Hello!

“My permanently single, grumpy-ass older brother drove a girl home last night. I’m not settling down.”

“Not a girl. She’s a woman.” 

Aaron let out a wordless shout, jostling Sy’s shoulder and plopping down on the table beside the fan, grinning even wider than before.

“Oh, there’s no way in hell I’m letting this shit go now. A woman, you say.”

Sy rolled his eyes.

“You gonna give me one of those?” he asked, jerking his chin toward the slowly melting popsicles. 

“Only as a bribe,” Aaron answered, ripping the perforated wrappers apart and holding one out tauntingly. 

“For what?”

“Information, dumbass.”

Sy snatched the popsicle  out of his hand, holding it behind his back when Aaron swatted at it. 

“Saw her walking home in the dark. Stopped to drive her home. Simple as that.” 

“Uh huh. And what earned her the distinction of ‘woman,’ I wonder.”

“She’s a grown-ass woman, that’s what,” Sy said bluntly, stepping out of Aaron’s reach to rip open the top of the popsicle wrapper. 

“Noticed her ass, did ya?”

Sy shot him an unimpressed look, breaking the top inch of frozen blue sugar into his mouth with a harsh bite and holding his hand out.

“Just give me the fuckin phone.”

“Five questions first,” Aaron argued.

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Go.” 

Aaron clapped in delight, taking a moment to think before launching into his limited interrogation.

“Did you smile?”

“Yep.”

“Did she make you laugh?”

“Yep.” 

Aaron smiled again, but this time there was no mischief tied up in it. He looked uncharacteristically sincere.

“Did you get her number?”

“Yes. Last one.”

He squinted thoughtfully.

“Butterflies?”

“Fuck off, Aaron.” 

“Oh, shit, that’s a yes!” But still he wasn’t teasing. His eyes were wide with surprise, his smile still genuine, not mocking.

“Phone.” 

“You could barely grow facial hair the last time you had butterflies! The good butterflies, anyway. Shit, I have so many more questions now.”

“I gave you four, and you asked four. Now, gimme the phone.”

Aaron slapped the phone into Sy’s open palm but kept a hold of the bottom.

“We’re talking about this later.”

“Fine. Don’t tell mom.”

“Fine.” And there was that familiar smile again, the one that rarely ended well for anyone. The little shit. 

Sy retreated to his office in the back of the garage, phone and popsicle in hand, before taking Ms. Bea off of hold. There was little to no chance she’d be able to hear him out on the floor.

“Hello.”

“Hi! Busy day today? Staying cool out there, I hope.”

“Doing my best, Ms. Bea. How are ya? That car of yours still treatin you right?”

“Oh, I’m alright. I haven’t driven in a few days, but as far as I know, it’s just fine.”

“If that changes, you let me know, okay?”

“I will!” There was a brief pause. “So listen! I hear you’re the one to thank for seeing my grandbaby home safe last night.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, I didn’t get this far in life leaving my debts unpaid. So you just come on down to the house when you’re through with work, and we’ll treat you to a nice dinner. How does that sound?”

“That’s a very generous offer, but you don’t owe me a thing, Ms. Bea. I didn’t know who she was when I stopped. I would’ve done the same for anyone walking that road at night.”

“Oh, I trust you would have, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve some gratitude, now does it?”

Sy shook his head. If he didn’t make an appearance tonight, Ms. Bea would only show up tomorrow with the promised dinner wrapped up in foil and glass containers. He knew better than to expect this to go away on its own. And honestly, if it afforded him the possibility of seeing you again, he may not want it to. 

“Well - ”

“Pardon me, dear. My phone is being stolen.”

Sy raised an eyebrow. There was a shuffling sound, a sigh, the closing of a door. Your voice came through, flustered and apologetic.

“I’m so sorry. I tried to talk her out of it, but the woman will not be denied.”

He smiled a little, imagining the look on your face.  

“That’s alright. I had a feelin’ something like this would happen.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just what happens around here. You do someone a favor, they find a way to thank you for it.”

“Oh… I did say thank you though, didn’t I?”

“You did,” he said through another smile. “That’s not what I meant though.”

“So you’re saying it really should be me offering you dinner?” you asked. “Did I accidentally cause a blood feud by not knowing that?”

“Just a short one. Couple decades, tops.” 

Your laugh sounded muffled, like you’d moved the phone down to your chest in an attempt to hide it. 

“So do I have your permission to come see you and Ms. Bea this evening?”

“Depends. Will there be a torch and pitchfork involved?”

“Nah. Lost ‘em both in a poker game.”

“What a shame.”

“That mean I’m in the clear?”

“Yeah, I guess you’d better come around. Especially considering I was sent on a separate grocery run specifically for this dinner.”

“I’d ask you not to go to too much trouble, but I have a feeling it’s not really up to you.”

“Rude but accurate. There’s a whole raw chicken out there. I’m mildly terrified.”

Just as he was opening his mouth to answer, the office door creaked open, letting in a flood of sound and one very stressed woman. 

“Sy!”

“Hold on one sec,” he said to you quickly before lowering the phone to his chest and raising his eyebrows in question.

“Someone up front wants to talk to you.”

Sy grimaced.

“Me specifically or a manager?”

“Manager.”

He gestured her out of the office then followed, eyes sweeping over the collection of cars and people. 

“Aaron!”

“Yeah?” he yelled from under a car Sy had been working on earlier. 

Sy crossed the garage impatiently, reaching down to drag him out from under the car by the ankle. 

“Pretty face up front.”

Aaron groaned.

“I was the pretty face last time!” he complained. “Why can’t you do it?”

“Never been pretty a day in my life.”

“Fuck you. You know there’s no good comeback for that.” 

“And I’m on the phone still. Get.”

“God damn it.” But he was already reaching up for Sy’s hand to haul him up to his feet. 

“Have fun,” Sy called after him before lifting the phone back to his ear. “Sorry about that.”

“No, that’s okay! I should probably let you go. You seem busy.”

“You got me out of talking to a customer. Far as I’m concerned, we can stay on the phone all damn day.” 

You laughed again, but this time you let him hear it.

“Does that mean you owe me a dinner now too?”

“We can talk about it,” Sy said with a smile, turning his back when one of his mechanics looked up curiously at his tone. 

“Either way, I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am. Can I bring anything?”

“Better not. We’ll be stuck in the thank you cycle forever.” 

That really didn’t sound like the worst thing, but he didn’t want to push you farther than he already was with this dinner tonight.

“Alright. I’ll uh… I’ll text you when I’m on my way then.”

“You mean to tell me you have my number?” you gasped. “How did that happen?”

“Some troublemaker gave it to me at the bar last night.”

“Interesting.” 

“I thought so. Haven’t had time to use it yet, but I was planning on it.”

“Very interesting… Well, I’ll let you go now. See you at dinner.”

“Lookin forward to it.” 

Sy tried to keep himself occupied all day, tried not to leave his mind free to dwell on you or try to predict how this dinner would go. Tried not to let himself be cornered by Aaron. Again. 

He took off a little early, running home for a shower and a change into something nicer than a stained t-shirt before heading your way. Though his warning text had prompted you to share your grandmother’s address, Sy didn’t need it. The town was small enough, and he’d been down to the house before, a couple of times, to drive Ms. Bea to church when her car had been out of commission. But he’d never been inside before, or even past the gate. 

By the time Sy’s shoes hit the driveway pavement, you were rounding the corner of the house in a pale green sundress and a clunky pair of slippers several sizes too big for your feet. Confident, as you had every right to be despite the footwear, but maybe a little flustered too. 

“Well, hello,” he said with a small smile. He let himself look you over, let you see him look you over, but only for a second. Before he could pay you an appropriately polite compliment, you blurted out,

“I didn’t wear this for you. Just so you know.”

Sy’s eyebrows rose along with his hands. It had honestly never occurred to him that you might have worn it for him. But three times was enough to pick up the pattern. Walls up at first greeting. He had to earn your ease again.

“I know you didn’t,” he said quietly, keeping his eyes on yours. “Known Ms. Bea long enough that I’d call her an ambulance if I ever saw her in a pair of jeans.” 

The corner of your mouth twitched up for a second, and you took a breath, rolled your shoulders. 

“Yeah… Sorry, I just…”

“You’re not used to this,” Sy offered with an easy shrug, lowering his hands again.

“I’m not,” you agreed. “I don’t introduce people to my grandmother. Ever. And definitely not…” You glanced over your shoulder towards the windows, lowering your voice slightly. “Definitely not a man I was flirting with the night before.”

“Did you flirt with me? Can’t recall. Where was I when all that was going on?

You rolled your eyes, more tension leaving your shoulders.

“You know I did.”

“Now, let’s see…” Sy said, running a hand over his beard in a way that earned him a real smile this time. “I remember you making fun of my handwriting. Making fun of my pickup lines. Threatening me with a knife.”

“I didn’t threaten you with a knife,” you laughed. 

Sy smiled at the sound. Now he was getting somewhere.

“No? So that was you flirtin’ then?”

“Must have been. Couldn’t be when I asked for your number.”

“Nah, I asked first.”

“No, you didn’t!”

“In my own way.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, but the smile was still there. Like you knew what he was doing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be annoyed by it. 

“Well, anyway,” Sy continued. “You’re not introducing me because I already know your grandma. And I’m well aware that I’m here on her invitation, not yours. So when I tell you that you look nice, it’s just an observation. No motive behind it beyond the fact that I think you ought to hear it.”

A couple of rapid blinks in surprise, a deep breath, a slow nod.

