Fire Cracker

Fire Cracker

The Ghost of Fuckings Past

Sabrina

Sabrina leaned upon the bar. She twirled a loose ringlet of hair about her forefinger, banding it in honey blonde. Her eyes drifted longingly to the mosh pit dance floor.

The Bat Cave was a grunge dive wannabe now trying to extend its existence into the post-COVID era by looping pop from the past three decades. A fun, Selena Gomez, hit had sent a technicolored crowd of women into a tizzy of waving arms and sexy sways. Sabrina would've had the time of her life out there.

An ache in Sabrina's thigh told her that she'd been in one position too long. She unhooked the heel of her pump from the cross brace on her stool. She carefully uncrossed and re-crossed her knees, one over the other. She had to be careful. On a barstool, in her wished-it-were-designer, sparkly body con mini dress it would be easy to show her date more than she intended.

It had been sweet of Carl to bring her to a dance club. They'd been together for a while now and he was clearly trying to reignite the spark they'd once had. Their dinner at Anthony's and sunset walk on the boardwalk outside had been--ordinary. And hazardous. Gee, she needed to stop wearing heels to Anthony's.

Problem was, Carl didn't dance. Sabrina looked longingly at the dance floor once more. Carl might've brought her here but she had about as much chance of getting him on the dance floor as she had of being the first woman to walk on the moon.

Wait, had that already happened? Sabrina thought maybe it had. Why hadn't that been bigger news? And why didn't she know? That was the kind of thing a career engineer should've known. Right?

Sabrina slipped her phone, in its bling jewel case, from the pocket in her clutch. She dropped it on the bar beside her lemon drop. Christina Koch's name popped up almost immediately in her search, an electrical engineer, like Sabrina, but it turned out to be surprisingly difficult to verify if Christina had actually managed to set foot on the moon. The woman had a Masters in Electrical Engineering, which Sabrina kind of envied. And gee, Christina might've walked on the moon, which was, like, fan girl material.

"Whatcha lookin' for, Girly Girl?" Carl yelled. He had too. It was that loud in the club.

Sabrina swiveled so she faced her date. They were only thirty, but his hair was already showing signs of male pattern baldness. Being taller, even in flats, that was no surprise to Sabrina. His sandy blonde hair hadn't abandoned him, yet, but it was thinning. She wasn't fond of his pet name for her but had never told him to cut it out. It was how he'd put her into his phone.

What was a surprise was that Sabrina cared. Oh-em-gee, his hair was a not an issue. Or his height. Or that he was a little stocky. He'd always been those things. Why was she noticing now? She was not that shallow. Was she? "Do you know if Christina Koch has walked on the moon?"

"Who?"

Sabrina leaned in towards Carl's ear. "Christina Koch!"

"No idea. Who is she? Is she Charles Koch's daughter or something?"

"No!" Well, she might've been. Sabrina would have to google the relationship too. But who cared who her father had been. He could've been King Charles for all anyone should've cared. No one dick referenced Neil. The woman might've walked on the moon for Prada's sake. "She's an astronaut on NASA's Artemis Team."

"Huh. Never heard of her."

Figured. Not that she had either, until two minutes ago. It really should've been bigger news. She took a sip of her lemon drop, because alcohol made exactly zero problems go away, but it tasted good.

As the music swelled once more and talking became impossible, Carl took a swallow of his beer, some kind of silver label thing light on calories and flavor. Sabrina contemplated her date. Carl had been sweet on her, and she on him, for two years. Sabrina's BFF, Joy, had introduced them when they'd all been studying for their PE's a few years past. The women had made the cut. Carl was up for his second try. He'd make it. He was ready. Sabrina was sure of it.

But while Sabrina was honestly happy for Carl, the prospect of being a PE power pair didn't excite her anymore--if it ever had. Carl was--Sabrina wasn't sure what he was--he just wasn't her forever man. She'd always known that, except he was kind of becoming that. Now that her BFF's career had launched into the stratosphere and Joy had landed herself a forever cowboy, Sabrina was starting to think she was ready for forever too.

With someone who danced.

"Do you want to dance?" Sabrina yelled. Taylor Swift jackhammered Sabrina's ears. Taylor, yay! One-hundred-six decibels, boo.

Carl looked at her like her mascara was '80s freak show running. He put down his beer and cycled a heavy sigh. He puffed up like he was steeling himself to climb into a dunk tank on a December day.

Sabrina waved him off. Her attention returned to her phone. "Nevermind!"

Carl was clearly relieved. How she could tell though, Sabrina wasn't certain. Carl's eyes had never ever been expressive. Just one spark of life less and they would've been dead. Like Christa McAuliffe's, his eyes were blue. Which really, really wasn't funny. But it kind of was. A little bit? Maybe? Sabrina's internal critic cringed. Why were some people's disasters everyone else's humor? Sabrina would've bet Christa McAuliffe's eyes had been exploding with life, pre-Challenger. Which was more than a little bit sad.

Someone knocked into her, sliding up to the bar behind Sabrina. Warmth settled against her shoulders and radiated all along her back. "Hey!" Sabrina turned to look and craned her gaze, up and up and up. "Watch..." she said, her voice already tailing off. The man had muscle. Muscle, with a capital M. Shoulders so broad the owner could've battle roped with Galloping Gertie, and won, blocked most her view. She caught a whiff of a spicy scent and sweat. Clean sweat. Like from exercising. Not that sour sulfur smell Carl got when he was nervous, engineered or made poor dietary choices.

"Sorry 'bout that." His voice was deep and cut through the music's base boom. His chest reverberated against Sabrina's shoulder blades and a honeyed heat slipped slowly towards her core.

The goliath gifted Sabrina a crooked grin. Sabrina gaped at him, because, eye candy. His gaze made a slow glide over her. Given his height, proximity and the dress she had on he had to be looking straight down her cleavage. A hum built in her chest. Sabrina's fingers fluttered on her collar bone. He could look. She didn't mind.

His palm slapped the bar. The ice in Sabrina's lemon drop, jumped as high as she did. "Pappy Van. Rocks," he rumbled at the bar tender. His gaze never left Sabrina.

"You want to dance?"

Sabrina's fingers froze at her throat. An icy shaft of guilt speared her sternum. "I..." She glanced sharply at her date. She'd forgotten Carl was there. He quirked an eyebrow at her. He'd brought her to the Bat Cave because she really, really, really liked to dance. She knew it grated on him when she picked up with someone that would actually dance with her, but he grinned and bore it, because he was that kind of boyfriend. He wouldn't dance with her but he'd suffer while she did what she loved.

Which was why she'd been sitting at the bar because it just--kind--of--sucked--that they both couldn't have fun at the same time. Carl's idea of a perfect date was a dinner in his office clothes, sportsball gossip, which she didn't mind, she'd been a cheerleader, and to get lucky once a month--which, come to think of it, it was about time to stamp the ol' passport. How had she gotten here? They used to be fun.

It stopped being fun when Joy and Cade showed you what you were missing.

Ugh. The hamster voice! Always right. Smug as shit. Never ever nice.

She turned her gaze back to the Babylonian god still pressing into her back with the intent of turning him down. He looked down at her with a lopsided grin that said he knew what was coming, but didn't really care.

Sabrina opened her mouth. The letdown knotted in her throat. How could she waste this? A dance in a dance club. Not to mention, the chance to dance with the Babylonian god of the moon, Sin, himself. He might not have been Mr. Right, but he sure as sin was Mr. Right Now.

"Sure." Sabrina quaffed the remainder of her lemon drop. Liquid courage. She shoved her clutch and phone at Carl. She didn't need to ask him to watch them. She slid off her stool and pulled the hem of her skirt down, because, yeah, she shouldn't have slid, no matter that she, the white trailer trash girl, had stripped so as to pay her way through college. That was then. This was now.

Standing, in her four inch heels, Sin was perhaps an inch taller than she. That made him six-five, she guessed. But he had her by at least two hundred pounds of muscle. Sabrina hoped he really did know how to dance because those size fourteen shoes on her toes would not feel good.

He took her hand in his, it was uncomfortable how much his dwarfed hers, and led her towards the dance floor.

"What's your name?" Sabrina screamed over MKTO.

"Cole." His name sounded as though it was a sonic boom. Sabrina marveled that he hadn't rattled the rafters. "You?"

"Sabrina, Bree, Bee, whatever!" If she had to keep talking, Sabrina was going to lose her voice.

"Nice to meet you, Whatever!"

Sabrina groaned. The press of bodies increased as they approached the center of the dance floor, but following Cole was like being escorted by a Russian icebreaker. When he reached the center of the floor he turned to her and STAG--stood there and ground. He was undeniably hot while doing so. Sabrina giggled-screamed with glee, bounced on her toes, threw he hands in the air and with wild abandon, danced about him. Sabrina even went so far to grind with him. Which was a mistake. Because something melted. She was pretty sure it was her panties.

Sabrina had no idea how long she danced. Nowhere near as long as a shift at XXX-Girls-Girls-Girls-XXX when she'd been in college. But college had been at least one fitness level ago. She needed water. There was no one to bring it to her.

"I need a drink!"

Cole cupped a hand to his ear.

"Water!" Sabrina shouted.

Cole nodded and parted the crowd for her.

When she returned to the bar for a pine float, Carl caught her gaze. He tapped the atomic blue, Ball Engineer on his wrist and nodded towards the door. Sabrina agreed. They'd been out for a long while. It was Thursday. Which meant she still had to get up at some responsible hour tomorrow--if Friday was still tomorrow. Gee, she hoped so. She apologized to Cole, blew him a kiss and followed her date out the door.

Back in Carl's, no-woman-could-ever-be-trusted-to-drive-it, Porsche, because, of course, single, white-male engineer wages, they zipped south on Interstate-5 towards Sabrina's Silver Lake apartment. The throwback analog clock on the dash, backlit by LED, proclaimed it a quarter past ten, thank God. It was not nearly as late as she had feared.

"Did you have a good evening, Girly Girl?"

Something in Sabrina's brain twanged, off key, but she suppressed it.

"Oh-em-gee, yes." Sabrina had. She was talking about the dancing. They'd been together a long while and despite Cole with the panty melting moves, part of Sabrina thought that she'd probably missed her get-swept-off-her-feet window. Never mind that her BFF had been thirty-three when she'd found herself boobs over bangs. Sabrina feared she might need to settle if she wanted any kind of shot at having a forever person. Life with Carl wouldn't be bad, it just didn't look exciting. So she channeled her dance club excitement into the earlier part of their evening, because what could it hurt to stroke Carl's fragile male ego? She babbled about their dinner, the walk on the wharf and the sunset over the Puget Sound. Actually the sunset had been a beautiful sight to behold. She'd only wondered once during their date how many megawatts it took to power the supercarrier parked at the naval base next door. She'd also spent twenty minutes guessing at its systems and calculating their imagined power draw. But she didn't tell Carl that, because that was the kind of thing she did when she was bored, or curious, or just, really, to the third power, nerding over something.

In the car, Carl smiled indulgently at her babbling.

After parking in a visitor space at her apartment complex, Carl walked her across the lot, his hand on the small of her back. She lived on the second floor, with a view of Silver Lake. Given their height differential, Carl was probably getting an eyeful as he followed her up the stairs to her door, but, oh well, it wasn't anything she hadn't happily shown him before.

After she unlocked her door, Sabrina turned and let her mediocre white-man kiss her good night. She'd have liked to have been able to rest her head on her man's chest or shoulders, not bend over the way she had to. There were times when having his chin roughly level with her breasts had its advantages, but kissing was not one of them. Sabrina slipped off her pumps and kicked them inside to bring their mouths closer to level.

Their lips met. Carl probed the seam of her mouth with the tip of his tongue. He'd popped an Altoid, thank God. Wintergreen was not Sabrina's favorite flavor but a far cry better than leftover salmon from dinner or that beer he'd been drinking. She let him in. He swiped her tongue. A light flutter, a warm butterfly wing, brushed her core. Not desire. More like the Ghost of Fuckings Past.

Carl tangled a hand in the hair at the nape of her neck, pushed her head down, went up on his toes and riveted their lips more fully. Once upon a Disney, she would've devoured his eagerness and called it love. But she'd seen Joy and Cade--that was love. And Sabrina wanted it.

Carl's kiss got a little sloppy. His free hand traveled from her shoulder to maul her breast. Oh, farts. He wanted to stamp her passport. Tonight.

Did she want to? Not really.

Did she have it in her? The Ghost of Fuckings Past shrugged.

Was there a reason to? When Sabrina had been nineteen Grandma had said a woman does what a woman does to keep her man happy. Sabrina had been too inexperienced to really understand at the time. Now she did.

Fine. It wasn't a bad time. It was kind of like lying but it wouldn't hurt her any. How could it? He'd been in her panties once a month for two years. Perhaps she could conjure up Sin the Babylonian god in her third eye. That's what a man did, when he was having a hard time keeping it up, envisioned a different fuck, right?

Sabrina fisted the pocket panel of Carl's short sleeved, button down, pin stripped, wouldn't have looked out of place in a JPL engineering lab shirt, broke their kiss, gifted Carl the saucy wink she'd perfected beside a stripper pole and dragged him through her door.

Getting a Zit

Sabrina

Sabrina slapped her palm down on the digital clock on her nightstand. The Dollar Store clock spit out from under her fingers, flew off her nightstand and ricochet off her closet door. It rolled across the carpet still blaring its wakeup screech. Sabrina wrestled off the bed covers. The half open clasp of her bra, Carl had never mastered the hasp, bit into the small of her back. Reaching behind her, Sabrina flipped open the clip and tugged off the offensive garment hugging her belly.

She rolled out of bed, naked. Sabrina walked to the clock and stomped on the snooze. To Carl she said, "Work in forty."

Carl grunted into her pillow.

"I'm taking a shower."

Carl grunted again.

She slipped into her tiny bathroom. Sabrina locked the door. She wasn't up for company, even if she'd had the time. If Sabrina was lucky, Carl would make himself useful and whip her up some breakfast. That'd been his MO the morning after, once upon a time.

Thirty seven minutes later, Sabrina crunched on the Grape-Nuts she'd tossed in her yogurt cup. She shoveled the last few bites, walked over to the bathroom door and screamed, over the running shower, for Carl to lock up when he left. She grabbed her purse and trotted down the stairs to her white, non-descript, pre-owned, Ford Focus, because, single, overachieving white-female engineer wages.

Sabrina flat ironed her hair during the pauses in the ten-mile per hour crawl in Southbound Interstate-5's traffic. She finished her makeup at the lights in Lynwood. In her office, five after seven, she ran an emergency lint brush over her pant suit because, yeah, the previous owners of her Focus had a cat. It'd probably once been super cute but was now hairless, because, yikes. She needed to get the car detailed.

