his beer bottle my way.
"To parents healthy enough to enjoy each other," he toasted giving me the gift of the dimples again.
I clanked my bottle gently against his and felt my own smile spread since I hadn't quite looked at my parent's behavior in that light before. "Damn straight."
The sounds of cicadas and crickets filled the silence of the night and it was an easy stillness which I found unusual. I'd discovered most people didn't enjoy quiet and tended to have a need to fill the air with talk even if whatever they said meant shit-all.
But Trey didn't and I wondered how much quiet time a busy guy like him actually got in a given day.
"Tell me something, Dallas. Tell me something about you that I can't find on your resume or credit report." His voice wasn't demanding but curious. And it was that note of curiosity that had me wanting to open up to him, to hand him another piece or two of me.
"I hate green vegetables," I breathed after thinking for a minute. "I know I'm supposed to eat them, that they're all good for me and stuff. But I abhor them. Broccoli, spinach, asparagus…god, even damn green beans. Hate them and lie to everybody when they're served."
I felt his eyes on me before I heard it start. A deep wonderful laugh that seemed to begin at his toes and roam up the long length of him to explode out of his mouth in waves. Dark, delicious waves of laughter that were so rich, deep and right that I couldn't help but laugh along with him. Not that what I said was all that funny. But for whatever reason at that moment, it had both of us in stitches. When we were down to simple chuckles, I gave it right back. "Your turn."
"Me? You want to know about me?" He sounded amazed at my inquisitiveness in him and I got a shoulder nudge along with his question. "Uhm. Let's see." He stretched his long, long legs out, the heels of his boots hitting the walkway as he thought.
"I've never worn a tie. Wouldn't know where to even start if I had to do one up. Unless the fucking thing's a clip-on, it'd have to hang around my neck like some chick's fucking scarf."
Okay, now that was funny. Both the image of bad-ass Trey wearing a tie done in a standard knot and then of him wearing one that just hung from under his collar. Which set me off again, my deep belly chortles breaking into the insect's night song. I counted it as good that he again laughed with me. And when it died down enough for the cicadas and the crickets to be heard again, I found we were leaning together shoulder to shoulder. A move which didn't mean much in the whole man-woman scheme of things but there in that moment meant a lot to me.
"I like laughing with you, pretty girl," he said, bringing the bottle to his mouth and guzzling the last of what was in his bottle.
"Thanks, Trey. It's nice to have someone to laugh with." I brought my own drink to my lips only to find it empty. When was the last time I'd finished a beer? I didn't drink much but when I did, I was more of a bourbon-babe than beer-broad.
Our conversation meandered, moving in spits and starts, covering everything from restaurants to movies, debating trucks versus motorcycles and just talking and laughing as we opened up to one another
"So, how do you get a social life with what you've got going here?" I'd grabbed us another couple of bottles of beer as our exchange continued. He'd set his down and reached to lean his weight on the hands he'd placed on the floorboards of the porch behind him. One of which was so close to my ass I could feel it's heat in the smidgeon of exposed skin between my jeans and top.
"Social life? What's that?" I asked, propping an elbow on a knee and resting my head in my hand as I twisted to look at him.
"You don't date?"
I shook my head.
"Never?"
"A long, long time ago." I hated to have to admit it, but it had to be said. "As you know, I've got responsibilities."
He nodded and turned his eyes to the street. "So, you're not seeing anyone?"
"No." My answer was quick and
"To parents healthy enough to enjoy each other," he toasted giving me the gift of the dimples again.
I clanked my bottle gently against his and felt my own smile spread since I hadn't quite looked at my parent's behavior in that light before. "Damn straight."
The sounds of cicadas and crickets filled the silence of the night and it was an easy stillness which I found unusual. I'd discovered most people didn't enjoy quiet and tended to have a need to fill the air with talk even if whatever they said meant shit-all.
But Trey didn't and I wondered how much quiet time a busy guy like him actually got in a given day.
"Tell me something, Dallas. Tell me something about you that I can't find on your resume or credit report." His voice wasn't demanding but curious. And it was that note of curiosity that had me wanting to open up to him, to hand him another piece or two of me.
"I hate green vegetables," I breathed after thinking for a minute. "I know I'm supposed to eat them, that they're all good for me and stuff. But I abhor them. Broccoli, spinach, asparagus…god, even damn green beans. Hate them and lie to everybody when they're served."
I felt his eyes on me before I heard it start. A deep wonderful laugh that seemed to begin at his toes and roam up the long length of him to explode out of his mouth in waves. Dark, delicious waves of laughter that were so rich, deep and right that I couldn't help but laugh along with him. Not that what I said was all that funny. But for whatever reason at that moment, it had both of us in stitches. When we were down to simple chuckles, I gave it right back. "Your turn."
"Me? You want to know about me?" He sounded amazed at my inquisitiveness in him and I got a shoulder nudge along with his question. "Uhm. Let's see." He stretched his long, long legs out, the heels of his boots hitting the walkway as he thought.
"I've never worn a tie. Wouldn't know where to even start if I had to do one up. Unless the fucking thing's a clip-on, it'd have to hang around my neck like some chick's fucking scarf."
Okay, now that was funny. Both the image of bad-ass Trey wearing a tie done in a standard knot and then of him wearing one that just hung from under his collar. Which set me off again, my deep belly chortles breaking into the insect's night song. I counted it as good that he again laughed with me. And when it died down enough for the cicadas and the crickets to be heard again, I found we were leaning together shoulder to shoulder. A move which didn't mean much in the whole man-woman scheme of things but there in that moment meant a lot to me.
"I like laughing with you, pretty girl," he said, bringing the bottle to his mouth and guzzling the last of what was in his bottle.
"Thanks, Trey. It's nice to have someone to laugh with." I brought my own drink to my lips only to find it empty. When was the last time I'd finished a beer? I didn't drink much but when I did, I was more of a bourbon-babe than beer-broad.
Our conversation meandered, moving in spits and starts, covering everything from restaurants to movies, debating trucks versus motorcycles and just talking and laughing as we opened up to one another
"So, how do you get a social life with what you've got going here?" I'd grabbed us another couple of bottles of beer as our exchange continued. He'd set his down and reached to lean his weight on the hands he'd placed on the floorboards of the porch behind him. One of which was so close to my ass I could feel it's heat in the smidgeon of exposed skin between my jeans and top.
"Social life? What's that?" I asked, propping an elbow on a knee and resting my head in my hand as I twisted to look at him.
"You don't date?"
I shook my head.
"Never?"
"A long, long time ago." I hated to have to admit it, but it had to be said. "As you know, I've got responsibilities."
He nodded and turned his eyes to the street. "So, you're not seeing anyone?"
"No." My answer was quick and
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