syd 🤍

You're sipping your morning coffee one morning when you catch a glimpse of him through the kitchen window. Wayne is crouched on your front porch, his toolbox open beside him, focused on that loose third step. It’s hard to believe you only mentioned it casually a few days ago while everyone was gathered around the tailgate of his truck, laughing and sharing stories.

Your heart does a little flip.

Setting your mug down as you walk outside, you hear the screen door creak softly as you push it open. He doesn’t look up, just continues to work the drill with a steady rhythm.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Fixin’ your step,” he replies, his tone flat and straightforward.

“I can see that,” a hint of amusement creeping into your voice.

“Then why’d you ask?” he counters, not missing a beat.

You cross your arms, trying to suppress a smile. “Wayne.”

“Yep.” He gives the board a test with his boot, seemingly satisfied, and begins to gather his tools.

“I mentioned that a few days ago,” you remind him.

“And?”

“And you just… decided to fix it? This morning?”

He stands up, brushing sawdust off his jeans, and finally meets your gaze with that serious expression that sends a flutter through your stomach. “You said it was botherin’ you.”

“So?”

“So I fixed it.” He says it as if it were nothing. “Problem solved.”

The way he looks at you unwaveringly makes warmth creep up your neck. He listened and remembered. He came over on a Saturday morning just because you had mentioned a loose step once.

“You didn’t have to.”

“Wanted to.”

Those two words linger between you, heavy with unspoken feelings neither of you is quite ready to address. Wayne picks up his toolbox, and you scramble for something to say.

“Well, isn’t this adorable?"

You both turn to see Katy leaning against his truck, a mischievous grin on her face.

“Katy,” Wayne warns.

“What?” She strolls up the newly-fixed steps, testing each one with exaggerated care. “Just admiring my brother’s handiwork. Very thorough. Very… attentive.” She stretches out the last word, her eyes dancing between you two. “Funny how he never fixes things around our place this quickly.”

“Katy.”

“Remember when I asked you to fix the barn door? two weeks ago?”

Wayne’s jaw tightens. “That’s different.”

“Oh, is it?” Katy’s smile is playful. “How’s it different, Wayne?”

You watch as his ears turn red, and something warm and wonderful blooms in your chest.

“I’m gonna go,” he mutters, but Katy steps in front of him.

“You’re gonna go? You just fixed her porch at seven in the morning, and you’re going to leave?” She looks at you, shaking her head. “He’s been talking about this step for three days. ‘Dangerous.’ ‘Someone could get hurt. ’"

“Katy.”

She raises her hands in mock surrender, backing up. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave you two to your… step discussion.” Her grin is utterly shameless. “Great work, Wayne. Real solid. Sturdy.”

As she walks off, Wayne clears his throat, the tension easing.

“So,” you say softly, breaking the silence.

“So.”

“Thank you,” you add, your voice barely above a whisper