One cup of office black and the first fifty, of two-hundred, email later, many of the other early risers had arrived. Conversations blossomed in the hall. An urgent meeting request from the Brian Hayward, the Engineering Manager popped up for nine. Watt Engineering's Lynwood office was nice, state of the art and the offices had doors for most everyone. Yet, as the morning inched towards Sabrina's nine a. m. meeting, the hubbub of business rose in volume.

Sabrina didn't have time for chit-chat. Especially since one of those voices in the hall was, Kyle, The Zit.

Not that Kyle was unattractive. Kyle was too attractive. He was also really, to the third power, tall. Like taller than Sin from last night. And although Cole probably could've tied Kyle into a pretzel, Kyle still had muscles that she, Sabrina, had, in much weaker moments, fantasized about licking. His eyes were the color of a mossy forest floor--green and brown. Sabrina absolutely should have known better than to fantasize. As a sixth grader Kyle'd made a game out of tugging her ponytail. If she said something, she'd get detention. Somehow Mrs. Olsen had never caught Kyle in the act. Teacher's pet. So unfair.

In high school he'd edged Sabrina out of valedictorian by taking one more AP class than she. The class had required an investment that Kyle's doctor dad covered but that a welfare kid couldn't touch.

They'd competed for high marks in statics, dynamics, thermodynamics, statistics--essentially, all of the engineering core classes--at Oregon State University.

Oregon, assigned seating, side-by-side, eight hour State administered, Fundamentals of Engineering exam.

Washington, assigned seating, side-by-side, sixteen hour State administered, Professional Engineer test. Sabrina knew he'd aced both. He aced everything!

No, Kyle's likeness to a zit wasn't that he was disgustingly ugly, because his I-want-to-lick-that-body was beyond hot, or because he was less intelligent than Bevis and Butthead, because, spoiler alert, he could do Fourier transforms without a calculator. His zit power was that he never, ever went away. Even when Sabrina had sworn she'd finally ditched him, he'd show up again, just like the monster zit she'd gotten on her chin three weeks before Junior Prom. Case in point, six months ago Kyle had shown up here, in Lynwood, as an employee of Watt Engineering. He'd even been assigned to her team. Her team! Her team was power engineers! He was civ, for Versace's sake!

That was why Sabrina was on the ASCE licensed website updating a project map with earthquake zones, shear and acceleration for the new Bonneville to Seattle 765kV powerline that BPA wanted to build. There was no way, no how she'd grant Kyle a victory by asking him for help even though earthquake zoning was civil engineering, not electrical.

The two minute meeting warning on her computer went off. Sabrina doubled down on another minute-thirty of work, logged out of the ASCE software and sped for the emergency meeting. It was an office wide, all engineers on deck, type meeting. She arrived in time to get the last seat, which, ugh, was right across from The Zit in the too crowded room.

Kyle's lips bowed in greeting. Sabrina glared. Kyle's smile faltered. The line of his lips compressed. Muscles flexed in his cheeks, drawing Sabrina's gaze away from his eyes. Instead, she ogled his jaw. His very broad, very square jaw. It spoke of a strength that rivaled the marble chops of Michelangelo's David. Even at nine a. m. Kyle sported just the barest shadow of stubble. Given the ultra-dark chocolate, rich color of Kyle's hair, Sabrina supposed she shouldn't have been surprised.

I wonder what that would feel like between my thi-- Sabrina's brain made a broken record scrape. Warm champagne fizzled low, too low, in her torso. She goose-pimpled because not even a broken record could scratch out her gutter thoughts. This was too much!

Sabrina called upon her tween, pigtail pulled fury. A molten ball of emotion formed behind her sternum. Even as it cooled into a solid ball of steel, a single drop of heat dripped free and wormed its way into her core. The butterflies disturbed there metamorphosed into hornets and stung their way up to her face. Kyle crooked an eyebrow, which made the hornets sting all the harder.

Brian strode into the room. "Good morning!" he bellowed. Chatter stilled. All heads turned towards him. The gray haired, hadn't-been-young-since-Armstrong-trotted-on-the-moon, boomer dropped a stack of paper upon the table. He did not pull up a chair.

"Last night, Blackwax Oil Limited, had a fire in Cracker, Wyoming. Watt has been tapped to provide engineering support for the restoration effort."

Voices rose in a cacophonous babble.

"Quiet!" Brian's bark was sharp. The room stilled. "The fire started in the CAT cracker. The bulk of the damage is localized to that one unit. The refinery's not complex."

"What do they do?" somebody further down the table said. Sabrina thought she might've recognized Matt's voice.

"Reduce crude wax so it can be piped to refineries on the Gulf. It's a niche market that won't last long. It's a multibillion dollar investment with stratospheric margins--when the cracker was online. Right now BO is losing its shirt." Someone snickered. "We are being paid premium. I need volunteers to evaluate structural, mechanical, instrumentation, pipe and electrical. We've also been tapped to source an EE to lead the electrical restoration."

Sabrina leaned forward, her eyes glued to Brian. This was big. Going to be huge. A chance to prove herself in the field, giant. Excitement stirred in her chest.

"What's the timing?" Gary, an Xer to Sabrina's right, asked.

"A week, two tops, for the evaluation." Brian ran a hand through his iron gray curls. He usually kept it short but it looked like he might be overdue for a cut. "Volunteers will be on the first plane out of SeaTac."

A hubbub of voices rose. A name or two dropped in the metaphorical hat.

"What about the electrical engineer lead?" Sabrina dared.

Concern flashed in Brian's eyes. It evaporated so fast Sabrina wondered if she'd imagined it.

"BO has only started bringing in labor. Skilled labor will be trickling in from around the world. Whoever goes should plan on six months. It'll probably be less, but it might not. Better to be prepared. As the assignment is so long, we can afford to give him a day to get his affairs in order. He won't need to be a plane until Sunday morning."

Him. His. He. As in dick wielder. Discomfort soured Sabrina's stomach. Watt Engineering employed a lot of women. Women drafters. Women designers. Women accountants. Women lawyers. Women process engineers. But process engineering was not participating in the meeting. Sabrina was suddenly very aware she was the only person in the room without a sausage. At least she wasn't alone in the boobs department. Ted was roly-poly and probably should've been wearing a bra.

Discord voices crescendoed once more. Sabrina screwed up her courage. Six months was a long time. But this was big, and if she was successful, happy dance, almost lunar landing huge.

Sabrina raised her hand. "I'll do it." Her voice might've squeaked, just a little.

Silence crashed. A pin dropping on the moon might've made more noise than the men in the room.

Brian cleared his throat. "I've already tapped Ted to do the electrical engineering eval."

Sabrina's gaze darted about the room. Everywhere she saw disbelief or shock. Disdain ghosted across the faces of some of the less friendly men. Only Kyle seemed to be evaluating her with... more curiosity than fear.

"I meant--" Brian knew what she'd meant. Sabrina was sure of it. But, yeah, she was dickless. She hadn't expected that from him. She'd have sworn he was better than that. Sabrina pinched the bridge of her nose, because, fuck if she was going to let this room full of assholes see her cry. Christina Koch wouldn't have cried. "--I volunteer for the EE lead position."

Brian scowled. Chairs creaked as if in sympathy with their occupant's discomfort. "Anyone else?" Brian growled.

Air whooshed out of Sabrina as though she'd been kicked in the gut. She had been kicked in the gut. This was exactly what being kicked in the gut felt like. Bile rose in Sabrina's throat.

"Six months is a long time," someone, Sabrina couldn't tell, she was still too busy trying not to vomit, said.

Voices muttered in general agreement. Someone said sixteen hour days.

"Fourteen--max," Brian said, "Most the time WE will expect you to limit yourselves to twelve. Nor are you to work more than six days a week. Normally it'd be fourteen before a day off, but six months is a long haul."

"It's still a very long time," someone said.

Gee, Sabrina felt like she was a smear on the floor. No one wanted the job except her but no one wanted her to have the job. Her courage felt like a possum in the middle of Interstate-5--in other words, flattened. She sucked in a breath that shuddered in her lungs. Some small part of Sabrina's conscious noted Kyle was watching her.

"I said," Sabrina's words gained force, "I'll do it."

Brian's gaze dropped towards his feet. He pushed his glasses aside. Much as Sabrina had, Brian pinched the bridge of his nose, although she didn't think he was going to cry. "You don't know what you're askin'."

"I'm asking to be given a chance."

"Look around you Sabrina!" Brian waved his arm at the whole room. "You think you're out numbered here? Cracker, Wyoming exists for the sole purpose of supporting BO's refinery and the men that work there. And they'll be importing more men, from a variety of cultures, some even more repressive than ours. And those men won't be the nerds in this office. These will be the type of men who make their living by the strength of their arms. You'll be outnumbered a hundred to one!"

Sabrina had to admit, she was unnerved. But nothing ventured, nothing gained. Some woman would be the first to walk on the moon. "Yay, me." Her voice was weak. She pretended to wave a flag in the air. "Smorgasbord." What had possessed her to say that? Sabrina blamed her years as an Axeman cheerleader.

Chuckles sounded from a handful of men. Kyle hid his profile from the front of the room with the flat of his hand. Sabrina could clearly see the smile that played on his face. She bit her lip to hold back a laugh. His gaze flicked to her lips and went--molten?

"Damn it, Sabrina, this is not a joke!" Brian thunder god stormed.

Sabrina's gaze snapped back to the man that controlled her future. She probably shouldn't have been challenging him in front of the whole department. The fight made her look childish. But she was an electrical engineer, she wanted the job when no one else did, if she bent, even a little, she'd lose out. If she'd been a dick wielder, there wouldn't have been a fight.

"I know!" Frustration made cinders of her throat. She scooched forward until she was on the very edge of her chair. She waved her arm in a sharp gesture at the room. "No one else wants the job. I do! And you're not letting me do it!"

"Sir--"

"Not now, Kyle," Brian snapped. "Sabrina, it's not that simple."

"Why not?" Her tone, and words, were sharp.

Brian growled. He actually growled. "Because I don't want to lose one of my two best up and coming engineers because she got hurt, or scared, or simply fed up with the opposite gender and quits."

Sabrina rocked back in her seat. He thought--she was--Sabrina could feel the shock that must've painted her face. The expressions of several men darkened at Brian's words. Their glares focused on Sabrina like a constellation of targeting lasers.

But despite his glowing review, Brian was still not letting her go. "You don't think I can do it?" Her words were pianissimo.

"Yes. No! Damn it, Sabrina. Yes. If the world were different, yes, yes you could. But it's not!"

Sabrina's words remained weak, quiet. "But how are we supposed to change it if no one tries?"

Half way across the room, Brain jerked away from her as though he'd been slapped. He took a forceful step, he clearly wanted to pace, but the conference room was too tight, too packed with bodies. He rounded on her and made a gesture with his hand. "Fine," he snapped. "But I'm still your boss, we're doin' this my way. You're getting someone to back you up. Force people to listen when they won't listen to you because--damn it! I need another volunteer! Any discipline!" The final word came out fortissimo.

"I'll do it." The words, spoken in a low, gravelly voice, hit Sabrina like a basalt fist to the jaw. She touched her chin. Oh my God! Was she getting a zit?

Trust

Kyle

Kyle picked his hand up off the conference room table as a flag. His chest felt as though it were a concrete mixer. For a moment, his words stuck in his throat as the desire to help and the desire to stay out of the line of fire warred with each other. "I'll do it."

Shock, chased by anger, ghosted across Ms. DeLane's face. The burnt cinnamon eyes, eyes that had never failed to stop his heart, chilled to the iced temperatures of a Frappuccino. Yet, they still managed to roast him with the heat of a gigawatt rhodamine-B laser.

Proverbial foot meet proverbial ass. Would he never get it right with this woman? Would she never let him off the hook for tugging her hair that one time, in grade school? All he'd wanted was for her to look at him. For her to gaze on him with those, I-think-I'm-going-to-drown-in-your-soul eyes. Not that he had known at eleven that that was why he had wanted her to look at him. He'd just known he couldn't survive another minute without gazing upon the light that so often shown in her face.

Kyle put his hand down slowly. But it was too late. Brian Hayward had already punched his one way ticket to six months in hell. How did he always get himself into these situations?

Sabrina did not like him. Nor did she appreciate all the times he'd somehow, despite his best efforts to respect her space, ended up in countless situations, right beside her, every memorable day since sixth grade. Kyle wanted to groan. Or cuss. Or groan and cuss. Instead he grabbed his emotions by the throat, stuffed them into a lead lined box and melted the key with a plutonium rod. He hoped his face showed no more character than a blank wall.

Charbroiled by Sabrina's slow roast glare, Kyle missed whatever Mr. Hayward said next. Before he knew it they were being dismissed.

Over the scrape of chairs, Brian yelled, "Ted, Tyler, Frank, Matt, my office, now. Sabrina, Kyle, be there in fifteen."

Kyle waited for the room to sufficiently clear such that he could make it to the door. He was so much taller than everyone that crowds didn't block his line of sight. Out of the conference room, he should've turned right, towards his office, but turned left instead. He hadn't meant to anger Sabrina, he'd meant to--Kyle had no clue what he'd meant to do. Help?

Now he needed to apologize. Maybe? He knew better than to put his nose in where it wasn't wanted, but he'd done it again. He'd chalk it up to breathless adoration she'd inspired in him while standing up for herself. But that didn't explain the other ten-thousand times he'd stuck his toe in where it wasn't wanted in the past nineteen years.

And, unfortunately, while he was so going to get his ass kicked for this, he agreed with Brian. Kyle had all the faith in the world in Sabrina's abilities. He'd watched her overcome countless challenges. But faith alone would not shield Sabrina from a testosterone enriched environment. She loved her job. He wanted her to continue loving her job. He wanted her to continue working for Watt Engineering. He hadn't known she was an employee of when he'd applied, but being assigned to the same team with her had been an unexpected bonus--despite the animosity.

When Kyle arrived at Sabrina's office, it was as though Sabrina had been waiting for him. After he stepped inside, she slammed the door so hard her plate glass window rattled. She then dropped into her chair like a truckload of road base. Kyle wasn't sure that she was aware she'd man spread, but despite the fact that she wore slacks, his gaze so shouldn't have gone there. Frustration he hadn't seen since high school vibrated along lines of her body like a harmonic on an over taut structural cord.

