Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
“Neighbor being a problem again?” Leon asks when he comes by, and I glare at her car, which hasn’t moved yet. “Yeah, I figured that was why that pretty smile of yours was looking a little frayed around the edges. Don’t let her get you down, girl. The day’s beautiful, we’re alive to enjoy it, and we’re gonna have good food in our bellies. Can’t be too upset with all that good going on.”
Leon is the opposite of Kathy’s ‘misery loves company’ and believes in ‘happiness shared is a blessing for all’, and I appreciate his gentle reminder today because truly, it is a great day. I was up all night, alternating between talking with Kyle and having more orgasms in eight hours than I’ve had in the previous year in total, and I felt like we connected in a deeper way than just a meaningless fuck.
For the first time in a long time, I feel like I might actually want to spend more time with someone. Or… gulp… date him.
Which is terrifying. And awesome. And, did I mention… terrifying?
Still, I decide to take a page from Leon’s playbook and spread a little happiness, starting with the crew next door. I know the concrete guys. They’ve been customers before, but I can’t assume they’ll want lunch, so I text Kyle.
How many of the guys over there want lunch today? $10 each. Poblano chili pasta, grilled chicken, cucumber salad.
I’m in the kitchen, peeking out the window when Kyle reads the text. I watch as a smile blooms on his face, he gets the guys’ attention, and then reads it out loud. A hoot of excitement sounds out among them, and I laugh at how little it takes to make them happy. It’s not until Frogger tries to high-five Kyle that I realize it seems like he fucked me into making them lunch.
Didn’t he?
I decide not to examine that too closely and get back to work, chopping up another batch of cucumbers, tomatoes, red onions, jalapeños, and cilantro for the salad.
8. I’ll cover it for everyone. Thank you.
There’s a kissy face emoji at the end that makes me warm, remembering the forehead kiss from this morning. As hot as all the other kissing was that we did last night, that kiss might be my favorite.
I make a few more deliveries out front, walking in the street between the two rows of trucks to pass out the orders, and then fill two bags for next door. I probably shouldn’t be doing this… not the lunches, but the delivery part. Considering Kathy’s car hasn’t moved, I’m sure she’s inside, watching me walk hundreds more steps for every trip out and celebrating her brilliance with every lap I make.
Still, I’m delivering lunches. That can’t be too bad.
I walk to the fence at the end of our yard and U-turn back around, carefully walking past the concrete truck to where the guys are in Kathy’s back yard. They’ve got a good portion of the concrete filled into the hole and are smoothing it up the walls and through the rebar forms.
“Lunch!” I call out, grinning.
“Fuck yeah!” Zeus shouts, his fists punching the air.
“Thank you, Dani,” Dwight, the concrete lead, says. “It’s good to see you. We haven’t been on this side of town much lately.”
“Glad to see you today, then.”
Kyle takes the bags from me, and they start passing out the Styrofoam boxes, talking happily and excitedly about my food.
“Excuse me, what are you doing on my property?” a voice snipes from the house.
I look up and sigh.
It’s Kathy, standing at her back door with a sneering look of distaste directed solely at me. “Just delivering lunch to the guys. I’m leaving,” I say, holding my hands out and already taking a couple of steps toward the front.
“You are not allowed on my property. I’m calling the police.”
Kyle steps forward. “Kathy, that’s not necessary. Dani brought over the lunches I bought for the guys today as a treat. She’s leaving now. Everything’s fine.”
Kathy turns her full vitriol on him now that he’s made himself a target. “It is not fine. She knows she’s not supposed to be here, and I don’t want her food over here, either. Take that slop with you,” she orders me.
I’ve never been one for self-preservation or good decisions, though, so as I take another slow step, I offer, “No problem. Hey guys, my food’s not allowed here, apparently, so if you want to sit under the tree in my back yard while you eat lunch, you’re welcome to.” I point at the tree along the back fence line that gives a healthy spread of shade.
Zeus and Frogger are already hopping the fence between the two yards, balancing their boxed lunches in one hand as they do so.
“No!” Kathy screeches. “Get back to work! Nobody’s leaving until my concrete’s done.”