“Well… Thank you.”

Sy nodded back, and then you were turning in a pretty flutter of skirts, heading back towards the gate with a call for him to follow. 

“Rules of the house. No cursing. No wandering unsupervised. And dinner guests don’t enter the kitchen for any reason ever,” you listed, closing the gate behind him.

“Got it.”

“One more thing. Nana takes hosting extremely seriously and therefore takes my hosting extremely seriously. A lot of pageantry went into this evening. But despite all of that, rest assured you are not being husband hunted.”

“Should’ve left the ring at home then, huh?” 

“Don’t even let her hear that,” you warned with a grimace.

“Wouldn’t let me leave?”

“On the contrary. She’d light the house on fire just to get you out of it.” 

“Well now you’re just hurtin my feelings.” 

You rolled your eyes, the corner of your mouth tugging up in a reluctant smile.

“Don’t go feeling special. She’d do that to anyone she thought was proposing to me.” 

You spun around again, as graceful as you could manage to be in oversized slippers on pebbledash, and Sy smiled at the extra, intentional swish in your skirt as you led him to the back door.

“Ready?” you asked, hand pausing on the handle.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the dogs,” you said breezily as you opened the screen door. 

You were ambushed the second you walked through the door. There was a small black terrier, hopping around on two feet, desperate for your attention, and following behind at a slower pace was the largest boxer that Sy had ever seen.

“Hi, Bertie. Go make a friend,” you said softly, ruffling the small dog’s ears and shooing her gently away from you as you stepped to the side to intercept the dog that was staring down Sy with laser focus. 

Bertie came hopping up to Sy, bright pink tongue lolling out from her underbite as she braced her front feet on his shin. 

“Pleased to meet ya, little miss,” he said with a smile, crouching slowly to give her the attention she was seeking. She was a sweet one, falling all over herself to love on him.

A sharp whistle drew both Sy and Bertie’s attention, but you remained focused on the boxer, who had been leaning around you to take a peek at him.

“Brass,” you said firmly when the dog’s attention was back on you. “He’s okay.” 

Brass let out an unconvinced grumble, going back to monitor Sy until you snapped your fingers. 

“Hey. Look at me,” you said firmly. “He’s okay. Be nice. And I promise you can help me run him off if he misbehaves.” 

You held out your hand, and Brass sat just long enough to offer you her large paw. You shook it gently, laughing at the baleful eyes she was still giving you.

“Can she perform a routine inspection?” you asked over your shoulder. 

“Of course,” Sy said, sitting all the way down on the kitchen floor. 

“Be nice,” you reminded Brass as you stepped aside to let her pass. 

Sy kept still, leaving his hands open and palm up as Brass made a slow circuit around him, sniffing diligently. Up close, she was even more impressive, one of the most solid and imposing dogs he’d ever seen, not yet softening with the age that had a few greys growing around her mouth and eyes. Brass completed her loop quickly, stopping in front of him to stare at him just a little longer.

“Ma’am,” he greeted quietly, and he saw you smiling as you called her back over to you. 

“Got yourself a real guard dog, don’t you?” Sy asked, watching as Brass bumped your hand with her nose before retreating to lay in the archway between the kitchen and living room. 

“Oh yes. The General takes her job very seriously. And she’s not a fan of men. Try not to take it personally.” 

“Ms. Bea named her General Brass?” he asked with a smile. “Or do you just want a dog to outrank me to prove a point?”

“How dare you,” you gasped. “I’ll have you know we named her General Brass Knuckles together.” 

“Well, now I know you’re lyin,” he laughed.

“I would never - Nana!” you called as your grandmother finally entered the kitchen. “Tell Sy what Brass’s full name is.” 

“General Brass Knuckles. Why?” she said, holding a hand out to Sy as she approached with a welcoming smile. 

“Your granddaughter likes to tease me,” he said, squeezing her hand gently in greeting. “It’s good to see you, Ms. Bea.” 

“She’ll do that. But I happen to think it’s a wonderful name. Suits her. She’s tough like me and like my granddaughter.” Ms. Bea squeezed his hand back. “Did you come hungry?”

“Yes, ma’am, I did.”

“Good! Go on and sit. Table’s already set.” 

Set very nicely too. Cloth napkins and the fancy salt and pepper shakers. Matching serving dishes. Ms. Bea didn’t do anything by half measures. 

Sy took the seat you gestured to, hesitating just long enough for you and your grandmother to sit before he did. 

The way you’d spoken on the phone made it sound like this was an unfamiliar process to you, but it didn’t show. You began serving and passing food smoothly, your expression pleasant but neutral as Ms. Bea took the lead on conversation.

“How’s your family? We’re getting lots of sun this summer. Your mama’s garden must be a vision.”

“She sends me pictures every day,” Sy said with a polite smile. “And she’s been doing her research, trying to figure out what to put in the greenhouse now it’s finished.”

“I think that woman could plant just about anything and make it grow. She has a real gift.”

“That was the plan. As long as she gets some use out of it, I’ll be happy.”

“Wait, did you build a greenhouse?” you cut in curiously, pausing with a forkful of roasted potatoes halfway to your mouth. 

“Not as hard as it sounds,” Sy said, chancing a wink when you squinted skeptically at him. 

“I doubt that very much,” Ms. Bea said mildly, making you laugh. “And your grandmother? She still living out there in the country on her own?”

“Nana, this is out there in the country.” 

“Alright, city girl,” she said, patting your cheek as your mouth dropped open in surprise.

“You were literally born in Brooklyn.”

“Were you really?” Sy asked, surprised. She sure didn’t sound like it, never had to his memory. Her accent was soft, but it was there, syrupy and southern like every other elderly woman in town. 

“A lifetime ago,” Ms. Bea said with a secretive little smile. “Wouldn’t recognize it now.” 

“With how many pictures I sent you last month?” you challenged with a fond smile. “You know, you could come with me next time I go.” 

“You don’t need an old lady slowing you down.” The look she gave you put an end to that conversation, and you raised your hands slightly in surrender. “Now, you still owe me news of my old friend.”

Sy nodded as her attention turned back on him.

“She’s doing alright. Gonna head up that way tomorrow to fix her air conditioner.”

“Okay, seriously? You can build a greenhouse and fix an air conditioner?” 

You almost sounded irritated, and Sy tried not to smile.

“Oh this man can fix just about everything,” Ms. Bea said.

“Wow,” you said mildly, smiling around a sip of water. “Take that compliment and run. I’ve never heard her speak so highly of a man in my life.”

“Oh, hush. Yes, you have,” your grandmother said in a no-nonsense tone.

Hush, Sy mouthed at you with mock sternness when you glanced his way. Your eyes narrowed playfully, and you kicked at his shin under the table. 

“How are those brothers of yours?”

“Oooo brothers. Now that’s interesting.” And that grin you were wearing was specifically designed to get a rise out of him. Sy eyed you, watching that smile widen just a touch before he turned his attention back to Ms. Bea. 

“They’re doing good. Jimmy’s teaching summer school. Aaron’s just the same as always. But he has been eating instant potatoes for lunch every day if you want to have a word with him about it.”

Ms. Bea gave him a knowing look, her pursed lips relaxed into a smile that verged on mischievous.

“I certainly will. That boy get a haircut yet?”

“No, ma’am. Past his shoulders now when it’s not tied up.”

You hummed with interest.

“Did he steal all of yours?”

Ms. Bea let out half a surprised laugh before she pressed a napkin to her lips demurely, regaining her composure. You were staring at him, eyes bright with amusement and challenge as he shook his head slowly at you, huffing a laugh through his nose. 

“Now don’t go giving him too hard a time,” Ms. Bea said before Sy could respond. “He did you a good turn last night.”

“He did,” you agreed.

“You should have seen it before he started cutting it all off. Just as soft and curly as anything.”

“Like a poodle,” you supplied, looking him over with a poorly-suppressed grin, as if trying to imagine it.

“You wicked thing,” Ms. Bea said with a little grin, nudging you with her elbow. “He looked just exactly like a porcelain doll when he was younger.”

Sy took a breath, wishing Ms. Bea would kindly stop digging his grave as your smile grew.

“Oh, really? Do you have any pictures?”

“I’m sure I do. Somewhere.” She squinted thoughtfully towards the living room. “In the old Christmas cards if nowhere else.”

“You’re really not giving up on that, are you?” he sighed.

“Absolutely not,” you answered. “I might have before, but a porcelain doll? Come on, now. I’m not walking away from that.”

Ms. Bea shot you a curious look but didn’t comment, guiding the three of you to a different subject with the confident ease of someone who had been navigating the passive aggressive waters of southern social life for decades. 

Things carried on that way for quite a while: Ms. Bea asking polite questions and you finding ways to subtly or not-so-subtly tease him. 

The plates had long been clear when Brass interrupted the conversation with a single, sharp warning bark, rising from her position in the doorway to bully her way behind the blinds on the nearest kitchen window. Sy heard it a few seconds later: a car making the turn onto the long driveway.

“Were you expecting anyone else?” you asked, glancing to your grandmother with a frown.

When Ms. Bea shook her head, Sy leaned back in his chair, moving his head to the side until he caught a glimpse through the window over the sink.

“Little blue Toyota, looks like.” 

Ms. Bea rose quickly, her lips pursed to the point of disappearing.

“Darling, would you take our guest out to the pool house so he can pick a drink for the road? I’d like a private word with your cousin.” 

Your eyebrows raised, but you nodded wordlessly, grabbing at Sy’s arm as you stood from the table. He followed your lead, letting you tug him along out the back door.