"Why does nobody trust me? Is it because I'm female?" Sabrina's words came out like side-by-side Howitzer blasts. Direct in the line of fire, Kyle was shocked when he didn't find himself splattered against the door. Alarm claxons went off on the bridge of his soul. Hazard! Hazard! Hazard! The officers of the S. S. Kyle hunkered down in crash positions. The helmsman spun the wheel while screaming that Kyle was broadside to danger. The urge to flee was so overwhelming, Kyle's legs trembled. Kyle heard her barely contained tears underneath the fury. His fingers stretched for the door knob.

Kyle yanked his hand back. The gears in his brain freewheeled, their clutch disengaged. Sabrina expected an answer. She expected him to answer. And he didn't have an answer except the one she'd already given. He knew that that answer wasn't enough, that there was more too it, but he didn't have it.

"I'm... not sure?" Kyle screwed up his courage. "Maybe? Probably." Kyle's heart twisted like a wrung out sponge as the light went out of Sabrina's eyes. It killed him. Every word he uttered shoveled a deeper hole for his grave. It was probably four-hundred and fifty-three feet deep already. He'd be in New Zealand before he knew it. "I think so?" Finally, finally, he managed to J. B. Weld his word hole shut. There was absolutely nothing good coming out of it. Once more his hand crept towards the doorknob. It took every atom of his will to prevent himself from turning it.

Sabrina crumbled. She looked so raw, so defeated, Kyle wanted to take her in his arms and hold her, rock her, kiss her until the light returned to her eyes.

Holy fuck, where had that come from? He could not kiss her. Or even hold her. Sabrina's nails were dainty. Short. Rounded. Pink. Kyle had no doubt she could eviscerate him with her bare hands and then make a rope of his intestines to haul him to HR down the hall.

"Look Sabrina, you're a fantastic engineer. Brian knows it. I know it. The whole department knows it. That he doesn't want you to have the job is wrong. It was wrong a hundred years ago. It's wrong today. That's why I volunteered, you know, to help make it right--as much as I can."

"God, how could you possibly think that shit would work? You volunteered to prove how much better you are than me!"

"What shit? Sabrina, I want to help!"

Sabrina seemed to finally remember her dignity, crossed her legs and pulled her chair up to her desk. She dropped her face in her hands. Beautiful honey blonde waves cascaded in front of her face.

Sabrina's angel voice warbled. "Can you give me a moment?"

"Yes." The word exited Kyle's mouth far calmer than he felt. The thoughts, All systems go! Full speed ahead, right now! echoed in Kyle's skull. Kyle hoped he didn't seem too eager. He shook with the effort of maintaining an even pace. On the bridge of his soul, Captain Kyle bellowed for warp speed. Kyle closed the door behind him gently, and then, after two measured paces, vaulted up to a speed walk.

Within the confines of his own office, Kyle tried to calm himself. His attention jumped from his note book, to his email and back again. Projects and priorities rattled around in his skull like bingo balls in a blower. He tried to make a list of what he should hand-off or blow-off for the next six months. His brain refused to cooperate.

He'd made no progress by the time Sabrina showed up at his door. "You ready?"

For his blood letting? At her hands? No. But he didn't really have a choice.

Sabrina was composed. Her eyeliner was intact. She looked as inflexible as a basalt column. But Kyle had spent more than half his life eyeballing her from the corner of his eye and he could see the stress fissures. Again, he had to agree with Brian. There was no doubt Sabrina had the know-how, the technical skills, but putting her in an oil refinery with hundreds, possibly thousands, of men juiced up on testosterone boosters during a crisis moment was like throwing her amongst a pack of starving, Middle Earth wargs with nothing but a rubber sword. Kyle grabbed a pen, his Moleskine notebook and, with an escalating sense of dread, marched after her towards Brian's office.

They arrived as the others were leaving. Sabrina knocked on the doorframe to draw Brian's attention.

"Come in." Brian's voice was gruff. He pointed at the visitor chairs within his office. "Have a seat." It was not a request. Brian remained standing behind his desk.

Sabrina sat herself in a chair centered upon Brian's desk. Kyle pulled up a second seat beside the wall. The position rather hid him behind Brian's computer monitor. Kyle was pretty certain that Sabrina had picked up on that when she'd selected her seat. The woman had more courage than he. She'd intentionally placed herself in the line of fire.

"Sabrina," Brian said. The base rumble in his voice would've done the Allfather proud. "I'd not recommend making it a habit to arguing with your boss in front of his subordinates. Having said that, this one time, I applaud you. You showed nerve. You're going to need that in Cracker."

Sabrina blinked, clearly startled. The white knuckle clasp of her hands on the notebook in her lap, eased.

Brian leaned against a filing cabinet. He drummed the top of its metal housing to punctuate his words. "This is the situation. BO, God, what a name, has already brought in 120 industrial construction electricians from Mountain Industrial Services. MIS has put out a nationwide call for more. You, Sabrina, are to be the liaison between BO and MIS. You will evaluate priorities, timing and schedules. MIS will be working 24/7. It'll not only be your job to keep them busy, but keep them busy doing the right thing. You'll push BO's agenda. You'll get MIS what they need to do their job. You will know the BO electrical system better than any person that has ever walked this Earth. If, when this is over, BO gets what they want and MIS looks good, you will look good. Do you understand?" Brian held Sabrina's gaze until she slowly nodded. Kyle thought she looked a little pale.

Sabrina turned to Kyle and silently mouthed, "120?"

"You--" Brian's eyes swung to Kyle. The word was a shotgun blast. "--Kyle, will be Ms. DeLane's backup. I mean it--back her up! Sabrina's workload is going to be massive. At any given moment Sabrina will have a thousand irons in the fire. Because the world is what it is, she's going to have an uphill battle. Your job will be to take every one of the less glamorous tasks she's going to dump on you and make her look like gold."

Sabrina already looked like gold, as far as Kyle was concerned, but he supposed he could polish--if she'd let him. Thus far, no dimension existed where she'd let him. The woman was a power unto herself. Kyle swallowed and nodded.

For a moment longer, Brian stared at Kyle. He then pushed his glasses up and massaged his sinuses. Returning his attention to his charges, Brain's glare took in the two of them. "Starting this moment, right now, you two are a team. I'm not blind. Don't think that I haven't noticed how the two best engineers I've hired in the past decade bicker. Not this time. This little competition you two have, however it started, whoever is at fault, stops now! One of you fails, you both fail. Support each other! Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" Kyle said.

Sabrina side eyed Kyle. She licked her lips. She swallowed, as though her throat were too dry for words. She licked her lips a second time. It felt like a ball of rubber bands was being wrapped about Kyle's heart. It burned. Sabrina's attention returned to Brian. Her chin bobbed in the barest nod.

"Speak up, Sabrina."

"Y--" Her voice cracked. "--es."

"Good." Brian finally took his seat. "I need a list of the projects you two are on. Where the files are. How far you've gotten. But you can email that from Wyoming, if necessary. You have until Sunday morning to find pet sitters, cancel cable, freeze protect your pipes and whatever other shit you need to get done. Check your email, every few hours. I will send details, plane tickets, car rental and whatever else I think you need as I can. I've already got your lodging. You're going to have to share the same cabin, if it can be called that. The place is tiny and costs more than a penthouse in LA. It's also the only thing available within a hundred mile radius. So don't kill each other."

Have You Seen You Dance

Sabrina

Sabrina dumped purse, phone, laptop, books, reference manuals and prints upon the Formica countertop of her Silver Lake apartment when she stumbled in. She went back to her car for the piles of Watt Engineering issued fire rated clothing, FRC, she'd be required to wear on the job at BO. She stripped out of her pant suit, wiggled into some skinny jeans and a blouse. She made a small feast out of lunch because whatever was left in her refrigerator, come tomorrow night, would have to go to the neighbors. She was usually the first engineer in the office in the mornings. She was often the last engineer in the office in the evenings. Being home before one on a workday made Sabrina's skin itch.

But she needed to get down and see the apartment manager to find out if she could swing a lower rent, reduced utilities or some such. She didn't really want to give up her spot on the lake. Nor did she want to be looking for someplace to crash when she returned home in six months. But paying full price for a vacant apartment would be a major bummer.

As expected, the management of Silver Lake Apartments was happy to continue collecting her rent. They reluctantly lowered her out of pocket a smidgen for reduced utility usage. They were not excited about her car sitting in the lot, unattended, for six months.

A call to Brian Hayward solved that problem. Sabrina could leave her car in the secured lot at WE. He'd even offered to use it to commute fifty or so miles, every other week, to keep batteries, tires, suspension, oil and all that in good shape. Sabrina told him about the cat hair. Brian told her not to worry.

But she did. Worry that was. Sabrina's used, cat hair infused 2013 Ford Focus was a whole, Victorian staircase down from Brian's 2023 Maserati Quattroporte.

A half hour tapping on her phone canceled all her streaming services, save Spotify. It took significantly longer to convince her cable internet provider that she didn't want internet, or cable, or a totally obsolete landline in her home for the next six months. They kept trying to sell Sabrina bigger, faster packages. It was kind of like talking to a man, all, "what do I--" being the man "--want," and, not, "listen to what I--" being herself "--am telling you."

Done with that, Sabrina packed the extra-super-duper large duffle bag--like as long as she was tall--six foot--that she'd picked up at the Lynwood Outdoor's Man on the way home. She stuffed it until it would barely zip with jeans, blouses, button downs, period pants, hot dusty windy weather clothes and cold dusty windy weather clothes because in the next six months she'd need all that in Cracker, Wyoming. She loaded a suite carrier with one pant suit, just in case, one skirt suit, just in case, and both flats and pumps to go with them. Sabrina scrubbed a hand through her hair, exasperated. She was pretty much packing her whole closet except evening wear and her Fredrick's of Hollywoods. She was way over her luggage limit and would have to pay the airline extra. She did not think Brian, or WE, would mind given the circumstances.

Around four-thirty p. m., her phone pinged. Glad for the distraction, Sabrina retrieved it and pulled up her messages.

"Hey, B, you in the office today? I've been looking for you everywhere. I asked Ted and he just scowled." Joy had appended the text with a sad face emoji.

"Ted's a dick." Sabrina tapped out a second text. "And roly-poly."

"OMG, right? He should really be wearing a bra."

A squeak, a wannabe giggle, sounded in the back of Sabrina's throat. Part of her said they were being really, really mean--that they were being just as dickish, which was kind of disgusting given the anatomy involved, as Ted. Sabrina tried to diffuse the snowballing judgement she'd just lobbed at the unfortunate man.

"He's just upset about the public recognition I received today."

The dancing dots appeared, disappeared and reappeared. "IDK how to respond to that. Am I supposed to be happy, YAY, for you or why would that make a difference for him, sad?"

Even with millennial texting thumbs, it took a moment for Sabrina to type her response. "Brian H. told the whole team that I was one of WE's two best up and coming engineers. As I'm pretty certain THE ZIT is the other one. Ted was ruled out. I mean, in what universe, could the dickless be better than a sausage wielder?"

"IN EVERY UNIVERSE, B! But you have to stop. In my delicate condition I'm going to pass out from lol. People are going to think I've gone insane."

Sabrina blinked at her phone. "DELICATE CONDITION!?!"

"Oops." More dancing dots. "I need to see you B! Where r u?"

"I'm at home. You know, where we used to be neighbors b4 you left me for that dick wielder." Honestly, Sabrina was kind of jealous of Joy and her cowboy. Not that Sabrina wanted Cade even though he was hot, and kind, and smart and really, really romantic. She wanted what Joy and Cade had. Orgasms, like, every single day and lots of, to the bazillion times power, of love. And now they were going to be three. Which, considering the orgasms, no surprise there.

"What? Why? It's not even five. What happened?"

Sabrina cheerleader bounced on her toes. Despite multiple downers, excitement had been building all day. "I'm packing. I got the lead on the BO fire rebuild!"

"OMG! That's so big. You SO deserve it!" The dancing dots continued their polka. "I'm catching an Uber right now. I'll tip him extra if he gets me to SL in under 30."

"It's after 4. It'll take you 50 minimum, J."

Sabrina was correct. But that didn't mean she got one more lick of packing done. Their conversation never stopped, it barely paused while Joy was in her Uber app. Fifty-three minutes, thirty-seven seconds later they were screaming and bouncing and hugging each other in the open doorway of Sabrina's apartment.

"You're in Seattle, Joy! Why didn't you tell me?"

Joy was a tall brunette, only a finger shorter than Sabrina, with the most beautiful, aquamarine eyes Sabrina and, apparently, Cade had ever seen. Her smile could power a supernova. While she'd grown up in the city, she'd always been a little bit cowgirl. Her Wranglers had pink sequins on the hip pocket.

"The antique 984 on Bangor Trident Base's munitions recovery site had a hiccup. I had to poke around and download the program so I could rewrite it in something modern. I wanted seeing you to be a surprise."

Sabrina escorted her BFF into her apartment. "So... how long?"

Joy shrugged. "Two and a half months? About that? I've only known for a week. It was the morning sickness that tipped me off. My OB says I'm lucky. Or luckier than some. I pretty much lose my cookies first thing in the morning and then eat enough to choke a horse. After that I feel sorta normal for the rest of the day."

"Blerg."

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"Because I knew I was coming out here and I wanted to see your face. I'm so bummed I spilled on text. I'm chalking it up to hormones."

"Well, I was kinda in shock. And then I screamed. So imagine that."

Joy laughed, like a bell, bright and clear. Light radiated off her. Since Cade, Joy had lived up to her name. "Okay, imagining," she said with the biggest grin scrawled across her face.

"Does Cade know?"

Joy giggled. A touch of pink touched her cheeks and for a heartbeat she looked abashed. "Sorry Bee, you're now the second person that gets to know everything about me."

Sabrina rolled her eyes, at herself, because, really, how had she not known that? "Is he over the moon?"

"Yyyyeeesss!" Joy buzzed with so much excitement that the word squealed. They grabbed each other and bounced, because standing still was not an option. Sabrina was so happy for her BFF, the woman deserved the world. Sabrina was pretty sure Cade would give it to her or die trying. If Joy'd been into women, Sabrina would've died trying. Oh-em-gee she envied them--in the best way.

"So what's new with you?" Joy said gaining control of her bouncy body even though joy still spilled off her in radiant waves. "BO lead?"

"Yeah." Sabrina waved at the piles of cloths and suitcases. She still had to make Glad bag garment protectors for the business and evening wear she was leaving behind. "Six months. 120 electricians. Maybe more. Probably more." Even Sabrina heard the note of fear that crept into her excited voice.

"You can do it."

Faith. Unequivocal, unquestioning, faith. Sabrina felt herself swell so full, tears beaded. God, she missed Joy.

