Chapter 12

Sawyer

Our morning routine hasn't changed since we got married. I rise at four o'clock – an old habit from before I became a teenager. Also, the hot water runs out fast, so I try to get into the shower early enough for it to reheat by six o'clock, when Asher wakes up. We have coffee together at six-fifteen. My job is only ten minutes away from home, so I leave home at around six-thirty.

Asher's high school is ten minutes in the opposite direction.

He meets me downstairs for coffee promptly at six-fifteen. "You look handsome," I tell him, reaching up to turn his LINKSFIELD EAGLES cap backwards. I press a kiss to his Adam's apple, inhaling our pine-scented soap. "When are you gonna fuck me with nothing but this cap on your head?" I purr against his skin.

He kisses my cheekbone and turns his cap back around. When I pout, he laughs. "The kids tease me when I wear it backwards. They say I've got rizz ."

I laugh. "You do have rizz . You've got serious game, baby. Such a hot coach."

He shakes his head, smiling, and his face is pink. Asher really doesn't know how handsome he is. I hand him his coffee and we take it to the living room. He stands at the window and I take the armchair where Reece sat last night.

"Are we okay?" he asks. I don't like that he asks such an important question with such a great distance between us.

I take a sip of my coffee, set it on the side table, and go to him. He sips his coffee, watching me with so much worry in his eyes. "I'm okay, if you're asking about me," I say. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay."

"Then we're okay."

"You don't have to help him. I'm sure he'll find his way."

"Do you really want to send him on his way like that?"

"I want him to be okay, but not at the cost of disrupting our lives."

"Okay. I'll leave it with you. If you think he could do with our help, then send him to the company office."

It takes three days for Asher to offer Reece our help. Another week for Reece to accept.

A week and a half after meeting him for the first time, he's standing in the woodlot looking like a lost puppy. I pause my chopping, wiping the sweat off my forehead. Brennan, our foreman, is on the other side of the woodlot.

"Hey," I call out. "Reece."

He turns in my direction but he can't locate me. Setting my chainsaw down, I remove my protective gloves, and make my way to him.

"New guy?" Brian asks as I pass him. Brian is a bucker. He cuts the trees that we fell into logs.

"Maybe. He's here for a job."

"You know him?"

"Yeah. Kinda."

He spots me as I come up the clearing, where the wash site is. He lifts his hand in greeting. Today, he's wearing jeans and a pair of brown boots with a heavy beige sweater. Not the kind of clothing you'd wear to visit a piece of land that is in the middle of deforestation.

"It's nice seeing you again," I say as I walk up to him.

He smiles. His kind of prettiness doesn't belong in such rough outdoors.

"Yeah. Uh, you too. I went up to the O & R Construction Company office like Asher said, and they sent me here. They said I could ask for Brennan Hastings."

"Sure. Let me take you to him. He's by the skidders."

"Skidders?" he says, walking a step behind me as we make our way across the logging site.

I peer over my shoulder. "Doesn't your father own a construction company?"

His face is immediately beet-red. "Yeah, but it's not . . . not like this."

"Oh. Not logging. Got it."

"Not that I'm familiar with any of the kinds of construction they do either. I'm not very good at learning." His ears are red too. He covers his eyes with the back of his hand, groaning. "Probably not something you should say when you're trying to get hired for a job."

I laugh. "We're not like those corporate people you're used to. If you can bend your back and get it done, you're good. You're strong. You'll do fine."

I can't be sure if it's the wind picking up or if there's another reason for the shift in the air. Did he look at me too long before I looked away? Why did time feel different for just that one second?

"Really?" He asks. "You think so?"

Do I think he's strong? Do I think he'll do fine? Well, yes. But why does that sound so unbelievable to him? "Yeah, sure."

He grins. "Thank you for helping me. Really. I – I like the idea of working outside. Never done anything like it before, but I think I'll enjoy it."