“Poor Kat,” you said once the door closed behind you. 

“Well, she did leave you stranded,” Sy said quietly. 

“Turned out okay,” you said with a shrug, dropping your hand back to your side when you caught his eyes. 

Sy held your gaze with an easy nod, not pulling back or looking away until you took a flustered breath and tilted your head to the side.

“Let’s get out of here before the fireworks start, huh?”

You hopped off the porch steps, following the end of the driveway to a small carport that backed into an even smaller outbuilding. A later addition, it looked like. Several decades newer than the house. 

“You gonna tell me why we’re calling this a pool house? Not seeing a pool anywhere.”

“Patience,” you huffed, skirting around the two cars that were squeezed together beneath the carport. 

You paused at the door, bouncing lightly on your feet as if to gather some nerve.

“Alright, full disclosure, sometimes a lizard or a snake gets in here. And if I open this door and see a snake, I will either fully abandon you to deal with that shit by yourself or climb you like a tree.”

And there were all sorts of things he could say to that, but he chose to keep his damn mouth shut and nod instead. 

You led the way into the tiny building, wading through air that somehow felt even hotter than it had outside. After a second of endearingly impatient flailing, you caught hold of the thin chain hanging from the light on the ceiling, turning it on with a swift tug. 

It didn’t do much for the space, which remained dim and dusty. There was very little room to walk, a thin avenue of clear concrete circled a large tarped object in the center of the room. Boxes, folding chairs and tables, and a long abandoned workbench lined the back wall. To the left, nearly overlapping the door, was a refrigerator and large separate freezer.  

“Pool table,” you said, lifting up a corner of the tarp to reveal a glossy wood corner. 

Sy smiled a little. 

“Pool house. Cute.” 

“We’re unbearably adorable. We can’t help it,” you said breezily, turning away from him to open the refrigerator door. “Adorable and overstocked with beverages.” 

Every Coke product known to man filled the fridge, accented by bottles of peach tea and cans of lemonade. And…

“Are those Capri-Suns?”

Your eyes widened when you followed his gaze to the three shiny pouches tucked away on the bottom shelf. 

“Huh…” you said softly, turning one over in your hand to check the expiration date. “Why does she even have these?”

“Gotta have all the bases covered, I guess.” 

You hummed, turning your head to look up at him. For half a second, you seemed a little startled at his proximity, blinking rapidly and taking a sharp breath. Sy was doing his best not to crowd you, but there honestly wasn’t enough room for personal space. When he tried to back off a little, all he really managed to do was hip check the pool table and throw off his balance, shrinking the distance even more when you grabbed a handful of his shirt in a quick attempt to steady him. 

There was a pause, neither of you daring to take a breath. The hot, still air of the tiny outbuilding seemed to draw in a little closer, barely cut by the draft from the open refrigerator. 

“Um…” You blinked hard, pulling your hand away like he’d burned you, shuffling to the side to earn a few precious inches of space. 

“Sorry,” he said softly, belatedly. 

“S’okay…” You shook your head a little. “Uh, do you want…?” 

You lifted the little juice pouch still in your hand.

“Sure.” 

It took further rearranging to get the refrigerator door closed again, and Sy tried not to feel too bad at the speed with which you rushed from the building. 

The open air seemed to soothe you a little, the sight of you rolling your shoulders with a deep breath greeting Sy when his eyes readjusted to the bright sunlight. 

That playful confidence crept back over you, a little more tentative but still a sight to see. 

“Are you qualified to open one of these?” you asked, tossing Sy his juice. “Don’t know how much experience you’ve got.”

“Plenty,” Sy said, arching a brow at the smirk that set across your face. “Said what I said.” 

You laughed, reaching to pull the plastic-wrapped straw from the back of the pouch. 

“You sure? You can’t brute force it, ya know. You’ll just stab through both sides and end up with a mess. It takes finesse.”

“I can do finesse.”

He took the straw back from you, making smooth and efficient work of pushing it through the clear plastic circle at the top of the pouch. He took a smug sip, earning a grin from you as you raised your hands in surrender.

“Fine, fine. You have the dexterity of an eight year old. I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“No winning with you, is there?”

“No, sir!” you said proudly, glancing quickly towards the back door at the sound of raised voices, your smile fading slightly. “Guess I should escort you to safety.”

You plucked lightly at his sleeve as you headed back towards the gate where his truck was parked. He followed, falling into step beside you.

“Sure you don’t need backup?” 

Through a gap in the curtain, Sy caught sight of Kat, her face pinched, arms crossed. 

“Oh, I’m not going back in there,” you scoffed. “I’ll walk a lap of the neighborhood or something. Go sit by the pond for a bit, maybe.”

Sy hesitated, his steps slowing.

“I could - We could go somewhere, if you want. Give them time to cool off a little.”

You glanced at him curiously.

“Go where?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Wherever. Get a drink or something.”

“Two nights in a row? The town would implode.”

He smiled a little, leaned against the door of his truck. 

“That’s not a no.”

You shot him a look, mouth twisted up in something that looked very promisingly like indecision.

“Should be a no. Wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”

“What’s the wrong idea?”

You let out a slow breath.

“You know I’m only going to be around a couple weeks.”

He hummed, standing up straight again.

“Doesn’t have to be a drink. Could just go for a drive. No getting any wrong ideas about a drive.”

“No wrong ideas about sunset on a backroad?”

Sy cleared his throat.

“No ma’am. We’re in for a platonic sunset tonight. It told me so.”

You laughed, but there was something a little sad in it. 

“Drink your juice and get outta here before I do something stupid, please.”

Sy knew better than to push, but damn if he didn’t like the sound of that. 

“Yeah, alright.” 

You made no attempt to mask the once-over you gave him as he got into the driver’s seat. He risked holding out his hand one last time, rolling down the window before closing the door. 

“Mind if I use that number you gave me? Sometime.”

“I think you’d better.”

He smiled at that, let it be a full one, earned himself a smile back. 

“I’ll do that then. Thank you for dinner.”

“You’re welcome.”

Sy lingered a moment longer, taking in the sight of you barefoot on the driveway, a late summer breeze making the hem of your dress dance lazily around your legs. 

You shook your head at him, shooing him away with a smile.

As he pulled out of the driveway, he could see you still standing at the gate, watching him until the truck tail lights were out of sight.

*****

A/N: Thank you for reading! I've really missed this story. Would love, love, LOVE to hear what you think.

“My permanently single, grumpy-ass older brother drove a girl home last night. I’m not settling down.”

“Not a girl. She’s a woman.” 

Aaron let out a wordless shout, jostling Sy’s shoulder and plopping down on the table beside the fan, grinning even wider than before.

“Oh, there’s no way in hell I’m letting this shit go now. A woman, you say.”

Sy rolled his eyes.

“You gonna give me one of those?” he asked, jerking his chin toward the slowly melting popsicles. 

“Only as a bribe,” Aaron answered, ripping the perforated wrappers apart and holding one out tauntingly. 

“For what?”

“Information, dumbass.”

Sy snatched the popsicle  out of his hand, holding it behind his back when Aaron swatted at it. 

“Saw her walking home in the dark. Stopped to drive her home. Simple as that.” 

“Uh huh. And what earned her the distinction of ‘woman,’ I wonder.”

“She’s a grown-ass woman, that’s what,” Sy said bluntly, stepping out of Aaron’s reach to rip open the top of the popsicle wrapper. 

“Noticed her ass, did ya?”

Sy shot him an unimpressed look, breaking the top inch of frozen blue sugar into his mouth with a harsh bite and holding his hand out.

“Just give me the fuckin phone.”

“Five questions first,” Aaron argued.

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Go.” 

Aaron clapped in delight, taking a moment to think before launching into his limited interrogation.

“Did you smile?”

“Yep.”

“Did she make you laugh?”

“Yep.” 

Aaron smiled again, but this time there was no mischief tied up in it. He looked uncharacteristically sincere.

“Did you get her number?”

“Yes. Last one.”

He squinted thoughtfully.

“Butterflies?”

“Fuck off, Aaron.” 

“Oh, shit, that’s a yes!” But still he wasn’t teasing. His eyes were wide with surprise, his smile still genuine, not mocking.

“Phone.” 

“You could barely grow facial hair the last time you had butterflies! The good butterflies, anyway. Shit, I have so many more questions now.”

“I gave you four, and you asked four. Now, gimme the phone.”

Aaron slapped the phone into Sy’s open palm but kept a hold of the bottom.

“We’re talking about this later.”

“Fine. Don’t tell mom.”

“Fine.” And there was that familiar smile again, the one that rarely ended well for anyone. The little shit. 

Sy retreated to his office in the back of the garage, phone and popsicle in hand, before taking Ms. Bea off of hold. There was little to no chance she’d be able to hear him out on the floor.

“Hello.”

“Hi! Busy day today? Staying cool out there, I hope.”

“Doing my best, Ms. Bea. How are ya? That car of yours still treatin you right?”

“Oh, I’m alright. I haven’t driven in a few days, but as far as I know, it’s just fine.”

“If that changes, you let me know, okay?”

“I will!” There was a brief pause. “So listen! I hear you’re the one to thank for seeing my grandbaby home safe last night.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, I didn’t get this far in life leaving my debts unpaid. So you just come on down to the house when you’re through with work, and we’ll treat you to a nice dinner. How does that sound?”

“That’s a very generous offer, but you don’t owe me a thing, Ms. Bea. I didn’t know who she was when I stopped. I would’ve done the same for anyone walking that road at night.”