Joy guided Sabrina to the couch and dragged her down to sit beside her. "Tell me everything."

Sabrina did. From there they moved to other projects. Victories. Stubbed toes. Christina Koch. Horses. Babies. Baby rooms. Baby's daddy. With Joy, the conversation always came back to Cade.

It'd grown late and even though Sabrina needed to get rid of food, she really didn't want to cook. Locking the door behind them, they walked the lakeshore to Emorie's. Joy gave her a free pass until they were seated.

"The Zit, has he asked you out yet?

"What? No! Haven't you listened to me? Like ever? He hates me!"

"Everyone with half a brain likes you, Bee."

"Not Kyle."

"I'm pretty sure he does."

Sabrina ignored Joy. "I told you he's my co-lead, right? It's going to be awful."

"Not the way I heard it. You're the lead. He's your... adjunct?"

"Adjunct, sure." Sabrina's voice bled sarcasm. "He's got the dick. Did I tell you that Brian held him back after our briefing was over."

"Do you know why?"

"No, Brian probably issued him a pair of kid gloves to handle me--telling him to back me up despite me being a little girl in a man's world. There was only going to be one BO lead until a girl volunteered."

"Or," Joy said, "Brian could've been doing just the opposite."

"It's still patronizing. It shouldn't be necessary."

"Sabrina, we don't know why Brian kept Kyle back. For all we know, they were talking about fantasy football picks."

"It's not even NFL preseason."

Joy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure, okay. Sabrina I was just saying--"

"Yeah. Yeah. I get it. I'm being pissy."

The waiter came and took their orders. It was weird watching Joy pass up the chocolate stout on the menu--because that was her drink. Sabrina was still having a hard time wrapping her head around baby.

After the waiter left, Joy said, her voice somber, "So, how's Carl?"

Sabrina played with her water glass. "We went to Anthony's last night."

"Uh-hu."

"Do you know how many megawatts a supercarrier consumes?"

A crooked smile bowed Joy's lips. "I'm sure Google does."

"You're no fun."

Joy rolled her eyes.

"Evening ladies," a deep voice rumbled vibrating something in Sabrina's core. Once more, Sabrina had to crane her head up and up and up for her gaze to reach the face topping the wall of muscle blocking her view. Even Joy's Cade blinded eyes looked a little glassy as they took in the Babylonian god standing before them. Sabrina's fingers fluttered on her collarbone. If Joy and Cade made Sabrina long for kisses and cuddles, Cole made her want to bend over.

"Hi, Cole."

A crooked smile carved Cole's Dwayne-Johnson-be-jealous face with the high cheekbones and almost unconscious smolder. "Hi," he rumbled. "I don't intend to interrupt you girls' evening. I just thought I'd pop over and say, 'hello,' seeing how we keep running into each other, Sabrina."

"No. No. Join us," Sabrina's backstabbing BFF said pointing to Sabrina's side of the booth with her finger--on the hand that glittered with Cade's custom, absolutely inspired wedding ring. They'd both oohed and awed over it during the wedding reception. Joy'd nearly swooned when Cade first placed it on her finger.

"Sure, if you don't mind."

"We don't mind," Joy said before Sabrina could open her mouth.

In second place, Sabrina muttered gobbledygook that sounded a lot like, "Yes we do," but neither Joy nor Cole paid her any mind. She had to smash right up against the wall in their booth because Cole needed the space required by two normal people. As he slid in beside her, Sabrina mouthed, "I hate you," at Joy.

Joy just smirked at Sabrina. She pleated her fingers, rested her chin upon them and while fluttering her lashes, asked, "So... how did you two meet?"

"At a dance club." Shoulder to mountainous shoulder, Cole's pedal tone voice vibrated Sabrina's very bones as though they were tuning forks.

"I was on a date."

"Not a very fun one. And your dude didn't seem to mind. If he had, I would've backed down."

"Why? You're like bigger than Mt. Rainier. Next to you, Carl's Mt. Pisgah."

Joy's eyes flicked back and forth between them. A silly smile split her lips as though she were happy to be forgotten.

"Because, not cool. I broke Bro Code just asking you to dance. I'd have never let you dance with some stranger had we been on a date together. You'd have been too busy dancing with me. I'm glad I asked though."

Sabrina's eyes narrowed. She was getting a kink in her neck. She was no shrimp but even seated, he was really, really very much taller than she. Not Zit height taller, but still. "Why's that?"

"Have you seen you dance?"

In response to the perplexed expression that must've etched Sabrina's face, Cole pressed his index finger into the table top. A sizzling sound escaped his lips.

Joy laughed.

Morning Sickness

Sabrina

Sabrina woke up to the worst wake up sound in the world. She leapt up, tripped over the pile of suitcases scattered about her room and hop-hobbled to the bathroom. Joy, wearing little but a safety orange tee that Sabrina suspected had once been Cade's, clutched a knot of her mahogany colored hair in one fist while hugging the toilet with her unoccupied arm.

"Are you okay?" Sabrina asked, alarmed.

Joy gave Sabrina a thumbs-up without looking up. Sabrina palmed her forehead, because, dumbest question ever.

"Can I get you anything? Hold your hair?"

"Mouthwash. Water," Joy croaked. "A mountain of pancakes, or waffles, or a rocky-road pickle split."

Sabrina nearly pretended to gag, because, that last one. She thought better of it before she accidently eroded Joy's constitution further. "Here." She dragged an industrial sized bottle of mouthwash out from under the sink and plunked it on the two inches of free counter space beside the basin. Her tiny vanity simply didn't have enough room for everything a woman needed. She fetched a glass of water from the sink, set it beside the mouthwash and rooted around in the kitchenette for one of her seldom used mixing bowls.

Fifteen minutes later Joy hopped up on one of the barstools flanking the kitchenette's sit in counter. Joy looked surprisingly chipper for someone that'd just been hugging a toilet. Sabrina loaded the first of the pancakes she'd cooked on a plate. Joy dug in like she never expected to see food again.

"That," Sabrina said pointing the pancake spatula at Joy's shirt, "is bright."

Joy looked up from her plate, her cheeks chipmunk full. "It's Cade's favorite lingerie," she said around the mouthful.

"What? Why?"

Joy shrugged. "Something about a dream." She went back to shoveling her food with the speed of a two pole motor. "I bought some more just like it. Now I've just got to get Cade to wear them."

"Why does Cade have to wear them? I thought that you were the one that wore lingerie?"

"Get with the program, Bee. So they'll smell like him. Duh."

"You two are so..." Sabrina was beginning to wonder if Joy's and Cade's honeymoon didn't have an expiration date. Kind of like how The Zit kept popping up in her life. Farts, why was she thinking about Kyle?

"In love?" Joy finished for Sabrina. Joy had sagged in her chair. The dreamy look in her eyes suggested she was no more than a Btu from melting into a puddle on the floor. She returned from her fairy tale world with visible effort. "So tell me about this guy, Cole," she said, shoving another elephantine bite of pancake into her mouth.

It was Sabrina's turn to shrug. She loaded another three pancakes on Joy's plate which Joy ate just as fast. "What's to tell?"

"More or less likely to bed you than Kyle?"

"More." Sabrina rolled her eyes so hard she thought she might sprain a muscle. "But I'm still dating, Carl."

"I know. What's up with that, anyway? I introduced you two as study partners, not as date for keepsies partners. I suppose it was fun when it started but I'm going to be so pissed at myself if you marry him."

Why? Not like she'd been planning to, but sometimes it felt like they might be headed that way. Momentum and all that. But--

"Why? What's wrong with, Carl?" Sabrina asked. Her skin felt itchy.

"Nothing's wrong with Carl except that Carl's not right for you--or, ultimately, you him. Have you told him yet you're going away for six months?"

"No. You don't think he'll wait?"

"He'll wait. But he shouldn't. Neither should you. That Cole guy was yum but my money's still on The Zit. Once upon a time I would've placed you making a pass at someone else." Joy's cheeks pinked. "But I wasn't into girls like that and you obviously got that."

Alarm zinged through Sabrina, electrifying her nerves. She told Joy everything--except that. She never told a woman she was bi unless she was sure the woman was into women--it just complicated things. If Joy weren't straighter than a Nebraska highway Sabrina would've tried to put a ring on Joy's finger. But she was, so she hadn't, and she was glad. No one, not even she, could make Joy as happy as Cade made Joy happy. Joy was her best friend. That was more than enough.

"I didn't know you knew..." She had no idea what to say. How did she tell her BFF that she'd once wanted to date her?

Joy blushed--Joy blushed often--and then smiled that brilliant, supernova smile of hers. "Of course I knew. You're my best friend. You held my world together when it was falling apart so no one is complaining on this end."

Much later, after Sabrina had kicked Joy to the curb, because someone had to ride over to her parent's house and tell her Mom and Dad about baby Coy--no--baby Jade--before she flew back to Sun Valley and the arms of the man that made her whole world go around, Sabrina stared at her phone. She'd been putting it off so long that the car was packed, Glad bag garment protectors filled her closet, the refrigerator was emptied and the freezer was defrosted.

All Sabrina had left to do was make the call. Blerg, was morning sickness contagious? She pulled up Carl's contact info and pushed dial.

"Hey, Girly Girl, what's up?"

Urgh. That name. She'd not be sorry to stop hearing that name. "I was wondering if we--" The 520 floating bridge twisted into a helix before it sank into Lake Washington. Sabrina's stomach felt like it might've been doing the same thing. She so didn't want to do this right now. But one of Joy's relationship predictions was correct. Sabrina's and Carl's time was up. Which meant Sabrina couldn't do this by text, or by phone, if it could be helped. "--could meet up?"

"Oh, man, Girly Girl. I wish I could. But I'm on the way to Steve's. The guys and I are doing a Fortnite night." Carl huffed at his lame pun.

"Oh, okay, I was just--"

"Oh, shit, Bee, you sound upset. Do I need to call it off?"

"No. No. No!" Every syllable came out louder than the one before. Oh farts, she should grab a wastebasket or something because that knot in her stomach really felt like it might do a Joy. Sabrina sucked in a centering breath. "I pulled a gig in Wyoming. I'm on a plane in the morning."

"Ah, that blows. How long? I'll frame a date for when you get back."

Sabrina nearly ralphed. She was going to break up with Carl on Fortnite night. And she was going to do it over the phone. She might not be all that into Carl anymore but she did care. "Six months."

A car horn blare sounded over the line. Carl growled something too far from the receiver for Sabrina to catch.

"I must've heard you wrong. Dumbass car honking." Carl chuckled into the phone. He sounded strained. "I though you said, 'six months.'"

Sabrina sank to her couch and pulled her knees up to her chin. She could've really used some of Kyle's stoicism right now. "I did."

Silence for a beat. Then a second. And a third.

"You'll come back sometimes. Once a month. Pay the bills and some such, right?"

"No."

"Fuck." The word was muttered away from the receiver, but Sabrina still heard it. Carl's voice climbed an octave. "But you are coming back?"

"Yes. To Seattle. In six months." She vacuumed in a breath. Her lungs quaked. She tried so hard to say, "Not to you," but couldn't make the words come out. It didn't feel entirely fair to do that to him, like this, over the phone. They had two years of history.

"Hmm. Okay. Six months is a long time. Maybe I can work out a way to visit. Do the long distance thing." Another car horn sounded from his end. "Shit. Fuck. Got to go Girly Girl."

"Carl!" she yelled into her phone. "I'm breaking up with you--as in we're not dating--not now, not long distance, not when I get back."

The screen on her phone turned black. Sabrina wondered at what point Carl'd hung up. She shot him a text, because what she had needed to say, could not, not be said, but she hated it, and herself.

He never replied. Forty minutes later, the neighbors called the cops after Carl tried to break down her door.

Take it Back

Kyle

It was clear that Sabrina had had a long night. Their flight had taken them from SeaTac to Salt Lake City by way of Denver. They still had a three hour drive ahead of them. When he'd offered to drive, she'd not even hinted at asserting her independent woman persona. Now his angel was making cute little snoring noises from the passenger seat. They hadn't even spent ten seconds onsite and there were already shadows under her eyes. Kyle would've bet dollars to pennies that it had to do with a man.

Because no man in his right mind would let this woman go without a fight and six months was a long time to go once one had become addicted to her light. Kyle knew. He'd done it. The world had been a darker place. Kyle tried to shake the white knight impulse that clutched his chest whenever he intuited the slightest distress within Sabrina. Over the past nineteen years he'd had plenty of firsthand experience of having that sentiment thrown back in his face.

As their ETA reduced from three hours, to two hours and crept towards one, traffic grew heavier. Once every two minutes, a three trailer tanker truck, hauling crude oil wax, roared by on the southbound side of the highway at twenty over the speed limit. A convoy of contractors and their white, tool box trucks closed in around Kyle's and Sabrina's rental sedan.

A long plume of dust similar to that which a tractor plowing a field might kick up appeared on the horizon. Soon the plume was a towering wall stretching off towards the mountains to the west--a muddy brushstroke across the bottom of the flaming hydrogen sky.

The base of the atmosphere climbing dust wall resolved itself into a heavily traveled, pulverized gavel road. As they approached, the GPS began to babble that they should follow the contractor caravan turning that way. Sabrina woke as Kyle turned the sedan off the pavement. Washboard bumps threatened to rattle the car's suspension apart in ten seconds flat. A crude wax truck barreled by and kicked up so much dust the taillights of the pickup no more than two car-lengths ahead disappeared in a mocaccino colored "whiteout"--a mochaout.

Sabrina's eyes rounded in alarm. Kyle saw her mouth form something, but if she'd actually spoken, the words were lost in the Mater like rattle bounce of the sedan. A quarter mile beyond the intersection, the road smoothed from a bone jarring battering to the odd pothole bump. After a minute, the dust cleared enough Kyle could again see the taillights of the F150 leading them until the next three trailer tanker blew past them.

Apparently convinced that she wasn't seconds from becoming a dark stain upon the road, Sabrina scooched down in her seat until her knees kissed the dash. She fished in her purse and ducked her chin towards her window-side shoulder. It wasn't until she ran her fingers through her honey gold hair that he realized she was using her phone's selfie camera to check for bedhead. Satisfied, she changed position, her feet on the dash, her head and shoulders folded into her seat's backrest. Her phone cradled over her belly, she began to type.

"Good morning to you too."

Sabrina turned a blank stare upon him. After a beat, she stuck out her tongue and turned her attention back to her phone. The action shouldn't have given Kyle any ideas but an appendage swelled with unfortunate pressure at the kitten cute expression she'd gifted him.

"Who you texting?"

