was dry; his spirits were low, but at least he had slept well. His brain was still slightly rum-fogged, but it was nothing a little aspirin wouldn’t fix – he stumbled from his bed and down the hall to the bathroom, only realizing as he neared the door that it was closed. Right. Renee had stayed there. How could he forget?
Turning, he headed back to his bedroom, trying to silence the jumble of thoughts that flew through his mind. Had she really lain naked in his front yard last night? And more importantly, after he had turned away, too disgusted with himself to keep watching her, had she finished what she had started?
Dropping his pajama pants to his ankles, he stepped away from them and reached for a clean pair of jeans. He had missed two days of work; he could cut out early to help make sure his mom got settled in at home, but he did have to at least go check in. He was glad he mostly worked with corporate fleet cars, rentals and limousines – it gave him the freedom to run his business without his business running him.
When he’d first opened his shop, he had mostly worked with customers by appointment and the bulk of his income had been from tire sales, doing the usual oil changes, fluid flushes, and engine tune-ups, but as his reputation as a quick and reliable mechanic grew, he had attracted the notice of a small, privately owned limousine company, who had contracted him as their regular maintenance and repair mechanic. It had felt good to take jobs that weren’t emergent; he had been used to finishing jobs quickly because the customer was waiting in the lobby. But with the limousine company, he got to enjoy his work again because he wasn’t in a rush. The company had a strong fleet with a steady rotation, and they brought their vehicles to him when they were out of use for maintenance. He would have a week to do the work, then they’d take the limo and bring him another. He liked being able to do the work on his own time though, and so he’d begun seeking more corporate contracts, jobs that would allow him to work and keep the bills paid, while still allowing him the freedom he had grown to love – and the contract he had scored three weeks ago would finally put him back in the black, undoing the last of the financial damage his divorce had created.
Pulling a tee shirt over his head, Michael tugged it down and turned back to the dresser for a pair of socks. He had to piss like a racehorse and he desperately needed the aspirin bottle from the bathroom. Had Renee come out yet? He peered out his bedroom door and down the hall; Renee was walking toward him, still wearing his shirt from last night. Her hair was mussed, but he could tell she had been running her fingers through it to detangle it, and her lips shimmered with the gloss she always wore. “Morning,” he said, his voice still gravelly with sleep.
She arched her eyebrows at him and smirked. “You look like you slept well.”
“Thanks. I did,” he grinned, ignoring the way the light caught in her eyes when she looked up at him. “Why, is my hair standing up or something?”
Renee laughed, and his gut clenched as she reached out to touch his hair. She had touched him a million times – passing him a glass, sharing popcorn during their movie nights, bumping shoulders as they walked together. He had even held her in his arms before; they had danced together at both of his siblings’ weddings. Why was it so different now? Because she’s perfect.
No! She’s not perfect – she can’t be. She’s just Renee. Just Renee, and that’s it.
“It’s not standing up,” she said. “Too short for that, I think.”
Michael smirked. “Gotta say, I’ve never heard that one before.”
Shaking her head, Renee grinned. “Yeah, that’s what they all say. Then when you ask for proof …” She laughed as his mouth fell open in surprise. “Alright, enough of this. I’m going downstairs to get my
Turning, he headed back to his bedroom, trying to silence the jumble of thoughts that flew through his mind. Had she really lain naked in his front yard last night? And more importantly, after he had turned away, too disgusted with himself to keep watching her, had she finished what she had started?
Dropping his pajama pants to his ankles, he stepped away from them and reached for a clean pair of jeans. He had missed two days of work; he could cut out early to help make sure his mom got settled in at home, but he did have to at least go check in. He was glad he mostly worked with corporate fleet cars, rentals and limousines – it gave him the freedom to run his business without his business running him.
When he’d first opened his shop, he had mostly worked with customers by appointment and the bulk of his income had been from tire sales, doing the usual oil changes, fluid flushes, and engine tune-ups, but as his reputation as a quick and reliable mechanic grew, he had attracted the notice of a small, privately owned limousine company, who had contracted him as their regular maintenance and repair mechanic. It had felt good to take jobs that weren’t emergent; he had been used to finishing jobs quickly because the customer was waiting in the lobby. But with the limousine company, he got to enjoy his work again because he wasn’t in a rush. The company had a strong fleet with a steady rotation, and they brought their vehicles to him when they were out of use for maintenance. He would have a week to do the work, then they’d take the limo and bring him another. He liked being able to do the work on his own time though, and so he’d begun seeking more corporate contracts, jobs that would allow him to work and keep the bills paid, while still allowing him the freedom he had grown to love – and the contract he had scored three weeks ago would finally put him back in the black, undoing the last of the financial damage his divorce had created.
Pulling a tee shirt over his head, Michael tugged it down and turned back to the dresser for a pair of socks. He had to piss like a racehorse and he desperately needed the aspirin bottle from the bathroom. Had Renee come out yet? He peered out his bedroom door and down the hall; Renee was walking toward him, still wearing his shirt from last night. Her hair was mussed, but he could tell she had been running her fingers through it to detangle it, and her lips shimmered with the gloss she always wore. “Morning,” he said, his voice still gravelly with sleep.
She arched her eyebrows at him and smirked. “You look like you slept well.”
“Thanks. I did,” he grinned, ignoring the way the light caught in her eyes when she looked up at him. “Why, is my hair standing up or something?”
Renee laughed, and his gut clenched as she reached out to touch his hair. She had touched him a million times – passing him a glass, sharing popcorn during their movie nights, bumping shoulders as they walked together. He had even held her in his arms before; they had danced together at both of his siblings’ weddings. Why was it so different now? Because she’s perfect.
No! She’s not perfect – she can’t be. She’s just Renee. Just Renee, and that’s it.
“It’s not standing up,” she said. “Too short for that, I think.”
Michael smirked. “Gotta say, I’ve never heard that one before.”
Shaking her head, Renee grinned. “Yeah, that’s what they all say. Then when you ask for proof …” She laughed as his mouth fell open in surprise. “Alright, enough of this. I’m going downstairs to get my
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