“Oh, I trust you would have, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve some gratitude, now does it?”

Sy shook his head. If he didn’t make an appearance tonight, Ms. Bea would only show up tomorrow with the promised dinner wrapped up in foil and glass containers. He knew better than to expect this to go away on its own. And honestly, if it afforded him the possibility of seeing you again, he may not want it to. 

“Well - ”

“Pardon me, dear. My phone is being stolen.”

Sy raised an eyebrow. There was a shuffling sound, a sigh, the closing of a door. Your voice came through, flustered and apologetic.

“I’m so sorry. I tried to talk her out of it, but the woman will not be denied.”

He smiled a little, imagining the look on your face.  

“That’s alright. I had a feelin’ something like this would happen.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just what happens around here. You do someone a favor, they find a way to thank you for it.”

“Oh… I did say thank you though, didn’t I?”

“You did,” he said through another smile. “That’s not what I meant though.”

“So you’re saying it really should be me offering you dinner?” you asked. “Did I accidentally cause a blood feud by not knowing that?”

“Just a short one. Couple decades, tops.” 

Your laugh sounded muffled, like you’d moved the phone down to your chest in an attempt to hide it. 

“So do I have your permission to come see you and Ms. Bea this evening?”

“Depends. Will there be a torch and pitchfork involved?”

“Nah. Lost ‘em both in a poker game.”

“What a shame.”

“That mean I’m in the clear?”

“Yeah, I guess you’d better come around. Especially considering I was sent on a separate grocery run specifically for this dinner.”

“I’d ask you not to go to too much trouble, but I have a feeling it’s not really up to you.”

“Rude but accurate. There’s a whole raw chicken out there. I’m mildly terrified.”

Just as he was opening his mouth to answer, the office door creaked open, letting in a flood of sound and one very stressed woman. 

“Sy!”

“Hold on one sec,” he said to you quickly before lowering the phone to his chest and raising his eyebrows in question.

“Someone up front wants to talk to you.”

Sy grimaced.

“Me specifically or a manager?”

“Manager.”

He gestured her out of the office then followed, eyes sweeping over the collection of cars and people. 

“Aaron!”

“Yeah?” he yelled from under a car Sy had been working on earlier. 

Sy crossed the garage impatiently, reaching down to drag him out from under the car by the ankle. 

“Pretty face up front.”

Aaron groaned.

“I was the pretty face last time!” he complained. “Why can’t you do it?”

“Never been pretty a day in my life.”

“Fuck you. You know there’s no good comeback for that.” 

“And I’m on the phone still. Get.”

“God damn it.” But he was already reaching up for Sy’s hand to haul him up to his feet. 

“Have fun,” Sy called after him before lifting the phone back to his ear. “Sorry about that.”

“No, that’s okay! I should probably let you go. You seem busy.”

“You got me out of talking to a customer. Far as I’m concerned, we can stay on the phone all damn day.” 

You laughed again, but this time you let him hear it.

“Does that mean you owe me a dinner now too?”

“We can talk about it,” Sy said with a smile, turning his back when one of his mechanics looked up curiously at his tone. 

“Either way, I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am. Can I bring anything?”

“Better not. We’ll be stuck in the thank you cycle forever.” 

That really didn’t sound like the worst thing, but he didn’t want to push you farther than he already was with this dinner tonight.

“Alright. I’ll uh… I’ll text you when I’m on my way then.”

“You mean to tell me you have my number?” you gasped. “How did that happen?”

“Some troublemaker gave it to me at the bar last night.”

“Interesting.” 

“I thought so. Haven’t had time to use it yet, but I was planning on it.”

“Very interesting… Well, I’ll let you go now. See you at dinner.”

“Lookin forward to it.” 

Sy tried to keep himself occupied all day, tried not to leave his mind free to dwell on you or try to predict how this dinner would go. Tried not to let himself be cornered by Aaron. Again. 

He took off a little early, running home for a shower and a change into something nicer than a stained t-shirt before heading your way. Though his warning text had prompted you to share your grandmother’s address, Sy didn’t need it. The town was small enough, and he’d been down to the house before, a couple of times, to drive Ms. Bea to church when her car had been out of commission. But he’d never been inside before, or even past the gate. 

By the time Sy’s shoes hit the driveway pavement, you were rounding the corner of the house in a pale green sundress and a clunky pair of slippers several sizes too big for your feet. Confident, as you had every right to be despite the footwear, but maybe a little flustered too. 

“Well, hello,” he said with a small smile. He let himself look you over, let you see him look you over, but only for a second. Before he could pay you an appropriately polite compliment, you blurted out,

“I didn’t wear this for you. Just so you know.”

Sy’s eyebrows rose along with his hands. It had honestly never occurred to him that you might have worn it for him. But three times was enough to pick up the pattern. Walls up at first greeting. He had to earn your ease again.

“I know you didn’t,” he said quietly, keeping his eyes on yours. “Known Ms. Bea long enough that I’d call her an ambulance if I ever saw her in a pair of jeans.” 

The corner of your mouth twitched up for a second, and you took a breath, rolled your shoulders. 

“Yeah… Sorry, I just…”

“You’re not used to this,” Sy offered with an easy shrug, lowering his hands again.

“I’m not,” you agreed. “I don’t introduce people to my grandmother. Ever. And definitely not…” You glanced over your shoulder towards the windows, lowering your voice slightly. “Definitely not a man I was flirting with the night before.”

“Did you flirt with me? Can’t recall. Where was I when all that was going on?

You rolled your eyes, more tension leaving your shoulders.

“You know I did.”

“Now, let’s see…” Sy said, running a hand over his beard in a way that earned him a real smile this time. “I remember you making fun of my handwriting. Making fun of my pickup lines. Threatening me with a knife.”

“I didn’t threaten you with a knife,” you laughed. 

Sy smiled at the sound. Now he was getting somewhere.

“No? So that was you flirtin’ then?”

“Must have been. Couldn’t be when I asked for your number.”

“Nah, I asked first.”

“No, you didn’t!”

“In my own way.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, but the smile was still there. Like you knew what he was doing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be annoyed by it. 

“Well, anyway,” Sy continued. “You’re not introducing me because I already know your grandma. And I’m well aware that I’m here on her invitation, not yours. So when I tell you that you look nice, it’s just an observation. No motive behind it beyond the fact that I think you ought to hear it.”

A couple of rapid blinks in surprise, a deep breath, a slow nod.

“Well… Thank you.”

Sy nodded back, and then you were turning in a pretty flutter of skirts, heading back towards the gate with a call for him to follow. 

“Rules of the house. No cursing. No wandering unsupervised. And dinner guests don’t enter the kitchen for any reason ever,” you listed, closing the gate behind him.

“Got it.”

“One more thing. Nana takes hosting extremely seriously and therefore takes my hosting extremely seriously. A lot of pageantry went into this evening. But despite all of that, rest assured you are not being husband hunted.”

“Should’ve left the ring at home then, huh?” 

“Don’t even let her hear that,” you warned with a grimace.

“Wouldn’t let me leave?”

“On the contrary. She’d light the house on fire just to get you out of it.” 

“Well now you’re just hurtin my feelings.” 

You rolled your eyes, the corner of your mouth tugging up in a reluctant smile.

“Don’t go feeling special. She’d do that to anyone she thought was proposing to me.” 

You spun around again, as graceful as you could manage to be in oversized slippers on pebbledash, and Sy smiled at the extra, intentional swish in your skirt as you led him to the back door.

“Ready?” you asked, hand pausing on the handle.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the dogs,” you said breezily as you opened the screen door. 

You were ambushed the second you walked through the door. There was a small black terrier, hopping around on two feet, desperate for your attention, and following behind at a slower pace was the largest boxer that Sy had ever seen.

“Hi, Bertie. Go make a friend,” you said softly, ruffling the small dog’s ears and shooing her gently away from you as you stepped to the side to intercept the dog that was staring down Sy with laser focus. 

Bertie came hopping up to Sy, bright pink tongue lolling out from her underbite as she braced her front feet on his shin. 

“Pleased to meet ya, little miss,” he said with a smile, crouching slowly to give her the attention she was seeking. She was a sweet one, falling all over herself to love on him.

A sharp whistle drew both Sy and Bertie’s attention, but you remained focused on the boxer, who had been leaning around you to take a peek at him.

“Brass,” you said firmly when the dog’s attention was back on you. “He’s okay.” 

Brass let out an unconvinced grumble, going back to monitor Sy until you snapped your fingers. 

“Hey. Look at me,” you said firmly. “He’s okay. Be nice. And I promise you can help me run him off if he misbehaves.” 

You held out your hand, and Brass sat just long enough to offer you her large paw. You shook it gently, laughing at the baleful eyes she was still giving you.

“Can she perform a routine inspection?” you asked over your shoulder. 

“Of course,” Sy said, sitting all the way down on the kitchen floor. 

“Be nice,” you reminded Brass as you stepped aside to let her pass. 

Sy kept still, leaving his hands open and palm up as Brass made a slow circuit around him, sniffing diligently. Up close, she was even more impressive, one of the most solid and imposing dogs he’d ever seen, not yet softening with the age that had a few greys growing around her mouth and eyes. Brass completed her loop quickly, stopping in front of him to stare at him just a little longer.

“Ma’am,” he greeted quietly, and he saw you smiling as you called her back over to you. 

“Got yourself a real guard dog, don’t you?” Sy asked, watching as Brass bumped your hand with her nose before retreating to lay in the archway between the kitchen and living room. 

“Oh yes. The General takes her job very seriously. And she’s not a fan of men. Try not to take it personally.” 