Sabrina didn't look up or even slow her typing. "Joy."

Kyle didn't know any Joys. An inflating balloon burn pressed against his sternum. There were too many things he didn't know about Sabrina. At eleven he'd wanted to know everything. Apparently, that urge hadn't changed in the past nineteen years.

"Who's Joy?" he said, because he couldn't leave Sabrina alone. Not when she was a chained audience.

This time Sabrina did pause, her thumbs hovering a pinky width from the phone. She turned to him and gave him the same blank stare from before. Kyle suspected her gears were churning, but Sabrina's expression hid it well.

"A friend."

Friend. She meant someone unlike him.

Apparently not interested in waiting to see if he had more to say, she turned back to her cell without revealing another hint as to what was going on in her head. She typed a few more words, hit send and laid the phone face down upon her belly. For the a beat, the cacophony of spitting gravel, pot hole rattle and a tractor trailer blowing past stretched into an uncomfortable silence.

"What?" Sabrina said, reproach in her tone.

The cacophony silence again. Another tanker truck, Jake brakes thundering, roared into the turn they'd just exited. Kyle vacuumed a centering breath. It did not relieve the burn in his chest.

"I'd take it back if I could."

The words hung in the air for a heartbeat. Sabrina said, "Take what back?"

"That time I pulled your hair."

Shock lit Sabrina's face. Then her warm, burnt cinnamon brown, eyes narrowed. "What about the other two-hundred-seventy times?"

"I did not pull your hair two-hundred-seventy times."

Sabrina bolted to an upright position. "You pulled my ponytails, pigtails and braids every day for an entire school year! I stopped putting my hair up because of you!"

"I--" He didn't remember that. He did remember that she had stopped putting her hair up, but he'd only pulled her hair once. He'd gotten detention. Hadn't he? "--I don't remember that."

"In homeroom. Mrs. Olsen's class." She spewed the words like she were spitting dragon's fire. "We had assigned seating. You were right behind me. How do we always get assigned seats next to each other? Our names aren't even vaguely the same!" Sabrina threw her hands over her head in exasperation. She smacked the sedan's ceiling.

"Ow." She shook out her fingers.

"I... I'm sorry." He didn't remember it that way. But that didn't matter, she did. There was nothing to be gained, and much to be lost, by bringing her closer to his point of view. Perception was an illusion. Illusion, by definition, was a lie. Truth could not be found by bisecting the line between two lies. So the best he could accomplish was to convince her of a different lie, which would hurt her and him. "All I wanted was for you to look at me."

Surprise etched Sabrina's face. "Why?" The word came out on a crescendo.

"Because--" Steel banded about Kyle's throat. He could not tell this woman that hated him that she was both then and now the most beautiful thing that he'd ever seen.

But he could not lie either. So, antimatter coalescing in his chest, he lied by omission. Kyle could not form the words that pointed towards the truth.

Sabrina's expression fell. She muttered grouchily but the words were lost as three more trailers of crude wax blasted by. Before the cacophonous silence grew too long, their GPS began babbling about an up coming turn. They passed a Pilot station, the first structure Kyle had seen in the past hour. There were probably fifty semi waiting in line for one of the eight fueling lanes to open up. A four storied hotel sat a little behind the station. It was similar in style to the Little American off of Interstate-80 in Wyoming and aged before its time by the excessive dust.

The sedan hit another quarter mile of washboard bumps which cleared a few hundred yards beyond their turn. Many of the contractors turned with them, but the tanker road trains were blessedly left behind. Out Sabrina's window, the dust cleared. A few miles distant a refinery silhouette of fractionation columns, heater stacks and a cracker with its trademark candy cane pipe off the top came into view. Mountains, on the border of Utah, rose up behind it. Sabrina pressed her nose to the dust coated glass trying to get a clearer view of their next six months.

A minute later they entered Cracker. Kyle's first impression of the town was that of a one horse, old western, Deadwood wannabe from an old Regan movie. But the weathered, stick built houses were doublewide. The corral, an RV dump station. The General Store, a cinderblock Quickmart. The saloon, a Twin Peaks kind of place stylized as Two Buttes. XXX-Cowgirls-XXX, neon sign and all, looked right at home in place of the brothel. From what Kyle could see of the town's populace, the entertainers probably had to be imported from the nearest college campus.

Towards the south end of town the gravel "Main Street" faded into a delta of rutted tracks meandering through a maze of RV, fifth wheel and travel trailers. The GPS had them turn into a dusty lot overflowing with F150s and Silverado. At the head of the lot, a tired doublewide served as some kind of office.

Sabrina turned to him. She didn't say anything but WTF was clearly painted on her face. They exited the vehicle. Like most everything in Cracker, the silver sedan was mocha brown with dust. Sabrina caught the side of a rock with the wedge heel on one of her booties and nearly rolled an ankle on the walk to the double wide.

While the dust was thinner inside than outside, it still made its presence known. The "office" was no bigger than Kyle's childhood bedroom. The industrial grade carpet was threadbare and worn through to the baseboard in front of the door. There were a few tired looking seats partitioned against a wall beside a plastic ficus. As they entered, a stocky woman with more gray than white in her hair, set aside an Ali Hazelwood book and pushed to her feet behind a low counter. She dressed like a woman more used to cattle wrangling than paper pushing.

The woman looked between the two of them. "We don't rent by the hour." Kyle heard more statement than judgment but he still felt fire climbing up his neck. Miraculously, Sabrina didn't even blink.

"Is this, uh, The Tool Shed?" Sabrina pulled up an email on her phone and showed it to the woman behind the counter. "We have a reservation."

The woman squinted at Sabrina's phone through a pair of wire rimmed glasses. She typed something on a keyboard where the polished, keys spoke of long use. "Huh, long term. You're going to be here longer than three months?"

"Most likely. We're working the BO fire," Sabrina said.

The woman looked the two of them up and down. Her gaze lingered on Sabrina's pink blouse, skinny jeans and wedge heeled booties. "I'm Linda--" She squinted at her computer screen. "--Mrs. DeLane."

Sabrina turned a shade reminiscent of her blouse. "I'm not--we're not..." She pointed between herself and Kyle.

Linda quirked an eyebrow behind the frame of her glasses. "Well, this ought to be interesting." Kyle thought her gaze might've flit to her romance.

"Why is it called The Tool Shed?" Kyle asked.

"You'll see," Linda said grabbing a pair of keys of a near empty hook board. "You'll be in shed eleven." She motioned for them to follow her out a back door.

As she stepped over the threshold, Sabrina halted. Kyle skid to a stop so close his chin brushed Sabrina's hair. A hint of apple tickled his nose.

"Oh-em-gee," Sabrina breathed.

Kyle understood the sentiment. This was not what he had been expecting. From their vantage point four rows of tool sheds sized "houses" marched a quarter mile across the Wyoming steppe. A large cinderblock building occupied a space roughly halfway down the two center rows. Tired window air conditioners rattled along with a low, pervasive hum. The sheds, all roughly the same size, did indeed look like miniature homes in a variety of styles but the everywhere dust robbed them of character.

Sabrina looked back at Kyle, nearly bopping his nose with her forehead. She quirked a bemused smile and then hurried down a short stair in Linda's wake. Kyle followed more slowly.

Linda led them to a shed with an exterior style that looked a bit like a barn had had a love child with a bungalow. The interior was clean but had seen some heavy living. Linda pointed out the thermostat and shared the wifi password. The "living room" contained an easy chair, love seat, coffee table and TV. The kitchenette, if it could be called that, had a microwave, toaster oven, hotplate and a sink.

"Bed is in the loft. There's no room service. Housekeeping on Mondays and Fridays. Trash is collected on Tuesdays. There's a bin outside." Linda pointed towards the north wall.

"Bed? As in one?" Sabrina said. Had Kyle imagined it or had her voice climbed in pitch. Then her words registered. His gaze flew to the significantly short loveseat.

Oh shit. "Is there any way to..." Kyle said to Linda.

"There's room for a cot but you'll have to provide y'r own. I'm flat out." Linda pushed past them and led them back to the porch, such as it was. She pointed towards the cinderblock building. "Bathrooms and showers are there. You," she said nodding to Sabrina, "won't have a line." Linda winked at Sabrina. Sabrina nodded without comment but her failure to speak suggested to Kyle that she might be second guessing her decision to come to Cracker. Kyle was second guessing his decision to come to Cracker.

Linda spun a key off the ring and handed it to Sabrina. She handed the ring with the second key to Kyle. "Try to keep the screaming to a minimum once the honeymoon is over. If one of you kills the other, I don't want to know where you buried the evidence."

Same joke that Brian had made. What was it that everyone saw in them? It was a joke, wasn't it?

I've Never Hated You

Sabrina

After fetching their bags, Sabrina cajoled Kyle into a shopping trip at the tiny market that sold fifty brands of beer and only three varieties of fresh produce. The unanswered question of sleeping space hung between them the entire time. Sabrina didn't really see that as any more of an issue than being forced to live with The Zit. Brian couldn't have known this and she wasn't about to tell him. He'd recall her and there was no way, no how, she was going to be kicked off this job for something as silly as "sharing a bed." She might sometimes daydream about tracing Kyle's muscles with her tongue but their history would keep things cold when, and where, it counted. He could have his side of the bed. She'd sleep on hers. So, after stocking the mini frig with the makings of tomorrow's breakfast, she tossed her smaller bags up in the loft. She slung her duffle bag over her shoulder and started up the ladder.

Turned out hauling a six foot bag that weighed more than she did when she was bloated and soaking wet up a ladder was more awkward than it looked.

"Here, let me get that."

Sabrina's automatic, "I can handle it," response nearly exited her mouth, but they were supposed to be a team. She wasn't just going to let The Zit take care of it, but maybe they could work together. "How 'bout you hand it up to me?" He nodded and she slipped the deadweight bag off her shoulder into his waiting hands. He shouldered the mass like it could've most easily been weighed in dram. Farts, now she was dreaming of Kyle's muscles and what they might taste like once more. That sun heated La Croix fizzle between her thighs suggested her girly bits might not stay as cold where it counted when it came to the bed.

But she was not going to make a teammate, no matter how annoying, sleep for six months on a love seat that probably wouldn't have fit him as a toddler. She scrambled up the ladder and pirouetted on the balls of her feet. She squatted to take her bag.

"Careful you don't fall," Kyle said as he handed the duffel bag up to her as though it weighed less than an ounce--yup, dram for sure. Sabrina rolled her eyes and reached for the bag. She nearly did a nose dive out of the loft when its full deadweight load made a stretched slinky of her arms. She grunted, rocked back and yanked the duffle bag up.

The bag landed in her lap. She landed on her tail. "Ow."

"You okay?"

"Yup." She wasn't going to tell him she'd frightened herself with her almost swan dive. Not after he told her to be careful. "No injuries but my pride." Sabrina struggled to her feet. A loud knock sounded when she whapped her head on a rafter. "Ow!"

"Sabrina?"

"I'm okay. I'm okay," she said, eyeballing the offending strut. While in the loft, ducking was going to be mandatory. She imagined Kyle might have to crawl.

"Ow," she said again, under her breath. She rubbed the back of her head and dragged her bags over to the dresser. As she'd brought hangers for her cloths and could hook them over the two-by-four rafters, she managed to save Kyle a drawer by leaving some of her clothes in her bags.

"You coming up?" Sabrina called when she realized he hadn't joined her.

"I'm fine down here."

"What about your clothes?"

"They'll be fine down here with me."

"Kyle Ivan Maurer!" Sabrina did not remember when she'd first learned his middle name. But nineteen years. She'd learned things. "You are not sleeping on that IKA excuse for a loveseat." She could stand up straight between rafters so long as she wasn't too close to the wall and she did so. She planted her fists on her hips, although Kyle couldn't see her.

"The bed is like a king." It wasn't. It was a queen. "There's plenty of room." There wasn't. At six foot, she would've covered the whole bed if she sprawled. She often did. Kyle's feet would be hanging off the end while his head bumped the headboard. "I sleep on the edge of the mattress anyway." That was true. Sometimes. Sabrina often awakened with an arm and leg dangling off the mattress when she shared a bed with Carl. She figured it would be the same with Kyle--if she didn't just end up on the floor.

"I'll be fine."

Weaving her head between rafters, Sabrina moved over to the top of the ladder. "Kyle, It's six months."

"Like I said, I'll be fine."

"No you won't." Sabrina stomped her foot. The loft vibrated. "We're a team. It's not even the first day. Don't make me pull rank!"

Kyle appeared at the base of the ladder his face the color of Beetlejuice. He climbed the ladder. The intimidating glare he laser focused on Sabrina was ruined by the fact he had to bow in order to remain standing. Sabrina stepped to the bed. She plopped her seat on the mattress. There was a surprising amount of bounce.

"See. Plenty of room." She patted the bed beside her.

"There. Is. Not."

"Oh, come on. We're adults."

"I hadn't noticed." Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

Sabrina stuck out her tongue.

Kyle cycled a heavy sigh. He tried to run a hand through his hair but whacked a rafter instead. "Bee, that's actually the problem."

Sabrina sobered. She resisted the urge to squirm under his gaze. "I get it, Kyle. I do. But you can't sleep on that couch, not for a night, not for six months. Neither can I. We've hated the sight of each other since home room in sixth grade. I don't think we're going to have a problem now."

Sabrina couldn't interpret the expression that washed across Kyle's face. Fatigue? Frustration? Sorrow?

"Sabrina, I've never hated you."

The Hamster

Sabrina

A day later, Sabrina was having a hard time paying attention while Kyle's words still bounced about in her brain. Safety orientation had been a million different versions of petroleum burns, don't light matches, if it smells bad, it is bad, if you can't smell anything, it's really bad and don't take air for granted, it's not always present.

They'd also been told don't fall, don't walk under things that can fall, pyrophorics don't need an ignition source--don't give them air--and, Sabrina's personal favorite, BLEVE, boiling liquid expanding vapor explosion. It had properties similar to a fantasy RPG fireball--and was even more deadly.

They'd been given an office that made The Tool Shed look spacious, modern and ultra-clean. They'd met the Mountain Industrial Services lead, a guy named Martin. He was the first male they'd come across that didn't make Sabrina feel like they'd assumed she was Kyle's fluffer. To top it off, the black stuff that was making her Red Wing boots stick to the floor probably contained cancer causing benzene.

