Page 40 of The Opposite of Romance
He eyes me for a second before leaving back to his station, measuring those monstrous beams and lifting them up on the circular saw. After scarfing the wrap, my legs start to hurt. I’m a writer, after all. It’s not like I’m used to standing for longer periods of time.
“Let’s try this one more time, ok?” Moving the plates form the lounge chair, I’m walking on eggshells as I lower myself onto it.
“Waaah!” A scream tears out of Stella.
“For fu…” I say, but then Logan turns on the saw, and Stella calms down.
My eyes are wide and cautious, staring down at her, waiting for another scream. But it doesn’t come. She sleeps peacefully. I exhale a relieved breath and get cocky enough to make myself comfortable on the chair.
My eyes roll to the back of my head as my back hits the cushioned backrest.
Fuck, this feels good.
Guess I’m more out of shape than I thought if carrying a baby for half an hour almost broke me.
Logan’s lips pull up when he notices me. He turns off the saw, but I wave my arms frantically to make him stop.
“It helps her sleep,” I mouth, pointing to Stella.
He chuckles under his breath.
Shit, could this be bad for her ears?
Five minutes and a Google search later, I determine that from this distance; the decibels aren’t damaging to sensitive baby ears. Still, I place a hat on her head, hoping to cancel it out some more.
I continue scrolling my phone, but I can barely see anything with the sun burning down at me, so I give up, focusing on watching Logan work. His movements hypnotize me. Stretching out the measuring tape. Drawing a line with the pencil. Placing the pencil between his lips. Positioning the beam on the saw. Holding the beam tightly as he saws it in half, his biceps flexing.
“How did you do that?” Sandy’s voice snaps me out of my trance.
“What?”
“You’re sitting down. She’s sleeping.” She stares at the two of us like she can’t compute what is happening.
“Oh, turns out your baby just needed some white noise.”
“White noise? I’ve tried every app there is. There was the night when she cried through the sound of the hairdryer,” she lists off on her fingers, “the night she cried through the sound of the vacuum cleaner. And let’s not forget the night when she cried through something called ‘the soothing sounds of the womb’.”
“Have you ever tried with a circular saw?”
Her eyes land on Logan. “Can’t say that I did. But this is a game changer. If it’s not a one-time-fluke.”
“We’ll see tomorrow.” I wink at her. “Did you get some rest?”
“Not a bunch. But I had a micro nap. And I took a shower, not rushing to get out.”
“Maybe tomorrow you can prepare some milk for her, and you can sleep longer?”
“Come on, Sadie. You have work to do. I can’t take up all your time.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You were helping me only a few days after you gave birth. This is the least I can do.”
She sighs but nods in agreement. Relief floods me. I need to make sure she’s ok.
Chapter Seventeen
Sandy comesby every morning for the next few days. I take Stella and the diaper bag from her arms, and she leaves for my bedroom. Each day, she sleeps a little better. Stella and I hang out outside, me lounging in the chair and her sleeping in her stroller. On day three of this arrangement, I realize I could easily do my work here, so I set up the laptop on a tray in my lap and work on the book.
My eyes often flee to the attractive man in my backyard, and I find myself replaying the scene where he caught me masturbating repeatedly. Weirdly enough, it doesn’t tamper with my writing focus. I would say I’m hitting my daily word counts even faster than before, the steamy scenes simply flowing from me.