“Ms. Bea named her General Brass?” he asked with a smile. “Or do you just want a dog to outrank me to prove a point?”

“How dare you,” you gasped. “I’ll have you know we named her General Brass Knuckles together.” 

“Well, now I know you’re lyin,” he laughed.

“I would never - Nana!” you called as your grandmother finally entered the kitchen. “Tell Sy what Brass’s full name is.” 

“General Brass Knuckles. Why?” she said, holding a hand out to Sy as she approached with a welcoming smile. 

“Your granddaughter likes to tease me,” he said, squeezing her hand gently in greeting. “It’s good to see you, Ms. Bea.” 

“She’ll do that. But I happen to think it’s a wonderful name. Suits her. She’s tough like me and like my granddaughter.” Ms. Bea squeezed his hand back. “Did you come hungry?”

“Yes, ma’am, I did.”

“Good! Go on and sit. Table’s already set.” 

Set very nicely too. Cloth napkins and the fancy salt and pepper shakers. Matching serving dishes. Ms. Bea didn’t do anything by half measures. 

Sy took the seat you gestured to, hesitating just long enough for you and your grandmother to sit before he did. 

The way you’d spoken on the phone made it sound like this was an unfamiliar process to you, but it didn’t show. You began serving and passing food smoothly, your expression pleasant but neutral as Ms. Bea took the lead on conversation.

“How’s your family? We’re getting lots of sun this summer. Your mama’s garden must be a vision.”

“She sends me pictures every day,” Sy said with a polite smile. “And she’s been doing her research, trying to figure out what to put in the greenhouse now it’s finished.”

“I think that woman could plant just about anything and make it grow. She has a real gift.”

“That was the plan. As long as she gets some use out of it, I’ll be happy.”

“Wait, did you build a greenhouse?” you cut in curiously, pausing with a forkful of roasted potatoes halfway to your mouth. 

“Not as hard as it sounds,” Sy said, chancing a wink when you squinted skeptically at him. 

“I doubt that very much,” Ms. Bea said mildly, making you laugh. “And your grandmother? She still living out there in the country on her own?”

“Nana, this is out there in the country.” 

“Alright, city girl,” she said, patting your cheek as your mouth dropped open in surprise.

“You were literally born in Brooklyn.”

“Were you really?” Sy asked, surprised. She sure didn’t sound like it, never had to his memory. Her accent was soft, but it was there, syrupy and southern like every other elderly woman in town. 

“A lifetime ago,” Ms. Bea said with a secretive little smile. “Wouldn’t recognize it now.” 

“With how many pictures I sent you last month?” you challenged with a fond smile. “You know, you could come with me next time I go.” 

“You don’t need an old lady slowing you down.” The look she gave you put an end to that conversation, and you raised your hands slightly in surrender. “Now, you still owe me news of my old friend.”

Sy nodded as her attention turned back on him.

“She’s doing alright. Gonna head up that way tomorrow to fix her air conditioner.”

“Okay, seriously? You can build a greenhouse and fix an air conditioner?” 

You almost sounded irritated, and Sy tried not to smile.

“Oh this man can fix just about everything,” Ms. Bea said.

“Wow,” you said mildly, smiling around a sip of water. “Take that compliment and run. I’ve never heard her speak so highly of a man in my life.”

“Oh, hush. Yes, you have,” your grandmother said in a no-nonsense tone.

Hush, Sy mouthed at you with mock sternness when you glanced his way. Your eyes narrowed playfully, and you kicked at his shin under the table. 

“How are those brothers of yours?”

“Oooo brothers. Now that’s interesting.” And that grin you were wearing was specifically designed to get a rise out of him. Sy eyed you, watching that smile widen just a touch before he turned his attention back to Ms. Bea. 

“They’re doing good. Jimmy’s teaching summer school. Aaron’s just the same as always. But he has been eating instant potatoes for lunch every day if you want to have a word with him about it.”

Ms. Bea gave him a knowing look, her pursed lips relaxed into a smile that verged on mischievous.

“I certainly will. That boy get a haircut yet?”

“No, ma’am. Past his shoulders now when it’s not tied up.”

You hummed with interest.

“Did he steal all of yours?”

Ms. Bea let out half a surprised laugh before she pressed a napkin to her lips demurely, regaining her composure. You were staring at him, eyes bright with amusement and challenge as he shook his head slowly at you, huffing a laugh through his nose. 

“Now don’t go giving him too hard a time,” Ms. Bea said before Sy could respond. “He did you a good turn last night.”

“He did,” you agreed.

“You should have seen it before he started cutting it all off. Just as soft and curly as anything.”

“Like a poodle,” you supplied, looking him over with a poorly-suppressed grin, as if trying to imagine it.

“You wicked thing,” Ms. Bea said with a little grin, nudging you with her elbow. “He looked just exactly like a porcelain doll when he was younger.”

Sy took a breath, wishing Ms. Bea would kindly stop digging his grave as your smile grew.

“Oh, really? Do you have any pictures?”

“I’m sure I do. Somewhere.” She squinted thoughtfully towards the living room. “In the old Christmas cards if nowhere else.”

“You’re really not giving up on that, are you?” he sighed.

“Absolutely not,” you answered. “I might have before, but a porcelain doll? Come on, now. I’m not walking away from that.”

Ms. Bea shot you a curious look but didn’t comment, guiding the three of you to a different subject with the confident ease of someone who had been navigating the passive aggressive waters of southern social life for decades. 

Things carried on that way for quite a while: Ms. Bea asking polite questions and you finding ways to subtly or not-so-subtly tease him. 

The plates had long been clear when Brass interrupted the conversation with a single, sharp warning bark, rising from her position in the doorway to bully her way behind the blinds on the nearest kitchen window. Sy heard it a few seconds later: a car making the turn onto the long driveway.

“Were you expecting anyone else?” you asked, glancing to your grandmother with a frown.

When Ms. Bea shook her head, Sy leaned back in his chair, moving his head to the side until he caught a glimpse through the window over the sink.

“Little blue Toyota, looks like.” 

Ms. Bea rose quickly, her lips pursed to the point of disappearing.

“Darling, would you take our guest out to the pool house so he can pick a drink for the road? I’d like a private word with your cousin.” 

Your eyebrows raised, but you nodded wordlessly, grabbing at Sy’s arm as you stood from the table. He followed your lead, letting you tug him along out the back door.

“Poor Kat,” you said once the door closed behind you. 

“Well, she did leave you stranded,” Sy said quietly. 

“Turned out okay,” you said with a shrug, dropping your hand back to your side when you caught his eyes. 

Sy held your gaze with an easy nod, not pulling back or looking away until you took a flustered breath and tilted your head to the side.

“Let’s get out of here before the fireworks start, huh?”

You hopped off the porch steps, following the end of the driveway to a small carport that backed into an even smaller outbuilding. A later addition, it looked like. Several decades newer than the house. 

“You gonna tell me why we’re calling this a pool house? Not seeing a pool anywhere.”

“Patience,” you huffed, skirting around the two cars that were squeezed together beneath the carport. 

You paused at the door, bouncing lightly on your feet as if to gather some nerve.

“Alright, full disclosure, sometimes a lizard or a snake gets in here. And if I open this door and see a snake, I will either fully abandon you to deal with that shit by yourself or climb you like a tree.”

And there were all sorts of things he could say to that, but he chose to keep his damn mouth shut and nod instead. 

You led the way into the tiny building, wading through air that somehow felt even hotter than it had outside. After a second of endearingly impatient flailing, you caught hold of the thin chain hanging from the light on the ceiling, turning it on with a swift tug. 

It didn’t do much for the space, which remained dim and dusty. There was very little room to walk, a thin avenue of clear concrete circled a large tarped object in the center of the room. Boxes, folding chairs and tables, and a long abandoned workbench lined the back wall. To the left, nearly overlapping the door, was a refrigerator and large separate freezer.  

“Pool table,” you said, lifting up a corner of the tarp to reveal a glossy wood corner. 

Sy smiled a little. 

“Pool house. Cute.” 

“We’re unbearably adorable. We can’t help it,” you said breezily, turning away from him to open the refrigerator door. “Adorable and overstocked with beverages.” 

Every Coke product known to man filled the fridge, accented by bottles of peach tea and cans of lemonade. And…

“Are those Capri-Suns?”

Your eyes widened when you followed his gaze to the three shiny pouches tucked away on the bottom shelf. 

“Huh…” you said softly, turning one over in your hand to check the expiration date. “Why does she even have these?”

“Gotta have all the bases covered, I guess.” 

You hummed, turning your head to look up at him. For half a second, you seemed a little startled at his proximity, blinking rapidly and taking a sharp breath. Sy was doing his best not to crowd you, but there honestly wasn’t enough room for personal space. When he tried to back off a little, all he really managed to do was hip check the pool table and throw off his balance, shrinking the distance even more when you grabbed a handful of his shirt in a quick attempt to steady him. 

There was a pause, neither of you daring to take a breath. The hot, still air of the tiny outbuilding seemed to draw in a little closer, barely cut by the draft from the open refrigerator. 

“Um…” You blinked hard, pulling your hand away like he’d burned you, shuffling to the side to earn a few precious inches of space. 

“Sorry,” he said softly, belatedly. 

“S’okay…” You shook your head a little. “Uh, do you want…?” 

You lifted the little juice pouch still in your hand.

“Sure.” 

It took further rearranging to get the refrigerator door closed again, and Sy tried not to feel too bad at the speed with which you rushed from the building. 

