Page 30 of Endless Southern Love

“Fine, Ms. Walsh.”

I go back to the valve and pick up the wrench. Another tug and I give up. Pulling out my phone, I search my contacts for the water department. My call goes to voicemail. I leave a message stating the emergency, as well as the urgency because no one wants the wrath of Lemon, and I hang up.

“Look, I don’t expect you to understand?—”

“I’m not stupid,” she says as she crosses her arms. I wish, with all my being, she didn’t do shit like this. The top two buttons of her shirt are undone and the way she has her arms cross pushes her breasts up. God how I miss touching and sucking on them. She’s blessed with the perfect set of tits. Hell, everything about her is fucking perfect, right now down to her smart mouth.

“My eyes are up here,” she says, pointing to her face.

“Sorry,” I mutter. Except I’m not sorry. I could stare at her for days and not tire of what I see. “Anyway, I called the water department because the casing is stuck, and I need them to bring their tools out. Right now, the school doesn’t have any water. When they—the city—installed this portion for the sprinkler, they didn’t give you a bypass.”

“What’s that mean?”

“The bypass would allow you to shut off different lines, which is what we need to do now.” I point to the small lake. “We don’t want the water running to the sprinkler line because all it’s doing is saturating the grass, but we need the water to run to the school so toilets can flush, hands can be washed, and kids can get a drink from the fountain.”

“And you can’t fix this?”

I shake my head, hating to admit defeat. “I need this piece here”I tap the casing with my rubber booted toe“to come off.”

Lemon huffs. She then walks toward me, picks the wrench up off the ground, and starts beating the shit out of the dial.

“Stop,” I shout and wait for an opening so I can hold her arm back.

Only the opening never comes. Water spurts, gushes, and streams in all directions. She gasps while I fight the rushing rapid of water spray to get the valve shut off again. The only saving grace is the pipe is now broken and the school will have water.

I glance at Lemon. She’s soaked from head to toe, standing there sputtering.

“I told you to stop.” It’s a low blow, but one I can’t resist taking.

“I hate you!” she screams.

She leaves me no choice but to stand and defend myself. “You hate me?” I ask as I get in her face.

Lemon nods.

Someday, I’ll look back on this moment and ask myself, what the fuck were you thinking. The answer is clear.

I wasn’t.

My hands encase her cheeks, pulling her forward. Our lips mash together. Eager, hungry, and finally reuniting in familiarity. Lemon hungrily pushes into me, her mouth open—inviting and welcoming me.

Her fingers trail into my five o’clock shadow and nails dig into my skin. It’s a welcomed feeling, proving I’m alive and this is what my body needs. What I’ve been missing. This is where I belong—where I have always belonged—with Lemon.

Lemon grips my head firmly, keeping me from escaping as she works her mouth against mine. She moans, sending a jolt right to my crotch. I pull her closer, needing her to understand what she does to me.

“Don’t,” she says as she pulls away. “I can’t go there with you.” Her fingers touch her lips as she averts her eyes and pulls away from me.

“Why not? I love you, and I know you love me. I don’t understand why you want to keep this wall up between us when there doesn’t need to be one.”

She looks at me sharply and I step back. This is definitely the look she gives kids who are sent to her office for making toilet paper bombs in the bathroom. “Because you cheated.”

“The hell I did.” I run my hand over my ball cap in frustration. “That night . . .” I pause not really wanting to remember the night shit went down between us because she needs to know I’m not the only one to blame. I step toward her and lift her chin so she’s looking at me. She needs to hear the words I have to say, and I hope they sink in.

“That night you broke my heart, Lemon. You shattered it into a million little pieces. I was hurt and drunk and . . . I don’t regret it because I got Goldie from it. But you devastated me that night and the weeks after when you wouldn’t take my phone calls. We were together for seven years and you just closed the door like I wasn’t standing on the other side.”

Lemon steps back, leaving me no choice but to drop my hand. “And when I finally found the courage to call you back, you had moved on.”

My head shakes at her words. “See that’s where you’re wrong. Ana and I have never been a couple.”

---