Still, the hamster in her brain had decided solving the mystery behind, "Sabrina, I've never hated you," was the most pressing problem of all. Far more pressing than the hundred million prints that Kyle, Martin, she and Ted, WE's electrical assessment engineer, had spread across every available surface. The night prior, she and Kyle had gone to sleep ready to fall off the respective sides of their bed. Sabrina had awaken that morning in the middle of the mattress hugging Kyle's arm. Said when-does-he-have-time-to-work-out arm had been draped across her chest. Something very hard and very hot had been making a dent in her backside. That was why, the hamster claimed, solving the mystery behind, "Sabrina, I've never hated you," was so important.

Yup, priorities. Important stuff first.

"So, first order of business is it to get power to the controls system," Ted said.

Wait? What? "No," Sabrina said, wrenching her thoughts away from the dick that'd been denting her ass. It took effort but she forced the hamster to shut up so she could concentrate. "These tranformers, here, here and here are within the fire boundaries, right? So are these starters. And all these motors. We need teams PI testing. We need to tear apart and rebuild every one of these medium voltage starters. We not only need IR and turns ratio testing on the transformers but every transformer electrically close."

Martin nodded. Ted, he that needed a bra, objected. "That'll take a month. We need to start running tray."

"We will but it'll cost three months if that blower--" She pointed to a six thousand horse power motor on the prints. "--blows on startup. If it needs to be rebuilt, we need to know now."

Kyle said nothing, because, civ--which went to prove civil engineers weren't the end all and be all of engineering that the ASCE lobby claimed them to be. A Blackwax Oil big wig stood in the corner watching.

"Once we get power, we can do smoke testing. It'll be faster."

Sabrina threw up her hands. Smoke testing was shorthand for energizing equipment to see what smoked, caught on fire or simply blew up. "What the fuck, Ted. What are you trying to do, kill someone, start another fire, spend an extra ten million dollars?"

"BO doesn't have the time, Bee." Ted's emphasis on Bee reminded Sabrina of the first letter in the word 'bitch.' To keep from screaming, Sabrina reminded herself, 'roly-poly.' "Relaying will catch it," he finished.

"Relaying!" Sabrina squawked, Roly-Poly forgotten. "We need a team testing relays. Do we have a coordination study?"

"We lose more than ten million every week while we are down, Ms. DeLane," the BO representative said. He was a tawny dude of height with Sabrina wearing a three piece suit in an oil refinery. Benzene on his Christian Louboutin Greggo lace-ups didn't seem to bother him. He probably considered a thousand dollars, loose change. Despite using her name, 'three-piece' made eye contact with Kyle.

Sabrina took a step towards him, drawing his gaze at last. "And I'm giving you the fastest plan I can that doesn't risk further delays--or worse. But I'll have Martin put together a team to estimate cable-tray and wire lengths. We can get a gross estimate and get the first orders in."

"I can do that," Martian said. "The spec calls for steel tray. That can be hard to come by."

"What about the other teams?" Sabrina asked.

"I'll call my leads. You should meet them." Martin led Sabrina and Kyle out and ushered them into his truck. He made multiple calls as they drove. The damage to the refinery didn't look that bad until they were close but as Sabrina jumped from the parked vehicle she was already cataloging lists of catastrophic damage. She saw the same shock on Kyle's face as his eyes flit over structural cords, columns and piers.

The hamster said, "Sabrina, I've never hated you."

"Holy fuck, Whatever! You're here?"

Sabrina's eyes jerked off Kyle just in time for her to be wrapped in arms the size of old growth firs. Her hardhat popped off her head as her chin bounced off the shoulder of a Mt. Rainier mountain of muscle. "Cole," she squeaked as her hardhat spun across the soot blackened concrete. Conscious of like a million eyes upon her, she squirmed to extricate herself. Cole released her.

"What are you doing here?" he said as she chased after her hardhat as it bounced across the concrete equipment pad.

She caught the runaway headgear and placed it back where it belonged. "I could ask you the same."

"I work for this guy." Cole clapped a hand on Martin's shoulder. "Best boss I've ever had."

Martin, a few inches shorter than Sabrina, was dwarfed by Sin, yet somehow, the bearded man's calm presence, was bigger.

"And I," Martin said unruffled by Cole's antics, "report to Ms. DeLane."

"No shit? Oh man, Whatever, this is great. I thought I'd only get that one dance."

"Yeah." Sabrina smiled weakly. At least ten guys had gathered round, watching. Kyle was a few paces to the right. His face looked like a storm cell parked over an active volcano.

Sabrina, I've never hated you. Sabrina's brain stalled. Farts.

"Where's Landon?" Marten called to the gathered men.

"He's on hole watch, boss. Brandi and Kevin are down in the vault. Asked me to let you know," Cole said.

"'Kay." Martin's voice cresendoed. "Everyone gather round. This here is Sabrina DeLane. She's our electrical engineer. Beside her is Kyle Maurer. He's civil. If it's electrical, if it's ours, what she say, goes. If you have questions, ask them, but in the end, her word is law. Do you have anything you want to say, Ms. DeLane?"

"Yeah," she said. The word came out louder than she'd intended but she felt like she had to shout to be heard with all the work going on about them. The army of men crawling across the soot blackened CAT cracker would've made a colony of ants look lazy. She stepped forward putting her within the ring of electricians. "I'm Sabrina, or Bee, if you like. I'll answer to either one." She looked at Cole. "We can drop, Whatever. The joke was lame the first time." She'd not expected to be giving a speech in quite this manner, but she'd known it was coming, so she was prepared.

She echoed Brian. They and she were a team. She was there to make their jobs easier. She only succeeded if they did. It was a little unnerving putting her success in the hands of sausage wielders she'd only met three minutes prior. When she had stepped back, Martin called names, assigning team leads to the priorities she'd identified. Perhaps things wouldn't be as bad as Brian Hayward had feared.

You're Not Wrong

Kyle

"You're embarrassing me," Sabrina hissed at him across the table. Their waitress had just taken their order and Kyle was trying not to look at her tits--well, now, her ass. Because it was embarrassing how on display it was. A pushup bra could learn a thing or two from the midrift baring micro-shirt uniform Michelle, their waitress, was wearing. They were eating at Two Buttes because there weren't a lot of options for hot food in Cracker. After fourteen hours on the refinery proper they'd both been exhausted. Now Kyle was wishing he'd offered to cook, or suggested they eat at the truck stop diner rumored to be at the Pilot station, because a guy just didn't take a woman to a breastaraunt for dinner. Honestly, a guy with any self-respect didn't go to this type of place for dinner period--woman on his arm or no.

"Look, she knows what she's selling," Sabrina said. "Treat her with respect and it's no big deal. Act like you just got off the Puritan boat and she's going to be embarrassed."

"And how am I supposed to do that with her boobs like, right here?" Kyle made a window washing motion a few inches from his face.

"What are you, Kyle? Fifteen?"

"Okay," Kyle growled. He leaned back and crossed his arms. "How do you treat a woman with respect when her employer is serving her up as sex on a platter?"

"Same rules as a strip club. Except don't throw money at her or ask for a private dance. She chose to be here, after all."

"That's not helping me, Bee." He'd never been to a strip club.

"Oh-em-gee, Kyle, are you being real right now?"

"Yes," he growled.

"Fine. Look, don't touch--ever. Don't leer, because that's just creepy. You've got this covered, but even when you're looking, good hygiene is important, because just--" Sabrina rocked a full body shiver "--eeeww! If you're talking to her? Look her in the eyes, or at least her face. Her boobs don't talk. Ditto if she's talking to you, for the same reason. If she gets close to you and you have bad breath, pop a mint. If you don't, she will tell her friends. Dancing on some dude's lap with dog breath is like bathing in slugs." Sabrina fake ralphed. "Don't ask for favors. Don't judge! God, you'd be surprised how many dicks come in and then get that last one wrong--like you just did."

"And yes, I know, I just judged. But it was you, so that's okay." Sabrina waved her hand as if shooing a fly and turned away with a sour look on her face.

Kyle felt ill. Sabrina's words weren't digesting well. "How do you know all this, Bee?"

The expression Sabrina shot him was incredulous. "How do you think, Kyle?" Sarcasm dripped from her voice.

Kyle was missing something and it was making him uneasy. Sabrina was making him uneasy. "I don't know. That's why I asked."

"For real?" She sounded upset. She looked upset.

"For real. Why wouldn't I be 'for real?'"

"I just said, 'Don't judge!'" Upset? Had Kyle thought she was upset? She was pissed. Sabrina was leaning so far across their table it looked like she was ready to go all Jurassic Park raptor on him.

Kyle eased as far away from her as he could without exiting the booth. "Sabrina, what's going on? What did I say that has so you upset?"

Sabrina blinked. The anger didn't just drain away, she looked like she'd taken a two-by-four to the head. She swallowed, like there was a horse pill stuck in her throat. "You don't know," she croaked. "How do you not know? We went to the same schools. We were in the same classes."

The uneasy feeling was back. There was a black hole in Kyle's stomach. Sabrina shook her head, as though she were trying to clear it. "Know what, Bee?"

Her gaze dropped to her hands. She carefully pressed them flat on the table. When her eyes rose to his, Kyle saw vulnerability, but also a challenge. Kyle instinctively knew that she was going to say something important and if he reacted wrong, he'd lose something he didn't want to lose.

"I stripped, Kyle." She said it in a flat, quiet voice. An emotionless fact. She dropped her gaze. She did not appear to be hiding--it was just that there was nothing to see. "While in school. In high school too, when I was old enough. To pay for--stuff. It was not easy money, but it was fast money and we needed it."

To pay for stuff! Kyle wanted to scream. And we? We who? He didn't understand. Sure, her clothes hadn't been as nice as some kids, but he'd never seen lack. Why had she needed to pay for stuff? Stuff, like drugs stuff?

Very carefully, because she had trusted him, because he understood this was so much bigger than just tugging her hair in sixth grade, Kyle said, "I thought you had scholarships."

"I did. Tuition, books, dorms, food. But scholarships don't pay for clothes, cars, insurance, gas or medicaid."

"Medicaid?" Kyle breathed. "You were on medicaid?" He didn't actually have a good understanding what it meant to be on medicaid. Father had been a doctor. Mother a nurse practitioner. His family had no need for government subsidized insurance. He'd seen lack but not known lack. Perhaps that's how he'd not seen Sabrina's lack?

"My dad lost an arm threading a paper machine when I was four. My mom left us when I was six." Sabrina was still speaking with a flat, toneless pitch. Her eyes were studying her pink nails.

How had he not seen? How had none of their friends seen? Or had their friends seen and just not told him? He'd heard rumors about her parents, but not the dancing or the need that drove her there. "I--Bee, I didn't know. I didn't see. Nobody saw."

"You didn't want to see. I didn't want to be seen."

"I--" What was there that could be said? Kyle's heart felt like it was being wrapped in a ball of barbed wire.

"My Dad gave me everything--even though it cost him his health and happiness. He worked every job he could get, but he couldn't keep them. The world is built for two hands. No matter how good he got, people with two hands were just faster. Sooner or later someone would come along that would want, need, the job just as bad as he and be able to do it just as well, faster. It killed me when you got valedictorian. I was doing that for him. To show him that I could be better, do better, than everyone else, for him."

And now, Kyle hated himself. For him valedictorian had been a competition. Something to show Sabrina that he could be as smart as she was. To be worthy of her. He needed to ask about her Dad, to see how he fared, because of everything she'd said, he intuited Dad was the most important to her. She was Sabrina, because of Dad.

Apparently, he'd ponder her words too long. Sabrina raised her eyes to his. There was no light. Her soul was shuttered. "Kyle," she said, "this dinner conversation sucks."

Tell me about it. He'd just taken a one-two punch in the stomach from a woman he'd thought he'd known and realized he didn't know anything at all. Kyle felt sick.

"So what about them Seahawks? Woohoo!" Sabrina fake laughed and twirled a finger in the air. But there was a spark in her eye and a twitch on her lips that might've been real. How was she doing that? How was she so strong? How was she coming back so fast from--that? "How do you think they'll do in pre-season?"

Kyle groaned to himself. Football this, football that, dominated water cooler talk as August approached. He wasn't interested enough to keep up to date. "I don't follow football, Bee."

"Really?' Sabrina leaned her elbows on the table and blinked at him all innocent like. "What about the Beavers, do you think they'll do any good next season?"

"OSU? Really, Sabrina? Have they ever had a good season?"

"See, you follow football." She sat up. "But seriously, yes, they have the occasional good season. I think they've squashed the Ducks, like maybe, twice in the past hundred years? But I thought you loved football. You were always at Axeman games in high school."

Well, this was going to be revealing. Not on the same order of what she'd revealed, but still--Kyle's mental process braked so hard his neurons burned. He was judging her decisions against his decisions. She'd asked him not to do that and it wasn't fair anyway.

"I went to watch the cheerleaders, Bee."

"Oooh, see you do know how to look at girls." She paused, emphasizing her next words. "I've wondered."

Kyle sighed and rubbed his left temple. "I misspoke. A cheerleader. I went to watch a cheerleader."

"Oh." A heartbeat cycled. "Oh!" She twirled a blonde lock about her finger while her gaze drifted off over her shoulder. The brief splash of color that tinged her cheeks matched her nails. "So," she said, regaining her composure. "No football. Any sports?"

Kyle thought about it for a second. He had a feeling Sabrina liked sports and liking one might gain him some favor. But lying would train-wreck any advantage he might temporarily gain.

"I enjoy playing just about any sport I'm halfway competent at so long as I can play at a similar level to those I'm playing with. I enjoy watching anything that's fast paced, but I don't go out of my way to follow, understand and catch a given event. If it works out, cool. If not, oh well."

"Huh." Sabrina bit the side of her lip. "I kind of dig that. Enjoy it if that's what's given to you otherwise enjoy whatever is in front of you. Any sports you particularly enjoy? I've dated dudes that'd rather watch football than screw."

"I did not need to know that, Bee."

She twirled her hand in the air like she was fanning a fart. "Whatever, I wasn't being serious."

How did this woman constantly tie his nerves in a knot? He let out a heavy breath. "I'm tall, but don't like wind sprints, so net sports. Volleyball, tennis, racquetball. Stuff like that. But also baseball, to play, not watch."

"No basketball?"

"Wind sprints."

"Ah."

Their burgers arrived, interrupting the conversation. Michelle granted him a bright smile when Kyle thanked her.

After Michelle left, Sabrina pointed a fry at him. "See how easy that was?"

"What?"

Sabrina huffed and a lock of her hair fluttered. "Nevermind."

"Sabrina, what?"

Sabrina took a monster bite of her burger and pretended to melt. Around her chipmunk cheeks she said, "Mmmm... so good."

"Sabrina."

"Seriously, Kyle, have you tried your burger?"

