Page 17 of When We Were More
Fuck. What is she wearing? Some kind of form-fitting workout pants with a matching long-sleeved top. The outfit does nothing to hide the fact that she’s got the figure of a goddess. She’s holding a matching zip-up jacket, and I wish like hell she’d put it on.
What do you care? You’re not interested.
I walk toward them, peeved when she appears wrapped up enough in whatever this guy says that she doesn’t notice I’m there, even when I’m only a few feet away. The man pulls his hat off, runs his hand through his hair, and then puts the hat back on… backward this time, tempting me to roll my eyes. I’m close to her and see Tillie’s expression change for a second, and there’s no doubt in my mind she finds him attractive.
An emotion I can’t name overcomes me. It’s like a mix of anger and maybe jealousy, which is crazy because I have no reason to feel either right now. And I don’t get jealous. Ever.
I clear my throat, and they both glance over at me. Tillie’s smile fades almost immediately. A small twisting sensation grabs the pit of my stomach. That’s not the reaction I want to elicit from her.
“Oh, hey. You’re still here,” Tillie remarks. Her tone falls flat.
I should stop myself from being a smart ass, but I can’t. “What was your first clue? My huge work truck parked in your drive?”
“Kiss my ass,” she mutters under her breath through a fake smile. I’m guessing she figured I wouldn’t hear. She was wrong.
“Shouldn’t I at least buy you dinner first?” Her eyes widen and her cheeks flush a pretty pink. Junior stands there, watchingus, his head tilted, and his eyes narrowed. Tillie shakes her head and turns back to the man.
“Jake, this is Henry. He’s the foreman working on my kitchen remodel. Henry, this is?—”
The kid is staring at me.
“Holy shit, Mr. Aron. It’s an honor to meet you again, sir.”
I internally cringe when, about two seconds later, Tillie’s eyes are bulging and her mouth gapes wide open. The young man is holding his hand out, so I grasp it and give it a firm shake. I might squeeze a little tighter than necessary. I probably aged a decade in Tillie’s eyes when the little shit called me ‘sir.’
When I glance back at Matilda, her expression is no longer one of shock. Now her cheeks are red, and her eyes narrowed and filled with… anger?
The kid must see that I don’t recognize him.
“You came and spoke at my carpentry program over at the community college in Meadow Creek a while back. It was your lecture that made me decide to take additional courses on advanced framing. I’m in the process of trying to find an apprenticeship. Applied to yours two weeks ago, as a matter of fact.”
I smile at him. It’s genuine now. I love seeing excitement for the craft in others. And bringing advanced framing techniques into our business was my passion. I’m damn proud of it.
“That’s great. We’ll be looking at the candidates in a few weeks.” Tillie’s glare is focused on the side of my face, but I keep my attention on Jake. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your specific class. How long ago was it?”
“Oh, it was like two years ago. I’m hoping to be well on my way in my career by the time I’m twenty-eight. I’ve got three years left to hit the target, and this training is my last big hurdle.” I do the math in my head. He’s twenty-five. “I’m keeping my fingers crossed for the training through yourcompany. Tom Lawland, my instructor, says you’re the best company for advanced framing and that you’re also a master carpenter in trim and cab?—”
“Yeah, I’ve been speaking at Tom’s classes for a while now. I enjoy it. Good luck on the applications, too.”
Jake opens his mouth to say something else, but Matilda beats him to it.
“Jake, it looks like the sun is starting to go down. Do you want to do your measurements now?”
Jake looks up at the sky like he’s only now realizing that daylight can play a part in whatever it is he’s out here to do.
“Shoot. You’re right.” His focus is back on Tillie, and I don’t like it. I swear, if hearts could pop out of people’s eyes like they do in cartoons, they’d be flying all over the place from this kid’s attention on her. “I won’t be long.” He gives her a smile that I’m betting he doesn’t even realize yet has an effect on women. Just like that, he takes off jogging toward Tillie’s backyard. I watch him until he stops by an area of her property that has some fencing. I can tell, even from this distance, that it needs repair.
I don’t give Tillie a chance to say anything before I walk over to my truck, grab the box with the tile samples I want to show her, and then sit on the porch steps. She stares at me, eyes narrowed, arms crossed. She probably thinks that demonstrates her annoyance, but it doesn’t. When she crosses her arms like that, it draws my focus right to her chest and the soft flesh peeking out of the top of the fitted shirt.
Fuck. Get it together, man.
I can’t tear my eyes away from her. Jesus, the woman is beautiful. So damn sassy, but gorgeous while she’s dishing it out. As if she is suddenly aware of how hot she looks in the get-up she’s wearing, she puts her thin jacket on, wraps her upper body in it, and stalks over to me.
“Why did Jake call you ‘Mr. Aron?’” She’s pulled her hair back, and I notice the tips of her ears are bright red. It must happen when she’s pissed—and it’s adorable.
“Because that’s my last name.” I’m confused as to why it’s this that makes her mad.
“What are you then? A cousin who works for Holden and his brothers?”
