“Do you want to stay?” I ask him. “I don’t know if you can leave Marilyn alone, but….” I stand near the bed and pull my shirt off. I’m definitely a bit tipsy because all I can concentrate on are the lines of Rex’s body and the way he’s looking at me—like I’m some kind of treat he lets himself have sometimes. He walks closer and I can smell the spicy pine scent from his woodshop. He runs his hands down my arms and pulls me into a hug.
“Thank you for coming tonight,” he says. “I know you weren’t crazy about the idea. And I know Will acts like a child sometimes. But he’s just defensive with new people, you know? Never wants to show his hand first.”
I like how Rex explains things, like he sees the truth in why people do things. Even shitty things. He rubs my back softly.
“You’re welcome.”
“I can stay,” he says, “if you want.” I nod against his shoulder and pull his shirt off, breathing in the smell of his skin.
“You’re so tired, baby,” he says. “And maybe a little tipsy?”
“Maybe a little,” I allow. “Sorry it’s so cold.”
“Isn’t the heat on yet?”
“Um. No.”
“Did you call Carl?”
I groan. I can’t believe I gave him that opening.
“Daniel!” he says. “It’s going to be really cold soon. You need to—”
I put my hand over his mouth.
“Do you need anything?” I ask, removing my hand.
“Can I use your toothpaste?”
I kiss him on the mouth.
“Mmm,” he says. “Can I use it from the tube?”
I nod, and pull my pants and socks off before getting into bed. This bed is shitty; I feel a little bad making Rex sleep on it, though I’ve definitely slept on worse. His bed is so comfortable. My mind is drifting, picturing us on a bed the size of a room, when Rex slides in beside me, and pulls me to him, nestling my head in his neck.
“Sorry my bed’s so uncomfortable,” I murmur.
“It’s worth it,” he says.
I swallow a lump in my throat and turn my face farther into him.
“I just like you so much,” I say. “How do you do that?”
And I think he answers, but I’m already sliding toward sleep.
Chapter 11
October
WHEN I get to Rex’s, he’s in his workshop, using a belt-sander on the surface of a tabletop, sawdust all over his chest and stomach and sticking to his sweaty arms.
“Damn,” I mutter, and he looks up, lifting the sander from the wood and pushing up his safety goggles.
“Hi,” he says, reaching for me, but pulling back when he realizes he’s all sweaty. I pull him down for a kiss and brush the sawdust off my chest. He looks fucking sexy.
In some ways, he’s the type of guy I’ve always been secretly attracted to: guys who could crush me as easily as the beer cans they swig from, wiping their hard mouths with the backs of dirty hands. But Rex is inclined less toward crushing and more toward putting back together. If only he could tinker me into shape as easily as one of his busted clocks.
“So, Leo should be here in a few minutes. We’ll just hang out in the yard, okay? Just ignore us and keep doing what you’re doing. It looks nice,” I add, looking down at the satiny wood of the tabletop.
“Thanks,” Rex says, running his hand over the grain. “Needs another pass.”
“Do you like Halloween?” I ask.
Rex cocks his head and shrugs.
“I really like old monster movies.” Of course he does. “Hey, I invited Will over for a beer while you guys are… training, okay?”
I nod. Will’s irritating, with his power plays and innuendos, but he’s not as bad as I thought. And he’s Rex’s friend. The only friend Rex seems to have. Of course, I didn’t know about him until recently, so who knows who else could come out of the woodwork.
“Hello?” Leo calls from outside. “Oh, hey,” he says. “Thought maybe I had the wrong house.” He’s wearing a battered army jacket and standing in the driveway with his skateboard propped on his foot.
“You can’t skateboard on these roads,” I say, confused. Leo blushes.
“Yeah, well, when you gave me the address I didn’t realize it was in the middle of the woods. It’s cool.”
“Oh, sorry,” I say. “Should we get started?”
Leo’s face goes slack as he looks over my shoulder. Rex has come out of his workshop looking like exactly the kind of hot carpenter fantasy that Leo was spinning the other day. His muscles are bulging under the worn T-shirt and jeans, his hair is messy, and he’s sweaty and covered in sawdust and curls of wood. Leo’s mouth falls open.
“Hi, Leo, I’m Rex.” He puts out his hand and it swallows Leo’s up. “Can I get you something?” he offers, gesturing toward the house, and I feel like a bad host.