The open air seemed to soothe you a little, the sight of you rolling your shoulders with a deep breath greeting Sy when his eyes readjusted to the bright sunlight. 

That playful confidence crept back over you, a little more tentative but still a sight to see. 

“Are you qualified to open one of these?” you asked, tossing Sy his juice. “Don’t know how much experience you’ve got.”

“Plenty,” Sy said, arching a brow at the smirk that set across your face. “Said what I said.” 

You laughed, reaching to pull the plastic-wrapped straw from the back of the pouch. 

“You sure? You can’t brute force it, ya know. You’ll just stab through both sides and end up with a mess. It takes finesse.”

“I can do finesse.”

He took the straw back from you, making smooth and efficient work of pushing it through the clear plastic circle at the top of the pouch. He took a smug sip, earning a grin from you as you raised your hands in surrender.

“Fine, fine. You have the dexterity of an eight year old. I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“No winning with you, is there?”

“No, sir!” you said proudly, glancing quickly towards the back door at the sound of raised voices, your smile fading slightly. “Guess I should escort you to safety.”

You plucked lightly at his sleeve as you headed back towards the gate where his truck was parked. He followed, falling into step beside you.

“Sure you don’t need backup?” 

Through a gap in the curtain, Sy caught sight of Kat, her face pinched, arms crossed. 

“Oh, I’m not going back in there,” you scoffed. “I’ll walk a lap of the neighborhood or something. Go sit by the pond for a bit, maybe.”

Sy hesitated, his steps slowing.

“I could - We could go somewhere, if you want. Give them time to cool off a little.”

You glanced at him curiously.

“Go where?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Wherever. Get a drink or something.”

“Two nights in a row? The town would implode.”

He smiled a little, leaned against the door of his truck. 

“That’s not a no.”

You shot him a look, mouth twisted up in something that looked very promisingly like indecision.

“Should be a no. Wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”

“What’s the wrong idea?”

You let out a slow breath.

“You know I’m only going to be around a couple weeks.”

He hummed, standing up straight again.

“Doesn’t have to be a drink. Could just go for a drive. No getting any wrong ideas about a drive.”

“No wrong ideas about sunset on a backroad?”

Sy cleared his throat.

“No ma’am. We’re in for a platonic sunset tonight. It told me so.”

You laughed, but there was something a little sad in it. 

“Drink your juice and get outta here before I do something stupid, please.”

Sy knew better than to push, but damn if he didn’t like the sound of that. 

“Yeah, alright.” 

You made no attempt to mask the once-over you gave him as he got into the driver’s seat. He risked holding out his hand one last time, rolling down the window before closing the door. 

“Mind if I use that number you gave me? Sometime.”

“I think you’d better.”

He smiled at that, let it be a full one, earned himself a smile back. 

“I’ll do that then. Thank you for dinner.”

“You’re welcome.”

Sy lingered a moment longer, taking in the sight of you barefoot on the driveway, a late summer breeze making the hem of your dress dance lazily around your legs. 

You shook your head at him, shooing him away with a smile.

As he pulled out of the driveway, he could see you still standing at the gate, watching him until the truck tail lights were out of sight.

*****

A/N: Thank you for reading! I've really missed this story. Would love, love, LOVE to hear what you think.

“My permanently single, grumpy-ass older brother drove a girl home last night. I’m not settling down.”

“Not a girl. She’s a woman.” 

Aaron let out a wordless shout, jostling Sy’s shoulder and plopping down on the table beside the fan, grinning even wider than before.

“Oh, there’s no way in hell I’m letting this shit go now. A woman, you say.”

Sy rolled his eyes.

“You gonna give me one of those?” he asked, jerking his chin toward the slowly melting popsicles. 

“Only as a bribe,” Aaron answered, ripping the perforated wrappers apart and holding one out tauntingly. 

“For what?”

“Information, dumbass.”

Sy snatched the popsicle  out of his hand, holding it behind his back when Aaron swatted at it. 

“Saw her walking home in the dark. Stopped to drive her home. Simple as that.” 

“Uh huh. And what earned her the distinction of ‘woman,’ I wonder.”

“She’s a grown-ass woman, that’s what,” Sy said bluntly, stepping out of Aaron’s reach to rip open the top of the popsicle wrapper. 

“Noticed her ass, did ya?”

Sy shot him an unimpressed look, breaking the top inch of frozen blue sugar into his mouth with a harsh bite and holding his hand out.

“Just give me the fuckin phone.”

“Five questions first,” Aaron argued.

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Go.” 

Aaron clapped in delight, taking a moment to think before launching into his limited interrogation.

“Did you smile?”

“Yep.”

“Did she make you laugh?”

“Yep.” 

Aaron smiled again, but this time there was no mischief tied up in it. He looked uncharacteristically sincere.

“Did you get her number?”

“Yes. Last one.”

He squinted thoughtfully.

“Butterflies?”

“Fuck off, Aaron.” 

“Oh, shit, that’s a yes!” But still he wasn’t teasing. His eyes were wide with surprise, his smile still genuine, not mocking.

“Phone.” 

“You could barely grow facial hair the last time you had butterflies! The good butterflies, anyway. Shit, I have so many more questions now.”

“I gave you four, and you asked four. Now, gimme the phone.”

Aaron slapped the phone into Sy’s open palm but kept a hold of the bottom.

“We’re talking about this later.”

“Fine. Don’t tell mom.”

“Fine.” And there was that familiar smile again, the one that rarely ended well for anyone. The little shit. 

Sy retreated to his office in the back of the garage, phone and popsicle in hand, before taking Ms. Bea off of hold. There was little to no chance she’d be able to hear him out on the floor.

“Hello.”

“Hi! Busy day today? Staying cool out there, I hope.”

“Doing my best, Ms. Bea. How are ya? That car of yours still treatin you right?”

“Oh, I’m alright. I haven’t driven in a few days, but as far as I know, it’s just fine.”

“If that changes, you let me know, okay?”

“I will!” There was a brief pause. “So listen! I hear you’re the one to thank for seeing my grandbaby home safe last night.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, I didn’t get this far in life leaving my debts unpaid. So you just come on down to the house when you’re through with work, and we’ll treat you to a nice dinner. How does that sound?”

“That’s a very generous offer, but you don’t owe me a thing, Ms. Bea. I didn’t know who she was when I stopped. I would’ve done the same for anyone walking that road at night.”

“Oh, I trust you would have, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve some gratitude, now does it?”

Sy shook his head. If he didn’t make an appearance tonight, Ms. Bea would only show up tomorrow with the promised dinner wrapped up in foil and glass containers. He knew better than to expect this to go away on its own. And honestly, if it afforded him the possibility of seeing you again, he may not want it to. 

“Well - ”

“Pardon me, dear. My phone is being stolen.”

Sy raised an eyebrow. There was a shuffling sound, a sigh, the closing of a door. Your voice came through, flustered and apologetic.

“I’m so sorry. I tried to talk her out of it, but the woman will not be denied.”

He smiled a little, imagining the look on your face.  

“That’s alright. I had a feelin’ something like this would happen.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just what happens around here. You do someone a favor, they find a way to thank you for it.”

“Oh… I did say thank you though, didn’t I?”

“You did,” he said through another smile. “That’s not what I meant though.”

“So you’re saying it really should be me offering you dinner?” you asked. “Did I accidentally cause a blood feud by not knowing that?”

“Just a short one. Couple decades, tops.” 

Your laugh sounded muffled, like you’d moved the phone down to your chest in an attempt to hide it. 

“So do I have your permission to come see you and Ms. Bea this evening?”

“Depends. Will there be a torch and pitchfork involved?”

“Nah. Lost ‘em both in a poker game.”

“What a shame.”

“That mean I’m in the clear?”

“Yeah, I guess you’d better come around. Especially considering I was sent on a separate grocery run specifically for this dinner.”

“I’d ask you not to go to too much trouble, but I have a feeling it’s not really up to you.”

“Rude but accurate. There’s a whole raw chicken out there. I’m mildly terrified.”

Just as he was opening his mouth to answer, the office door creaked open, letting in a flood of sound and one very stressed woman. 

“Sy!”

“Hold on one sec,” he said to you quickly before lowering the phone to his chest and raising his eyebrows in question.

“Someone up front wants to talk to you.”

Sy grimaced.

“Me specifically or a manager?”

“Manager.”

He gestured her out of the office then followed, eyes sweeping over the collection of cars and people. 

“Aaron!”

“Yeah?” he yelled from under a car Sy had been working on earlier. 

Sy crossed the garage impatiently, reaching down to drag him out from under the car by the ankle. 

“Pretty face up front.”

Aaron groaned.

“I was the pretty face last time!” he complained. “Why can’t you do it?”

“Never been pretty a day in my life.”

“Fuck you. You know there’s no good comeback for that.” 

“And I’m on the phone still. Get.”

“God damn it.” But he was already reaching up for Sy’s hand to haul him up to his feet. 

“Have fun,” Sy called after him before lifting the phone back to his ear. “Sorry about that.”

“No, that’s okay! I should probably let you go. You seem busy.”

“You got me out of talking to a customer. Far as I’m concerned, we can stay on the phone all damn day.” 

You laughed again, but this time you let him hear it.

“Does that mean you owe me a dinner now too?”

“We can talk about it,” Sy said with a smile, turning his back when one of his mechanics looked up curiously at his tone. 

“Either way, I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am. Can I bring anything?”

“Better not. We’ll be stuck in the thank you cycle forever.” 

That really didn’t sound like the worst thing, but he didn’t want to push you farther than he already was with this dinner tonight.