Kyle sighed. Exhausted from a long day onsite, his stomach was grousing, feed me, feed me, feed me, just from the smell alone. He took a bite. Flavor exploded upon his tongue. He sagged in surprised satisfaction. The burger was that good. Perhaps Sabrina hadn't exaggerated when she'd melted.

"So," Sabrina said, trying to speak and eat at the same time, "I've got to know. Who's your engineer hero?"

"My engineer hero?"

"Yeah, the engineer that's done something so cool you want to do it too."

Kyle pondered the question. He'd never thought about that before. There were big name engineers, like Washington Roebling, who designed to Brooklyn Bridge but there were others, who did less glamorous things that were still important. So much of what he did was about concrete and earth, so perhaps--"How about Ben Gerwick."

"Super strong concrete, really?"

"Yeah, really, you don't have to do something flashy to be important. I'm not sure about your cheer team but I know us in the marching band appreciated the street sweeper that followed along behind the horses in the Rhododendron Parade." It wasn't their hometown but their school had regularly participated in the parade that took place in coastal Florence, Oregon during their high school years. "I know we thought he was important. You, who's yours?"

By way of answer Sabrina tapped on her phone with one hand while using her other to aid in the piranha like consumption of her burger. It was odd watching those glossy, pink lips chow down like a baby dinosaur. She held up her phone for Kyle to see. A woman in a blue NASA FRC jumpsuit was pictured there. Kyle squinted at the text.

"That's cool, is she Charles Koch's daughter?"

Sabrina retracted her phone and rolled her eyes. She washed a monster bite down with some Redd's Raspberry Ale she'd ordered. "God, no. Why is that everyone's first question?"

"He was, is, a mechanical engineer. Isn't he?"

"Sure, maybe. What does that have to do with it?

"And he's worth like a gazillion dollars."

"So? If someone shows you a picture of Neil Armstrong, is your first question, who was his mother?"

Good point. Who was Armstrong's mother? Kyle stopped himself. The answer wasn't relevant to their discussion. Was it? "Bee, what would your first question be?"

Sabrina became animated. "Like, did she walk on the moon?"

"Did she?"

Sabrina's expression fell. "I don't know," she whined. "I can't figure it out. There's all these launch dates, launch date cancellations, different missions, speculation and internet babble that never goes away... so yeah, I don't know. I kinda want to."

"You'd think it'd be bigger news."

"I know, right?"

A shadow fell over the table. A deep, base rumble sounded above them.

"Hey boss." Boulders of muscle, the mountain of man that'd cost Sabrina her hardhat, hovered at the end of the table. "Mind if I--"

He didn't need to finish. Sabrina had scooched into the corner of her side of the booth, drawing her burger with her. The Persian Hercules dropped into the seat beside her and took up all the remaining space. A strain gage tension corded the muscles in Kyle's neck.

"Hi, Cole." Sabrina's voice was bright. She craned her neck over her shoulder so as to smile at him. Kyle's fist flexed under the table.

"Hey." Cole flagged down Michelle and ordered a stout. His gaze dropped to Sabrina's upturned phone. In a base rumble that rattled Kyle's bones, Cole said, "Christina Koch, eh?" His brow furrowed. "Wonder if she's walked on the moon?" Sabrina beamed at Cole and then turned to Kyle.

"See?" She stuck out her tongue.

***

An hour later, Kyle sagged in unadulterated bliss. Hot, knot relieving water sluiced over Kyle's muscles. Heat worked its way into his bones and washed away the tension of his fourteen hour work day. Too bad it couldn't wash away dinner with Sabrina and Cole.

Even though he stood right next to the shower nozzle, the water hit him just above the shoulders. It'd been more than a decade since he'd found a showerhead placed high enough he didn't have to duck in order to rinse his hair. He did so now wondering if he could scrub away the memory of Sabrina's flat, emotionless voice as she revealed her stripper past.

Chaos made soup of his feelings. He was honored that she'd trusted him, horrified at her revelation and at the need that'd driven her there. Guilt that he had judged her, was still judging her. Green with envy towards a sea of faceless men who'd watched her dance. Disappointed he hadn't been one of them.

Kyle bit back an agonized groan. He'd never been to a strip club but now he was tempted to visit Cowgirls. Perhaps putting a real image, a real memory, in his head would erase the too real imaginings his mind was conjuring of his roommate wrapped about a brass pole in nothing but stripper floss and electrical tape pasties. Green tape, for ground wire, because her wanted to ground his mouth on the nipples they hid. Mental Power Point images, bulleted with her strip club rules, cycling before his mind's eye, had him aching, tight and diamond bit hard.

Thank God the showers had private stalls. Kyle wrapped a fist about himself. He had to do something about this hot, strain gage tension. If he didn't, and they woke up tomorrow in the same embrace they had this morning, he was pretty sure he'd come in his boxers from just pressing into her backside. Just the thought of pressing up against her shapely ass brought him right to the edge.

Bee! his mind roared. Two pumps and her name nearly made it past his lips, but while the shower was shielded from prying eyes, sound would carry to the neighboring stalls. He'd live happier if the entire locker-room didn't know that he was jacking off to his roommate and boss. His whole body quaked with the release inspired by the woman that'd haunted his dreams since before either one of them had been teens.

In its wake, guilt nibbled on his satiated emotion. After a final rinse, Kyle slammed off the shower, hammering the pipes. Outside the shower was a partitioned space half the size of a department store changing room. He could see over the six foot something walls, but not many men could. As tall as he was, it was a tight fit to wrestle into his jeans. He bumped his head on the far wall, when he sat to tie his shoes. Flip flops would've been easier but he'd not expected the communal showers when packing for the trip. He waited to take care of his hair and hygiene at the sink because he knew, despite there being fifteen showers, men were waiting.

Kyle stepped out of the changing room and drew up short.

Sabrina flicked an eye up from her sparkly phone. Her gaze traversed his length. Her eyes went glassy and the fingers of her free hand rose to her collar bone. He couldn't imagine what she saw in jeans, dripping hair, damp black tee shirt but whatever relief his shower ministrations had provided him, was erased at the sight of her tongue tracing over her kiss me lips.

The guy leading her in line, pushed past Kyle.

"What are you doing in here?" Kyle's words came out like a bark and far sharper than he'd intended.

The glassy heat in Sabrina's eyes evaporated. "Apparently the women's showers have never been used. The water in the pipes is... gross. Linda promised she'd have it taken care of by tomorrow evening but I feel icky. I was hoping you could guard my stall--"

Kyle strode right up into her personal space. Close enough she had to crane her neck to look at him. "This is the men's shower, Sabrina," he hissed. Her name lent itself to that particular expression.

"Weren't you paying attention to me, dumbass. There are no women's showers right now. " Sabrina made no attempt to keep her voice down. "Just showers." She waved her hand, taking in the whole room. "I'm sure nobody here minds."

Every person in the room, every last one of them male, tuned their attention on Sabrina. One member of their rapt audience had toothpaste dripping off his chin.

It felt like there was a green goblin with razor claws digging out from the inside of Kyle's chest. Between those in line for showers and those at the sinks, one in three men weren't wearing a shirt. One of those at a sink was in nothing but a towel. Some dude, Cole by the mountain of muscle Kyle glimpsed from the corner of his eye, stepped out of a changing room in not even that. Kyle angled himself to block Sabrina's view but she heard the banging of the stall door. She snaked a look around his shoulders, saw the free shower and pushed past him. Fortunately, for the sanity Kyle was holding onto by a spider silk thread, Cole had wrapped a sorely inadequate towel about his waist.

She'd stalked half way to the empty change room before he thought to give chase. Kyle slammed the flat of his hand into the door a moment before it slammed in his face and knocked it back open. "Bee, you can't."

"Great!" Sabrina snapped. "Now you're telling me what I can and cannot do. Every woman's wet dream." She stripped off her neon pink, unicorn tee. Kyle felt like his eyes might pop out of his head. She wasn't wearing a bra. "That's just what I need, Kyle, some dick wielder to do my thinking for me!" She kicked off her flip flops and wiggled out of a pair of bootie shorts that looked a size too small. She tried to slam the stall door but it bounced off of Kyle once more, who, robbed of rational thought while staring at a fuck-me thong, stood in the entry.

She shoved Kyle, hard. He staggered back a step. But rather than slamming the door, Sabrina followed him out of the stall nearly naked. She finger punched his sternum hard enough to force a cough from Kyle.

"See all those men, Kyle?" Sabrina was yelling. "They're not telling me what to do or how to behave. So what if they look? We're all human. They're not shaming me for what my body has or doesn't have!" Tears sprang to her eyes. "I was planning to ask you to be my bouncer, you know, so no one does anything except look, but I think I'll ask Cole instead!" She gazed past Kyle's shoulder and apparently saw the affirmation she needed. She stepped backward into the change room. She showed him the pink nail attached to her middle finger and slammed the door.

Kyle's forehead bounced off the door panel when he slumped against it. He didn't hear the laughter or the jokes. He didn't hear anything until a hand the size of a grizzly bear's paw clamped on his shoulder.

Kyle turned to find Cole, in jeans and white tee, now.

"Dude"

"What?" Kyle held his voice to a sharp bark. He wanted to shout.

Cole looked him up and down. He pointed over Kyle's shoulder and then let his hand drop. "I know the score. That patsy in Seattle was a convenient diversion for her, a holding pattern while she waited for something way better. If I'm not wrong, and I'm not, that something was you." A beat pulsed for emphasis. "But if you don't figure out how to stop pushing her buttons, I'm going to tap that. And, dude, she'll thank me."

Whatever hope Cole's words inspired in Kyle was buried under an avalanche of self-loathing. "Sabrina hates me."

"You're not wrong."

Princess

Kyle

Despite Cole, Kyle'd not been able to leave while Sabrina showered. When she exited the stall, clothed, she'd expressed irritation and shooed him away. He'd left but hovered outside until she and Cole exited the locker room. He'd retreated before she could say anything. He'd nearly turned around when she'd started laughing at some joke Cole had shared.

Now, Kyle lay as close to his edge of the bed as he could without falling off. Hands crossed behind his head, he stared up at the too low ceiling. Below, the door opened, closed and locked. There was a long pause where all that could be heard was the cycle of his own breath.

It felt like a millennium had passed before Sabrina slowly climbed the ladder to their bedroom loft. Not a word was said. She stashed her incidentals while Kyle pretended to be asleep.

Kyle grunted when Sabrina crawled over him to her side of the bed. He'd considered giving her the more convenient side of the bed, but some need to be between Sabrina and potential danger had forced him to take the side closer to the ladder.

And she hadn't complained about his misogynistic impulses, for once.

But when she reached her side of the bed, she did something unexpected. She stripped off her shorts and tee.

"What are you doing?" Even though he could only see her shadow in the darkened loft, Kyle wanted to divert his gaze, but couldn't. He'd gotten a good look at her earlier and his imagination was filling in details he couldn't actually see. He hardened faster than Quikrete.

"Going to bed," she said and slipped under the sheet in nothing but a pair of cotton panties.

A Darth Vader grip constricted Kyle's throat. "But--"

Sabrina's chocolate eyes turned so cold they could've chilled a superconductor. "I hate waking with a damp collar or sweat under my boobs. Deal!"

"Sabrina I'm going to have to go--"

"Fine! But don't complain to me when you get back problems. I'm not playing princess for you."

Kyle froze half way out of the bed. "Princess?"

"Yes, princess! That way some men look at me like they can't see me as anything but innocent, delicate and in need of protection. The way you did tonight. I'm a person, a woman! Look at me like I'm a woman, not a toy, not a doll, not a child, a woman! Don't perv, because, gross, but it's okay to notice, it's okay to look. It's not okay to look and pretend you're not looking because my body is not something to be ashamed of!"

"I..."

"Arrg!" Sabrina growl-screamed. "Stay! Go! I don't want to know. I just want to go to sleep!"

Kyle couldn't make himself leave after her declaration. When he woke in the morning his member was harder than extruded 316S steel. He had a warm mound of peaked flesh cradled in his right hand. He tried to extricate himself but sleepy Sabrina hugged the arm looped over her chest like she was afraid he might rob her of a National Treasure.

And, shit, he was damp around the collar.

Three-Piece

Sabrina

Sabrina dropped her elbows on either side of her keyboard and rubbed her temples. It was Saturday, the second since they'd arrived, and she was exhausted. Kyle was a godsend in the field and office. He was a nightmare when they were off duty. She couldn't figure him, or herself, out.

She'd been working sixteen hours a day, most days, just to avoid down time with Kyle. She'd taken to eating alone or, occasionally, with Cole when their schedules lined up. Last Sunday, their supposed day off, she'd checked on the jobsite twice, just to avoid Kyle in their joke of a cabin. The rest the day she'd buried her nose in an Elle Kennedy she'd borrowed from Linda.

That'd been a mistake. Monday morning, Sabrina had awaken breast to chest with Kyle, one leg hitched over his hip and pulled so close she might've been trying to grind on him in her sleep. Fortunately, on Tuesday they'd gone back to their back-to-chest, arm hug, boob grope.

Until this morning. This morning her eyes had popped open to find his now green, now brown, gaze studying her. She had definitely been wet. She had definitely been grinding. Sabrina even remembered the dream. There'd been zero mystery as to whom her dream lover had been. She'd been staring at him when her eyes opened.

And he was right over there on the phone with one of the hundred million vendors they'd been plying for parts. Sabrina had already bought every significant length of three phase armored cable, in all standard sizes, available on the continent. Both Okonite and Southwire were spooling up their production in response to their demand. She had more than fifty motors being pulled for replacement or rewind. Purchase orders were already in excess of forty million. Notes overflowed the whiteboard, onto a newly installed second whiteboard and onto the office window. Sabrina had a Gantt chart more than thirty pages long.

And she was adding more. Six months might've been optimistic. Even with Martin adding electricians every day, Sabrina couldn't see them done earlier than the five month mark and at the current rate of discovery, the needs-repaired list was certain to get longer before it got shorter.

Add to all that, she was cramping. Whoohoo, fun times. Which, Sabrina checked her calendar, farts, probably meant a couple more days of not fun. She checked her purse to make sure she had what she needed because while she understood she didn't "technically" get her period on the pill, her body sure acted like it did.

As she did so, Three-Piece stepped into the office without knocking. The door was open, but--really? Had he never heard of knocking?

She'd learned Three-Piece's name was something like Jacob or Johnson or Jordan. She'd also learned the forty something man was the plant manager, but she'd have bet her whole white-female engineer salary he'd started life as an accountant. Roly-Poly Ted pushed into the too small space behind him and some stocky man with thinning blonde hair hovered in the door.

