The Beau & The Belle by Grey R.S

Author:Grey, R.S. [Grey, R.S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: R.S. Grey
Published: 2018-01-31T16:00:00+00:00

LATER THAT WEEK, I head out to visit my mom. The place is long overdue for some routine TLC, so I’ve been doing odd jobs every chance I get. The deck needs to be fixed up, and the roof is leaking. There’s enough to do that I should hire a crew to make the repairs, but I won’t. I’m not comfortable sending strangers out when my mom lives alone, and besides, I sit behind a desk under fluorescent lights all week. I like coming out here and using my hands, breaking a sweat; it’s good for the soul. I brought Russ out here with me one time and I swear he shed a tear when he got a splinter. Some people aren’t cut out for manual labor.

“Do you want some iced tea?” my mom calls from the deck.

I use my hand to shield my eyes from the sun. “How exactly are you going to get it to me?”

I’m up on the roof, replacing shingles.

She shrugs her shoulders. “Don’t forget, I used to be a waitress before I had you. I may be old, but I could probably still skip up that ladder holding a platter of drinks in each hand.”

I laugh and nod, adjusting the baseball hat on my head. There’s sweat dripping down my spine. The sun arcs high in the sky and even though it’s February, I’m only in jeans and a t-shirt. Later when I’m back home, I’ll turn my shower to the hottest setting and let it beat down on me, washing away the dirt and grime of the day.

I stay up on that roof all afternoon, hammering away and thinking. Every shingle I replace brings me a little more clarity about my situation with Lauren—at least that’s what I think at the time. When I make my way down the ladder and find my glass of iced tea waiting for me at the bottom, I realize I’m no closer to figuring out what sort of game Lauren is playing. I know there’s an attraction there. I can feel it, as clearly as a gust of wind rattling through the trees. She might have grown up, but those damn eyes are just as communicative as they’ve always been. She wanted me to kiss her in that apartment. Hell, she wanted me to do a lot more than that, and yet she’s fighting it.

Why?

“Have you seen this yet?” my mom asks, pushing open the screen door and stepping out onto the porch.

She’s holding up today’s paper.

I shake my head. “Most people just look at their phones these days.”

She ignores my taunt and holds it out to me. It’s opened to the society pages, and there in the top left corner is a pixelated black and white photo of Lauren and Preston. Apparently, he took her to a charity dinner the other night on their date. Bet that was fun.

She’s wearing a form-fitting gown. Her hair is pulled back again—tight, boring, not a curl in sight. It doesn’t matter though; even in newsprint, she’s beautiful.

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