“Alright. I’ll uh… I’ll text you when I’m on my way then.”

“You mean to tell me you have my number?” you gasped. “How did that happen?”

“Some troublemaker gave it to me at the bar last night.”

“Interesting.” 

“I thought so. Haven’t had time to use it yet, but I was planning on it.”

“Very interesting… Well, I’ll let you go now. See you at dinner.”

“Lookin forward to it.” 

Sy tried to keep himself occupied all day, tried not to leave his mind free to dwell on you or try to predict how this dinner would go. Tried not to let himself be cornered by Aaron. Again. 

He took off a little early, running home for a shower and a change into something nicer than a stained t-shirt before heading your way. Though his warning text had prompted you to share your grandmother’s address, Sy didn’t need it. The town was small enough, and he’d been down to the house before, a couple of times, to drive Ms. Bea to church when her car had been out of commission. But he’d never been inside before, or even past the gate. 

By the time Sy’s shoes hit the driveway pavement, you were rounding the corner of the house in a pale green sundress and a clunky pair of slippers several sizes too big for your feet. Confident, as you had every right to be despite the footwear, but maybe a little flustered too. 

“Well, hello,” he said with a small smile. He let himself look you over, let you see him look you over, but only for a second. Before he could pay you an appropriately polite compliment, you blurted out,

“I didn’t wear this for you. Just so you know.”

Sy’s eyebrows rose along with his hands. It had honestly never occurred to him that you might have worn it for him. But three times was enough to pick up the pattern. Walls up at first greeting. He had to earn your ease again.

“I know you didn’t,” he said quietly, keeping his eyes on yours. “Known Ms. Bea long enough that I’d call her an ambulance if I ever saw her in a pair of jeans.” 

The corner of your mouth twitched up for a second, and you took a breath, rolled your shoulders. 

“Yeah… Sorry, I just…”

“You’re not used to this,” Sy offered with an easy shrug, lowering his hands again.

“I’m not,” you agreed. “I don’t introduce people to my grandmother. Ever. And definitely not…” You glanced over your shoulder towards the windows, lowering your voice slightly. “Definitely not a man I was flirting with the night before.”

“Did you flirt with me? Can’t recall. Where was I when all that was going on?

You rolled your eyes, more tension leaving your shoulders.

“You know I did.”

“Now, let’s see…” Sy said, running a hand over his beard in a way that earned him a real smile this time. “I remember you making fun of my handwriting. Making fun of my pickup lines. Threatening me with a knife.”

“I didn’t threaten you with a knife,” you laughed. 

Sy smiled at the sound. Now he was getting somewhere.

“No? So that was you flirtin’ then?”

“Must have been. Couldn’t be when I asked for your number.”

“Nah, I asked first.”

“No, you didn’t!”

“In my own way.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, but the smile was still there. Like you knew what he was doing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be annoyed by it. 

“Well, anyway,” Sy continued. “You’re not introducing me because I already know your grandma. And I’m well aware that I’m here on her invitation, not yours. So when I tell you that you look nice, it’s just an observation. No motive behind it beyond the fact that I think you ought to hear it.”

A couple of rapid blinks in surprise, a deep breath, a slow nod.

“Well… Thank you.”

Sy nodded back, and then you were turning in a pretty flutter of skirts, heading back towards the gate with a call for him to follow. 

“Rules of the house. No cursing. No wandering unsupervised. And dinner guests don’t enter the kitchen for any reason ever,” you listed, closing the gate behind him.

“Got it.”

“One more thing. Nana takes hosting extremely seriously and therefore takes my hosting extremely seriously. A lot of pageantry went into this evening. But despite all of that, rest assured you are not being husband hunted.”

“Should’ve left the ring at home then, huh?” 

“Don’t even let her hear that,” you warned with a grimace.

“Wouldn’t let me leave?”

“On the contrary. She’d light the house on fire just to get you out of it.” 

“Well now you’re just hurtin my feelings.” 

You rolled your eyes, the corner of your mouth tugging up in a reluctant smile.

“Don’t go feeling special. She’d do that to anyone she thought was proposing to me.” 

You spun around again, as graceful as you could manage to be in oversized slippers on pebbledash, and Sy smiled at the extra, intentional swish in your skirt as you led him to the back door.

“Ready?” you asked, hand pausing on the handle.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the dogs,” you said breezily as you opened the screen door. 

You were ambushed the second you walked through the door. There was a small black terrier, hopping around on two feet, desperate for your attention, and following behind at a slower pace was the largest boxer that Sy had ever seen.

“Hi, Bertie. Go make a friend,” you said softly, ruffling the small dog’s ears and shooing her gently away from you as you stepped to the side to intercept the dog that was staring down Sy with laser focus. 

Bertie came hopping up to Sy, bright pink tongue lolling out from her underbite as she braced her front feet on his shin. 

“Pleased to meet ya, little miss,” he said with a smile, crouching slowly to give her the attention she was seeking. She was a sweet one, falling all over herself to love on him.

A sharp whistle drew both Sy and Bertie’s attention, but you remained focused on the boxer, who had been leaning around you to take a peek at him.

“Brass,” you said firmly when the dog’s attention was back on you. “He’s okay.” 

Brass let out an unconvinced grumble, going back to monitor Sy until you snapped your fingers. 

“Hey. Look at me,” you said firmly. “He’s okay. Be nice. And I promise you can help me run him off if he misbehaves.” 

You held out your hand, and Brass sat just long enough to offer you her large paw. You shook it gently, laughing at the baleful eyes she was still giving you.

“Can she perform a routine inspection?” you asked over your shoulder. 

“Of course,” Sy said, sitting all the way down on the kitchen floor. 

“Be nice,” you reminded Brass as you stepped aside to let her pass. 

Sy kept still, leaving his hands open and palm up as Brass made a slow circuit around him, sniffing diligently. Up close, she was even more impressive, one of the most solid and imposing dogs he’d ever seen, not yet softening with the age that had a few greys growing around her mouth and eyes. Brass completed her loop quickly, stopping in front of him to stare at him just a little longer.

“Ma’am,” he greeted quietly, and he saw you smiling as you called her back over to you. 

“Got yourself a real guard dog, don’t you?” Sy asked, watching as Brass bumped your hand with her nose before retreating to lay in the archway between the kitchen and living room. 

“Oh yes. The General takes her job very seriously. And she’s not a fan of men. Try not to take it personally.” 

“Ms. Bea named her General Brass?” he asked with a smile. “Or do you just want a dog to outrank me to prove a point?”

“How dare you,” you gasped. “I’ll have you know we named her General Brass Knuckles together.” 

“Well, now I know you’re lyin,” he laughed.

“I would never - Nana!” you called as your grandmother finally entered the kitchen. “Tell Sy what Brass’s full name is.” 

“General Brass Knuckles. Why?” she said, holding a hand out to Sy as she approached with a welcoming smile. 

“Your granddaughter likes to tease me,” he said, squeezing her hand gently in greeting. “It’s good to see you, Ms. Bea.” 

“She’ll do that. But I happen to think it’s a wonderful name. Suits her. She’s tough like me and like my granddaughter.” Ms. Bea squeezed his hand back. “Did you come hungry?”

“Yes, ma’am, I did.”

“Good! Go on and sit. Table’s already set.” 

Set very nicely too. Cloth napkins and the fancy salt and pepper shakers. Matching serving dishes. Ms. Bea didn’t do anything by half measures. 

Sy took the seat you gestured to, hesitating just long enough for you and your grandmother to sit before he did. 

The way you’d spoken on the phone made it sound like this was an unfamiliar process to you, but it didn’t show. You began serving and passing food smoothly, your expression pleasant but neutral as Ms. Bea took the lead on conversation.

“How’s your family? We’re getting lots of sun this summer. Your mama’s garden must be a vision.”

“She sends me pictures every day,” Sy said with a polite smile. “And she’s been doing her research, trying to figure out what to put in the greenhouse now it’s finished.”

“I think that woman could plant just about anything and make it grow. She has a real gift.”

“That was the plan. As long as she gets some use out of it, I’ll be happy.”

“Wait, did you build a greenhouse?” you cut in curiously, pausing with a forkful of roasted potatoes halfway to your mouth. 

“Not as hard as it sounds,” Sy said, chancing a wink when you squinted skeptically at him. 

“I doubt that very much,” Ms. Bea said mildly, making you laugh. “And your grandmother? She still living out there in the country on her own?”

“Nana, this is out there in the country.” 

“Alright, city girl,” she said, patting your cheek as your mouth dropped open in surprise.

“You were literally born in Brooklyn.”

“Were you really?” Sy asked, surprised. She sure didn’t sound like it, never had to his memory. Her accent was soft, but it was there, syrupy and southern like every other elderly woman in town. 

“A lifetime ago,” Ms. Bea said with a secretive little smile. “Wouldn’t recognize it now.” 

“With how many pictures I sent you last month?” you challenged with a fond smile. “You know, you could come with me next time I go.” 

“You don’t need an old lady slowing you down.” The look she gave you put an end to that conversation, and you raised your hands slightly in surrender. “Now, you still owe me news of my old friend.”

Sy nodded as her attention turned back on him.

“She’s doing alright. Gonna head up that way tomorrow to fix her air conditioner.”

“Okay, seriously? You can build a greenhouse and fix an air conditioner?” 

You almost sounded irritated, and Sy tried not to smile.

“Oh this man can fix just about everything,” Ms. Bea said.

