Page 9 of Honeymoon Phase
Unlike my dad and his friends, who I’ve had to act tough for most of my young adult life. I remember getting my period at work and asking if I could run to the store for something and my dad barked at me to get back to work because we were way behind. I didn’t have the courage to tell him what my real problem was, so I just balled up toilet paper and got back on the forklift.
The horror I felt when I got off the chair and saw that I’d leaked on the seat haunts me to this day. I snuck back into the lumberyard after hours to clean up my mess so none of the guys would see it the next day. That kind of secrecy gets tiring.
And with Luke, it doesn’t even exist. Hell, one time I randomly told him on the phone that I was crabby because I had my period and he brought me chocolate when he came to pick up an order. Who taught him how to do that for a woman? His mom? That’s impressive because she had four boys, so it’s not like she had any reason to discuss it. Or maybe it was his niecethat he’s super close to. All I know is he’s going to make a great husband to someone someday. Just not me.
My eyes catch sight of movement out in the lumberyard, and I step in front of the window to get a better look.
My heart rate quickens because it’s Luke Fletcher out there talking to Bullhead as if I conjured him here with my thoughts. Dang, he looks good. Has he gotten more buff since our trip?
When I first met the Fletcher brothers, I could barely tell them apart. They’re all well-over-six-foot, bearded, and built bros who must share a closet as well as a mountaintop because I rarely see them in anything but plaids and jeans, even in the thick of summer.
But Luke has a slightly leaner build to his frame than the others. That was very clear in Mexico when the guys were all shirtless in the pool. All of them are extremely fit for thirty- and even fortysomething-year-old men. But Luke’s muscles are way more defined. I could see every ridge of his abs and the deep V of his hips that disappeared into those low-slung boardshorts. The genetics in that family are out of this world.
Luke moves differently too. His gait is quicker and more purposeful. Probably from being the youngest of four boys and always running to catch up.I remember what it felt like to have a little brother chase after me.
My throat feels tight as that thought conjures up a memory I don’t want to explore, so I grab my phone and make my way through the building center to head outside.
The August sun is blazing as I beeline across the hot pavement, straight for my buddy. He hasn’t picked up an order here in weeks, usually sending his brother Calder instead. I’m about to give him a piece of my mind about that. Luke’s head turns as if he can sense my approach, and when we lock eyes, I instantly feel lighter.
“Hey, shithead!” I bellow as I barrel right into him, giving him a hard shove in the gut that pushes all the air from his lungs.
He laughs and shakes his head, stumbling back and pressing his hand to his hat in that shy way he has about him. He squints and shoots me a smile. “Hey, Roe.”
“Long time no see.” I prop my hands on my hips and glance over to Bullhead, who’s writing something down in a clipboard. “I can take over, Bullhead.”
“Okay, boss lady,” Bullhead says, tucking his pencil behind his ear before passing off Luke’s order form to me. He waves his goodbye and takes off and I turn back to my friend, noticing he seems to be avoiding eye contact with me.
“What brings you in today?” I ask, glancing down at the sheet but not really giving a shit about it.
“Oh, we need some decking quotes for a new smart house we’re bidding out,” Luke replies, walking over to a large stack of uncapped composite decking we just got in. It uses a lot of recycled plastics in it, so it’s always something his brother Wyatt goes for with all the green developing the Fletcher Brothers started doing the past few years.
“Why didn’t you call me?” I ask, blocking the sun from my eyes as I squint up at him. Luke is a solid six foot two and I’m maybe five-six in my platform shoes, so he’s definitely got the height advantage on me.
“Wyatt wanted me to come see what you had on hand.”
“Cool, cool,” I reply, wondering why it feels so fucking awkward with my friend right now. “We can get you set up for sure.”
“Thanks,” Luke replies, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“So how have you been?” I ask, sitting down on a stack of two-by-sixes that wobble under my weight.
“Good, you?” Luke replies automatically as he moves over and steadies the wood.
“Can’t complain.” I shrug dismissively. “It’s weird not having my dad around here every day.”
“I bet.” Luke glances back at the building center. “Nice for me though. I don’t have to worry about a rifle being pointed through that window right there.”
I laugh as I recall the time I stood right here with Luke, and we saw my dad holding his hunting gun in the window. He wasn’t aiming it at us, just showing it off and making his feelings known.
“He’s all talk.”
“So you keep telling me.” Luke yanks his baseball hat off his head and runs his fingers through his sandy-brown hair that’s longer than I’ve ever seen it. It curls out at the bottom when he puts his cap back on and I have a strange urge to run my fingers through it. Not that I would ever act on that urge.
My God that would be awkward.
There was a moment in Mexico, however, where I thought Luke was wanting to cross our friendship boundaries. He had this look in his eyes when we got to the villa and realized we had to share a two-bed suite that made me so fucking nervous.
It’s not that I don’t find Luke attractive. I’d have to be dense as hell not to notice.
