap and I dig farther around the border. Well, he digs, and I follow and turn the soil. He’s wiry and strong. I place plants in their pots on the surface as we go.
At some point, Hap goes and brings his lawn mower around. It’s amazing how much better the yard looks after four hours of hard work.
Saint has taken his shirt off, and he wipes sweat from his brow with the back of his arm. It’s quite the distraction. I think about the way his chest felt against mine in bed last night. When he notices me looking, he gestures for me to get back on with the planting. Later, I catch him checking out my ass.
Eventually, Hap leaves to run errands, and it’s just the two of us.
Saint steps into my space, his body all sweaty. I touch a drip on his chest. His lips touch my ear. “What would it take to persuade you to let me eat you for lunch?”
I think about yesterday. About my little freak-out. About the conversation that followed. About how I’ve fantasized about his hands on my body most of the morning.
“Hey,” he says, tipping my chin and pressing a chaste kiss to my lips. “I was just teasing. We can go make ham sandwiches.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I was reliving embarrassment from last night. I’ve been watching you most of this morning. It’s hot when you get physical.”