“Wow,” you said mildly, smiling around a sip of water. “Take that compliment and run. I’ve never heard her speak so highly of a man in my life.”

“Oh, hush. Yes, you have,” your grandmother said in a no-nonsense tone.

Hush, Sy mouthed at you with mock sternness when you glanced his way. Your eyes narrowed playfully, and you kicked at his shin under the table. 

“How are those brothers of yours?”

“Oooo brothers. Now that’s interesting.” And that grin you were wearing was specifically designed to get a rise out of him. Sy eyed you, watching that smile widen just a touch before he turned his attention back to Ms. Bea. 

“They’re doing good. Jimmy’s teaching summer school. Aaron’s just the same as always. But he has been eating instant potatoes for lunch every day if you want to have a word with him about it.”

Ms. Bea gave him a knowing look, her pursed lips relaxed into a smile that verged on mischievous.

“I certainly will. That boy get a haircut yet?”

“No, ma’am. Past his shoulders now when it’s not tied up.”

You hummed with interest.

“Did he steal all of yours?”

Ms. Bea let out half a surprised laugh before she pressed a napkin to her lips demurely, regaining her composure. You were staring at him, eyes bright with amusement and challenge as he shook his head slowly at you, huffing a laugh through his nose. 

“Now don’t go giving him too hard a time,” Ms. Bea said before Sy could respond. “He did you a good turn last night.”

“He did,” you agreed.

“You should have seen it before he started cutting it all off. Just as soft and curly as anything.”

“Like a poodle,” you supplied, looking him over with a poorly-suppressed grin, as if trying to imagine it.

“You wicked thing,” Ms. Bea said with a little grin, nudging you with her elbow. “He looked just exactly like a porcelain doll when he was younger.”

Sy took a breath, wishing Ms. Bea would kindly stop digging his grave as your smile grew.

“Oh, really? Do you have any pictures?”

“I’m sure I do. Somewhere.” She squinted thoughtfully towards the living room. “In the old Christmas cards if nowhere else.”

“You’re really not giving up on that, are you?” he sighed.

“Absolutely not,” you answered. “I might have before, but a porcelain doll? Come on, now. I’m not walking away from that.”

Ms. Bea shot you a curious look but didn’t comment, guiding the three of you to a different subject with the confident ease of someone who had been navigating the passive aggressive waters of southern social life for decades. 

Things carried on that way for quite a while: Ms. Bea asking polite questions and you finding ways to subtly or not-so-subtly tease him. 

The plates had long been clear when Brass interrupted the conversation with a single, sharp warning bark, rising from her position in the doorway to bully her way behind the blinds on the nearest kitchen window. Sy heard it a few seconds later: a car making the turn onto the long driveway.

“Were you expecting anyone else?” you asked, glancing to your grandmother with a frown.

When Ms. Bea shook her head, Sy leaned back in his chair, moving his head to the side until he caught a glimpse through the window over the sink.

“Little blue Toyota, looks like.” 

Ms. Bea rose quickly, her lips pursed to the point of disappearing.

“Darling, would you take our guest out to the pool house so he can pick a drink for the road? I’d like a private word with your cousin.” 

Your eyebrows raised, but you nodded wordlessly, grabbing at Sy’s arm as you stood from the table. He followed your lead, letting you tug him along out the back door.

“Poor Kat,” you said once the door closed behind you. 

“Well, she did leave you stranded,” Sy said quietly. 

“Turned out okay,” you said with a shrug, dropping your hand back to your side when you caught his eyes. 

Sy held your gaze with an easy nod, not pulling back or looking away until you took a flustered breath and tilted your head to the side.

“Let’s get out of here before the fireworks start, huh?”

You hopped off the porch steps, following the end of the driveway to a small carport that backed into an even smaller outbuilding. A later addition, it looked like. Several decades newer than the house. 

“You gonna tell me why we’re calling this a pool house? Not seeing a pool anywhere.”

“Patience,” you huffed, skirting around the two cars that were squeezed together beneath the carport. 

You paused at the door, bouncing lightly on your feet as if to gather some nerve.

“Alright, full disclosure, sometimes a lizard or a snake gets in here. And if I open this door and see a snake, I will either fully abandon you to deal with that shit by yourself or climb you like a tree.”

And there were all sorts of things he could say to that, but he chose to keep his damn mouth shut and nod instead. 

You led the way into the tiny building, wading through air that somehow felt even hotter than it had outside. After a second of endearingly impatient flailing, you caught hold of the thin chain hanging from the light on the ceiling, turning it on with a swift tug. 

It didn’t do much for the space, which remained dim and dusty. There was very little room to walk, a thin avenue of clear concrete circled a large tarped object in the center of the room. Boxes, folding chairs and tables, and a long abandoned workbench lined the back wall. To the left, nearly overlapping the door, was a refrigerator and large separate freezer.  

“Pool table,” you said, lifting up a corner of the tarp to reveal a glossy wood corner. 

Sy smiled a little. 

“Pool house. Cute.” 

“We’re unbearably adorable. We can’t help it,” you said breezily, turning away from him to open the refrigerator door. “Adorable and overstocked with beverages.” 

Every Coke product known to man filled the fridge, accented by bottles of peach tea and cans of lemonade. And…

“Are those Capri-Suns?”

Your eyes widened when you followed his gaze to the three shiny pouches tucked away on the bottom shelf. 

“Huh…” you said softly, turning one over in your hand to check the expiration date. “Why does she even have these?”

“Gotta have all the bases covered, I guess.” 

You hummed, turning your head to look up at him. For half a second, you seemed a little startled at his proximity, blinking rapidly and taking a sharp breath. Sy was doing his best not to crowd you, but there honestly wasn’t enough room for personal space. When he tried to back off a little, all he really managed to do was hip check the pool table and throw off his balance, shrinking the distance even more when you grabbed a handful of his shirt in a quick attempt to steady him. 

There was a pause, neither of you daring to take a breath. The hot, still air of the tiny outbuilding seemed to draw in a little closer, barely cut by the draft from the open refrigerator. 

“Um…” You blinked hard, pulling your hand away like he’d burned you, shuffling to the side to earn a few precious inches of space. 

“Sorry,” he said softly, belatedly. 

“S’okay…” You shook your head a little. “Uh, do you want…?” 

You lifted the little juice pouch still in your hand.

“Sure.” 

It took further rearranging to get the refrigerator door closed again, and Sy tried not to feel too bad at the speed with which you rushed from the building. 

The open air seemed to soothe you a little, the sight of you rolling your shoulders with a deep breath greeting Sy when his eyes readjusted to the bright sunlight. 

That playful confidence crept back over you, a little more tentative but still a sight to see. 

“Are you qualified to open one of these?” you asked, tossing Sy his juice. “Don’t know how much experience you’ve got.”

“Plenty,” Sy said, arching a brow at the smirk that set across your face. “Said what I said.” 

You laughed, reaching to pull the plastic-wrapped straw from the back of the pouch. 

“You sure? You can’t brute force it, ya know. You’ll just stab through both sides and end up with a mess. It takes finesse.”

“I can do finesse.”

He took the straw back from you, making smooth and efficient work of pushing it through the clear plastic circle at the top of the pouch. He took a smug sip, earning a grin from you as you raised your hands in surrender.

“Fine, fine. You have the dexterity of an eight year old. I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“No winning with you, is there?”

“No, sir!” you said proudly, glancing quickly towards the back door at the sound of raised voices, your smile fading slightly. “Guess I should escort you to safety.”

You plucked lightly at his sleeve as you headed back towards the gate where his truck was parked. He followed, falling into step beside you.

“Sure you don’t need backup?” 

Through a gap in the curtain, Sy caught sight of Kat, her face pinched, arms crossed. 

“Oh, I’m not going back in there,” you scoffed. “I’ll walk a lap of the neighborhood or something. Go sit by the pond for a bit, maybe.”

Sy hesitated, his steps slowing.

“I could - We could go somewhere, if you want. Give them time to cool off a little.”

You glanced at him curiously.

“Go where?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Wherever. Get a drink or something.”

“Two nights in a row? The town would implode.”

He smiled a little, leaned against the door of his truck. 

“That’s not a no.”

You shot him a look, mouth twisted up in something that looked very promisingly like indecision.

“Should be a no. Wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”

“What’s the wrong idea?”

You let out a slow breath.

“You know I’m only going to be around a couple weeks.”

He hummed, standing up straight again.

“Doesn’t have to be a drink. Could just go for a drive. No getting any wrong ideas about a drive.”

“No wrong ideas about sunset on a backroad?”

Sy cleared his throat.

“No ma’am. We’re in for a platonic sunset tonight. It told me so.”

You laughed, but there was something a little sad in it. 

“Drink your juice and get outta here before I do something stupid, please.”

Sy knew better than to push, but damn if he didn’t like the sound of that. 

“Yeah, alright.” 

You made no attempt to mask the once-over you gave him as he got into the driver’s seat. He risked holding out his hand one last time, rolling down the window before closing the door. 

“Mind if I use that number you gave me? Sometime.”

“I think you’d better.”

He smiled at that, let it be a full one, earned himself a smile back. 

“I’ll do that then. Thank you for dinner.”

“You’re welcome.”

Sy lingered a moment longer, taking in the sight of you barefoot on the driveway, a late summer breeze making the hem of your dress dance lazily around your legs. 

You shook your head at him, shooing him away with a smile.

As he pulled out of the driveway, he could see you still standing at the gate, watching him until the truck tail lights were out of sight.

*****

A/N: Thank you for reading! I've really missed this story. Would love, love, LOVE to hear what you think.