"We might get your hands dirty and a little rough, but you won't mind, right?" I give his well-manicured hands a pointed look.

He notices. Shoves them into his pockets. "Not at all."

"Yo, Bren." I have to shout over the engines of trucks getting ready to leave the site with logs for the sawmill.

Brennan signals for us to wait.

"So, you've always done this? This type of work?" Reece asks in between the noise.

"No, actually. I did a lot of things before this – bartending, loading pigs. Bussed some tables two towns over for a long time too." He doesn't have to know I've been working since I was a kid, keeping my head down and earning my keep wherever anyone was willing to pay for a bit of easy child labor. He's rich folk. He probably won't understand.

"Right."

Brennan comes over to us. He's a forty-something dad-of-four, who treats everyone like family. And if anyone thinks that's very sweet, it's not. He'll kick your ass if you screw up in the same way he'll kick your ass if you're going through tough times and don't go to him for help. He's a sturdy square of a man, with a heart of gold, a mouth made for sailors and probably one of the best people I know.

"Hey, kid. What's up? You done with that stump up top?" He casts his eyes to Reece.

"Yeah, Deacon's clearing now."

"Nice. We're making good progress on this one, eh?"

"Sure are. Bren, office people sent someone down here." I point to Reece, who holds out his hand awkwardly.

Brennan dusts his hands on his jeans and looks at Reece questioningly. "Inspection or somethin'?"

"No," Reece says quickly. "No. I – I'm looking for a job? They said you might have something for me."

"He's Asher's friend," I say. "We suggested he go to the office and ask."

They shake hands. "Oh. Okay, then. You and Asher recommended—?" Brennan looks at me and lets out a chuckle. "Reece, was it?" he asks in Reece's direction.

"Yes. Reece Carter."

"Right. Right. Okay. Reece, give me a minute with Sawyer. You can wait over there." He points to his mobile office off to the left, several feet away.

I look at Reece. Why is he so nervous? This is the easiest job anyone can get. And Brennan is the most laid back guy in the world.

"Take a seat inside, no problem," Brennan says. "I think I've got some bottled water in there if you want."

"Yes. Yes, of course. Thank you."

As soon as Reece is out of earshot, Brennan puts his arm around my shoulder and steers me further away from the mobile office.

"You recommended him?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

I laugh. "What? Somethin' wrong with him?"

It's Bren's turn to laugh. "Sawyer, don't fuck with me. That boy looks like he would cry if his nail broke."

"Shut the fuck up, Bren. That aint' right. And he's not a boy . He's almost thirty."

"Aint' never seen a man so pretty in my life but that's beside the point. He's Asher's friend, you said? Where's he from?"

"Arizona. Look, Bren, I'm gonna shoot straight with you here. He's an accountant, okay? He's got a nice, rich dad over there, but he's trying to make it on his own. Starting from scratch and all that. I know he looks a little . . ." What's the word? . . . " Polished . But let him work with me. I'll show him the ropes. He'll be fine. Just give him a chance."

"You sure? 'Cos I aint' sure."

"I'm sure. Everyone has a story, Bren. Everyone needs a chance, right?"

"Right. Right. Okay. I'll put him next to you."

I give Brennan a grateful pat on the back. "Thanks, Bren. I owe you one."

He laughs. "Just tell Asher to bring home the championship this year again. We're on a winning streak."

"I'll tell him. Go, Eagles."

"Let me get him some paperwork. Reece, right?"

"Yeah."

Brennan chuckles. "Even his name is pretty."

Brian and I are sitting under the shade cloth with our early lunch when Reece comes out of Brennan's office.

"Ain't no way he's gonna last one day out here," Brian says around a mouthful of peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"Wanna bet?" I ask.

He grins and holds out his hand. "You buy beer."

"Bet." I slap his hand.

"For the whole month."

I slap his hand harder. "Fuckin' bet , bitch, 'cos if he's gettin' hired I'll be trainin' him. Ain't no one gonna be failin' on my watch."

