25. Bri

25

brI

My phone buzzed across the shop. As safely as I could, I turned off the circular saw and jogged across the room. I knew exactly who it was even before the screen lit up with the words.

How's it going over there? Would love a picture.

A blush rose to my cheeks at just her name. Sarah had some kind of insane grip on me that I still couldn't explain. But this was the fourth table update she'd asked for in a few days. She was getting desperate to see what I'd done so far.

But I couldn't just send a picture. It still needed to be sanded, stained, and sealed. And until then, the piece wouldn't look how I wanted it to.

I typed out a message before heading back to my work.

No pics. Going well. It'll be done on time. I miss you.

The whir of the circular saw was the soundtrack to my day as I cut out small detail pieces. They had to be added before the sanding and the staining but would be intricate and require a delicate hand.

My mind was swimming with images of Sarah. When I told Cleo about our rendezvous, they were thrilled to hear all of the gory details. But when it came to what this looked like long term, they were a lot more hesitant. Cleo had seen me fawn over Sarah listlessly for over a decade and didn't want to see me get hurt again. They reminded me how badly it had hurt when Sarah and Jason got together and urged me to protect my heart if I felt like she wasn't ready.

Of course I would try to. But Sarah was something otherworldly. I would've waited a hundred lifetimes for her. And then a few thousand more.

After cutting out a few dozen inch-sized pieces of white ash, I set them in a stack across from the table. It was already getting late in the day, and I was far too exhausted to work on something so fragile.

Instead, I peeled back the tarp covering the tabletop and lifted the safety glasses from my eyes. The glasses slicked my hair back against my head as I squatted to examine the bottom of the table. From below, the dovetail joints looked well-integrated. Once everything was sanded and stained, they would hardly be noticeable.

The goal was to end up with a table to look like it had been carved straight from the trunk, with as few visible seams as possible. It was a little more natural than my old sculpture used to be, but it was the design that spoke to me.

More than anything, I hoped it would fit in with Sarah's vision for the space. She had shown me her ideas for the house, just enough to jog my imagination. But this felt a bit more rustic than the rest of the place.

I didn't want to let her down on such a big job.

Just as I was getting lost in the thought, a loud knock came from the door.

Shit, it's probably one of my lumber guys.

Tossing the tarp back over the table, I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the hem of my gray workout shirt.

"Just a second," I called out toward the workshop's old, metal door.

Jogging across the shop, I swung open the rickety door to meet Sarah's plumb face and excited smile. "Hi."

I shook my head as I met her blue eyes. "Hi."

"You said you missed me." She bit her lip as she leaned against the doorframe.

My jaw dropped at her boldness. "And I'm supposed to believe this isn't a ploy to see what I've been up to?"

Shrugging, Sarah pushed past me. A fresh floral scent wafted into my nose as her body brushed against mine. She planted a gentle kiss on my cheek; the warmth radiated straight to my stomach. "All I'm saying is that Bri Shaw was a chronic procrastinator in my experience. So I just wanted to check on you."

As she tried to move away, I put my hands on her hips and pulled her ass against my hips. I lowered my voice and leaned into her ear. "So you didn't miss me?"

Sarah leaned her head back, resting it on my shoulder. Her throat strained as she spoke, "Did I say that?" Jokingly, she shoved me off and headed into the shop. I watched her every move: the way her hips swayed, her lush thighs brushing together under her jeans.

In a matter of seconds, my entire body was pulsing with excitement.

She got to the tarp and ran her finger along it. Lifting her eyes, she wiggled her eyebrows at me. "How's it going?"

I crossed my arms, flexing my forearms for Sarah to see. "Good. Like I said, it'll be done on time."

"Is that true?" Sarah narrowed her eyes at me as she held up the freshly cut pieces of detailing, still warm from the saw.

Crossing the room, I nodded and stood in front of her. "Yes, ma'am."

Sarah's gaze flicked between my eyes, my lips, and the bead of sweat trailing down my neck. "How are you working here without air conditioning? It's so hot out."

I pointed to the tiny unit in the back corner of the shop. "It does the trick."

Rolling her eyes, Sarah shook her head and leaned her ass against the tarp. "That thing must be from 1992. I think you just like this disheveled, sweaty look. It probably pulls all the ladies."

A smirk took over my face. I placed my hands on the table behind her and met her gaze. "Is it working?"