"Well, go get your little green bean, then." He angles his head to our left, where Reece is approaching us with a bunch of papers clutched in his hand.

I set down my insulated mug and rise from the stump I've been sitting on. I wish he wouldn't be unsure of himself like that. I don't know him, but I can see it all over his face and in the way he walks. If I had a face like that no one would be able to bring me down. I'd have so much confidence.

He's interesting to watch. All that upper-class charm looks good on him. So polite and soft and well-spoken. Was he like that when Asher was inside him? Or was he different? A little wild, maybe.

Shut the fuck up. What?

My face heats up. Reece approaches, his eyes on me. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, like he's trying not to smile, and failing. His eyes are bright. It makes him look like he hasn't eaten chocolate cake in three years and someone just gave him a monster piece, and he's trying to act like it's no big deal.

Our eyes remain locked.

"I got the job," he says in an understated tone that doesn't match the sparkle in his eyes.

"Of course, you did."

"Welcome to the team." Brian brushes his dreadlocks away from his face and reaches over to swallow Reece's hand in his enormous one. "I'm Brian Wendel. Currently presenting as straight, but there's been some doubts recently. I'm workin' on that. Thirty-two years of age. Involuntarily single."

I roll my eyes.

Reece laughs and shakes Brian's hand enthusiastically, pulling his lips into his mouth. Again, like he's trying not to smile. "Reece Carter."

"Hey, Imma go finish cleaning up the trailers," Brian tells me. "Lookin' forward t'all that beer."

I shove him. "Get the fuck outta here."

Brian laughs all the way to where the trucks are parked.

"You really thought I'd get it? The job?" Reece asks when it's just the two of us again. I can't answer him immediately because he's got his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and I'm caught in some fucked-up daydream where I'm watching Asher suck on that lip.

"Never doubted it for a second," I reply good-naturedly, like I didn't just—

What the fuck is wrong with me?

He lets himself smile more fully now, and when that smile on his lips meets the sparkle in his eyes, my breath stalls in my chest for a moment.

"It's the first job I've ever gotten on my own. I was so nervous. I was sure I'd fuck it up." His cheeks turn pink. Pretty. The warm color quickly spreads to the rest of his face and up to his ears. Maybe he didn't mean to tell me that. It's curious and warming to see how excited he is about it.

"Well, I think we should celebrate your first job you got on your own."

His eyes widen. "What? No. It's just a—it's nothing to celebrate."

I give him a look. "Are you kidding? It's a pretty big deal." I look around the woodlot. Most of the guys are scattered around, finishing up lunch. Deacon and some of the maintenance crew are the closest. "Yo, Deek. Come on over here with the boys."

Reece grabs my forearm, and then drops his hand hastily when I turn my gaze to his and hold it there. "No, we don't have to do that. Why would they care?"

Something touches me inside. I know from conversations with Asher that Reece is a bit of a loner. A little shy. But . . .

"They care, trust me. We like it when good things happen to people."

Deacon comes over, wiping crumbs from his four-inch beard. Abe, Walter and his brother, Wade make their way to us too. "'Sup, Sawyer. We got a new guy?" Wade says.

Reece's face is now the same color as the apple that Snow White ate.

"Yeah. This is Reece Carter. Just got hired today."

"You like beer?" Abe asks. Of course, he does. At fifty-three, Abe's liver is likely to outlive him because that man can drink anyone under the table like he's an underage church boy on a curfew, and he'll take anyone with him.

"Sure," Reece says, but I don't know about that. He seems more like a vintage wine kind of guy. Rich folk stuff.

Walter gives him a pat on the back and says, "You staying around here?" And then, before Reece can answer, he adds, "Remind me to give you directions to our place. Bianca – my wife – she makes the best pork pie in Linksfield, and she'll cook for you anytime. Come have dinner with us some time."

Reece nods and I think he's overwhelmed. Especially after Abe pinches his cheek and asks him why he's so darn pretty.