"Ms. DeLane."

Sabrina put her purse aside hoping Jacob/Johnson/Jordan hadn't noted what she'd been digging out of the bottom.

"Uh--yes?" She couldn't exactly call him Three-Piece.

"I'd like to introduce, Mr. Wurkman."

Wurkman? Sabrina's eyes jerked to the blonde hovering in the doorway. It was Carl. Farts! Farts! Fuck! Carl pushed past Roly-Poly and granted her a weak smile.

"Hey, Girly Girl."

Sabrina bristled.

Three-Piece said, "We've asked Mr. Wurkman to consult on your schedule, see if there are some opportunities to trim you might've missed."

Sabrina wanted to plant her face in her palms. How could this get any worse? Not only was she to submit her plan for the dick stamp of approval, but it had to be stamped by a dick that'd already stamped her--in a more literal way. He didn't even have a PE, for dick's sake.

Behind her, Sabrina "felt" Kyle shift. They sat back-to-back, him facing the window, her facing the door. She would have preferred looking outside, but hers was the power position. Kyle hadn't questioned her choice.

"Gordon," Kyle said.

Gordon, farts, she'd been like, so close.

"Sabrina is doing all she can to keep the--"

Sabrina pushed her chair back, hard, as she stood up. The resulting bang of her chair into his shut Kyle up. She could, she would, fight her own battles.

"Carl, what a pleasure it is to see you here," she said, Stevia sweet--not. Gee, she hoped he could get the hint and remain professional. She did not need any professions of undying love in front of Three-Piece. Or Kyle. Especially not Kyle. She wasn't sure why she believed that to be important, but she did. "You may call me Sabrina," she said, because she didn't really want him calling her Girly Girl anymore.

Sabrina remained standing. She did not offer Carl or Ted a guest chair. She knew from experience Gordon wouldn't take one.

"Please provide Carl with a copy of your schedule and your notes," Gordon said.

Sabrina folded her arms across her chest in imitation of Three-Piece. She didn't want to look defiant, but there was no way she wanted to appear submissive. To make her posture less hostile, she pitched up against the wall. "Of course, I can easily provide the schedule. Has your email changed, Carl?" Sabrina said as evenly as she was able. She tried for just the right amount of inflection to be warm but not inviting. "But as you can see, our notes are all over the wall, one-lines and note books. Much of what he'll need to reconstruct the schedule is in the purchasing system. Or, sometimes, just in our heads."

"Purchase orders can be printed. Notes copied. You can write down what's in your head," Roly-Poly said it like he didn't expect there to be anything in her head, except, like, girl brains, which, were way better than dick brains, but in Roly-Poly's world girl brains probably wouldn't count as brains at all.

She opened her mouth.

"Sabrina doesn't have time." Kyle's tone was blunt, growly.

Sabrina turned to Kyle. Disbelief pinballed about her skull. He'd pretty much said exactly what she had been about to say. She felt like things were getting away from her. They were a team, but really? Didn't he trust her to stand up for herself? Hadn't she stood up for herself with Brian? She didn't need dick referenced. Except, she admitted, when she did. But this hadn't been one of those times, yet.

Kyle either ignored or didn't see her frown. How was it that the lava in her blood hadn't burnt its way to the surface was beyond her.

Kyle said, "He's welcome to take photos of our walls." His voice wasn't welcoming at all.

Ted waddled a step forward. "Carl's only got a few weeks--"

Thank God.

"--certainly Sabrina can take some time out from applying her makeup to make him copies."

Sabrina's eyes snapped to Carl. Had she seen his lips twitch? He looked amused. She'd been insulted and the man that'd stamped her passport once a month for two years was amused? Ex or not, not funny.

"Don't you have a job to do?" Kyle growled at Ted. Sabrina's attention jerked back to Kyle. She tugged at his sleeve, but he steamed on--an unstoppable freight train. He was not yelling, but the menace in his voice was palpable. "Or did Brian forget to mention to us that you're here to monitor Sabrina's progress? She's juggling a million things. Way more than you, I or anyone else, Ted! Were you not here to do an evaluation, for her benefit and then get the hell out of Dodge?"

Ted sputtered. His gaze flicked to Sabrina and back to Kyle. Standing where she was, Sabrina couldn't see Kyle's expression but by the look on Ted's visage it was likely as flexible as the basalt cliff on Skinner's Butte in their hometown. Three-Piece, arms crossed, seemed content to watch the byplay from the corner. His contemplation made Sabrina uncomfortable. She wondered how many points all this fracas had cost her. She wondered how many points she had begun with.

"I can make copies," Carl said with a placating tone. Despite their shit show her last night in Seattle, Carl seemed unbalance by her resistance--or perhaps it was Kyle. "Photograph the walls."

Kyle started to speak. Sabrina interrupted him. It was only polite. Men interrupted her all the time. "You're welcome to copy them." She pointed to piles of one-lines, three-lines and schematics she'd stacked upon a bookshelf. "I will need the originals back. Please return them and don't shuffle them. We spent a lot of time organizing them in a manner that makes sense."

Carl's gaze swept over the schematics. There were probably more than a thousand prints in all. It'd take a long while to copy them with BO's finicky Xerox. He widened his stance but looked nervous, like he was trying to assert his dick while still keeping her favor. "You'll have to print the purchase orders. I don't have access."

"Perhaps one of the purchasing agents can help you. I've got a different job to do."

Three-Piece finally reacted. "Come on Carl, I'll get one of the girls to print the PO's for you."

***

Sabrina counted her breaths to ten. When that didn't help, she counted to twenty and then fifty before she stepped around her desk to close the door in the men's wake. Although she still felt like she had enriched uranium for blood, the breathing had helped calm her--a little. What would Christina Koch say? A beat pulsed. Forget Christina Koch, what would Sabrina DeLane say? Taking care to not simply explode, she slowly rounded on Kyle. He caught the rage in her posture and his gaze jerked to her face, startled.

"What! Was! That?"

"I--uh--" He had the nerve to look confused. "--what was what?"

"That!" Sabrina hooked a thumb over her shoulder. "That whole speaking for me thing!"

"I was trying to help, Sabrina." There was an edge to his voice. "We're a team, right?"

She opened her mouth to scream something about mansplaining and dick referencing and trusting her to do her job. She snapped it closed again and put her face in her hands. She cycled a breath. "Okay, thank you for trying to help." She wanted to be thankful but knew she didn't sound very grateful. She looked up at him, trying to smile and actually managed to paint some sort of pained almost smile on her lips. "I know you are here to help but it just feels like everyone is against me. I mean, if I could just do my job without dealing with people..." She chuckled at herself, glad she could find some humor in this. The job was dealing with people. Without people, there was zero need for the job. She let the fire bleed from her veins.

"Kyle, I'm sorry." Her gaze dropped to her toes. "I guess I'm just used to you being the enemy. I--thank you for being on my side." She tried to shut herself up, but she couldn't help it, the words in her head popped out of her mouth. "This time."

The words came out as a whisper but Kyle face darkened suggesting he heard them anyway. He turned his back on her and dropped into his seat. Sabrina could see the tension tugging at his neck and shoulders.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. Sorry." How had this all turned back around on her?

The taut line of his posture eased. "Yes you did." A hint of self-conscious mirth painted his tone. Sabrina felt weak kneed with relief. "For the record, I've always wanted to be on your side." Frustration entered his voice. "I just don't know how."

The hamster squeaked. Sabrina, I've never hated you.

Work it Out

Sabrina

Warmth pressed into Sabrina from behind locking her in that fuzzy, dreamy space at the edge of slumber. The muscled arm looped over her chest, twisted, loosening her grip. Fingers released her boob and Kyle tried to pull away. She tightened her hug upon his arm.

"Sabrina?"

"Hmmm"

"Call of nature."

Fine she groused into that fuzzy, dreamy space in her head. She released Kyle's arm. He rolled from the bed while she snuggled into her pillow. Outside the window, the sky had taken on the green of pre-dawn. She did not want to get up. It was Sunday. She descended back into the void.

Sabrina's own scream shredded her sleep. She jolted up, the sheet clutched to her chest. Sabrina's gaze darted about the room. Sunlight filtered through the window. Kyle was absent but the smell of something woodsy still lingered upon the sheets. The night before, he'd come to bed with her, the iron wall of their frustration still between them.

The jackhammering of Sabrina's heart, slowed. Her throat felt raw. She remembered Kyle leaving. That must've been hours ago.

She huffed another sniff of Kyle's woodsy cologne. The fireball inferno in her dream space flickered and went out. The dread that she'd somehow caused it, released its grip. The hole that Kyle's lifeless eyes had drilled in her heart would not fill.

Sabrina slipped from bed. She donned some cut-offs and a loose top with a flower print.

"Kyle?" she called down the ladder.

No answer.

She eased herself from the loft. He was gone. It was after ten.

Sabrina fished her phone from her purse on the counter, started a text and deleted it because if The Zit didn't want to hang with her, she didn't want to hang with him. She texted Cole. "What do you do on your day off?"

She'd made herself some toast with Nutella. Sin, that was how Sabrina had entered Cole into her phone, like the Babylonian god he was, responded. "Gym"

Of course. Sabrina rolled her eyes, she should've guessed, and munched on her championship breakfast. The mountain named Cole could pack seven sticks of two inch rigid conduit at once, by himself, without breaking a sweat. She'd seen him--and might've melted had Kyle not been standing right beside her. Something about The Zit was more cock blocking than even Dad. Not even the most potent of panty melters affected Sabrina when she was in Kyle's presence. It wouldn't have been so annoying if Kyle didn't regularly make her self-combust. In that way Kyle was decidedly unlike Dad.

Sabrina looked about their cabin. She could mope about and read one of Linda's books, go to work, drink before noon, get a Cowgirls' lap dance she wasn't interested in or go to the gym.

Winner.

"Join me?" Because company might distract her from the static frazzle charging her nerves every time she thought of Kyle and those dead eyes from her dream. Exercise might relieve the discomfort in her core.

"Already there, Whatever."

Sabrina finished her toast, scrambled up to the loft and changed into workout shorts and a pink crop top. On the likelihood there was a shower, she packed a lightweight backpack with a change of clothes, plotted the gym on her phone and set off from the cabin's door at a warmup jog.

On her way to the gym, she dodged a dust control truck spraying foul smelling oil on the gravel 'main street,' tumble weeds, beer bottle empties and like a gazillion bored men. It wasn't noon yet and the line outside of Cowgirls was already forming. She passed a rag tag theater playing something so violent she could hear the special affect booms from the street. She arrived at the gym having received only a few hundred cat calls. Given the testosterone levels in Cracker, she was surprised she hadn't received more.

Man-Up lived up to its name. Fifty benches. Racks of free weights. Medicine balls. Five treadmills. Hard planes and muscle. Lots and lots of muscle. Not a vagina in sight.

Despite the entire mountain range of lick-me muscle, Sin--er--Cole, was easy to spot. Mt. Rainier dominated the Northern Cascades in the same sort of way. She signed the wavers, paid her dues and wove her way through the press of men. Cole had a bench. When she approached, he waved off a spotter so big she looked like a toy beside his image in the mirror.

"Hey, Whatever."

Sabrina rolled her eyes. She waved her hand at the pile of free weights. "What's the plan, Coach?"

"First you stretch."

"I jogged here."

"So you can skip your warmup. Now stretch."

She stuck out her tongue but obliged him by doing her child pose, toe touches, lunges and downward dog under Cole's watchful gaze. She wiggled her butt at him, because she could. His eyes flashed but he did not otherwise respond. When she'd completed her normal repertoire, he added a hip twist and a thing that was essentially a face plant while doing the splits. Thank God she'd not entirely abandoned her cheerleader fitness routines in the past decade. He then proceeded to push her for the next two hours until her core contained the only muscles in her body that weren't threatening to cramp. She'd not known there were so many ways to abuse one's body with nothing but free weights, a matt and a bench.

Sarbrina's arms trembled as she pushed through her last rep. "No more."

Core relieved her of the bar. Without discernable effort, he placed it back on the rack. Her arms flopped and she felt like she might melt into a stinky saltwater puddle right on the bench.

"Come on." Cole extended a hand and pulled her up. Sabrina felt a bit like a rubber band trying to stand on edge. She clutched Cole's arm in order to stay upright.

He wiped down the bench.

"Okay, let's cool down."

"I can't move."

Cole chuckled. His low tone vibrated some rather sensitive places. "Just a few laps." She staggered beside him as he led her towards an indoor track.

She shot him an incredulous look. "You want me to run?"

"I'll let you walk, this time."

"I don't think I can."

"Yes you can." His hand cracked across the entire left globe of her ass. She leapt forward to escape the sting. "Hey, look at that. You can walk."

Sabrina showed Cole the manicure of her middle nail.

"Let's go, Whatever." He set off at a brisk pace. She had to hustle to keep up. After a lap, Sabrina had to admit, she no longer felt like throwing up.

"I'd rather you called me, Sabrina--or Bee," she said when she finally caught up.

"Whatever." Cole pulled a wink that actually made something flutter behind her sternum.

"Come on Cole, purdy please." She fluttered her lashes, because two could flirt.

Cole arched a brow at her. "All you had to do was ask, Bee."

Sabrina huffed so hard it fluttered the tresses sweat slicked against the side of her face. "So, what now?" she asked after another lap.

"Protein." He pinched her bicep between thumb and forefinger. "Got to feed those cheerleader muscles."

"What's wrong with cheerleader muscles?"

"Nothing's wrong with cheerleader muscles. Between cheerleader muscles and linebacker muscles, I'll stare at the cheerleader muscles every time."

Sabrina punched him in the shoulder. He didn't even blink.

"How'd you know I was a cheerleader, in high school, I mean."

"I didn't. But you're the type." It was the first time Cole had said something that made Sabrina feel sour inside.

"Cheerleader is not a type."

A beat cycled while Cole appeared to ponder her words--and tone. "You are correct, Sabrina. Cheerleader is not a type. My bad."

"Thank you."

"So can I invite you out for a Two Buttes' Monster Burger for protein intake or did I blow it?"

Sabrina crooked a lopsided smile at Cole. "You didn't blow it." She pulled at the sports bra plastered to her skin. "But ew."

Cole pointed. "Shower's there. See you in thirty." He checked the time on his Fitbit. "Unless you want to join me in the sauna."

"There's a sauna?" Everyone on the track turned to look at her.

Sauna

Kyle

So much sweat spilled off of Kyle he was going to have to down a twenty ounce bottle of Aquafina in order to rehydrate. He'd been pouring water on the rocks even though his twenty minutes were almost up. While the timer on the sauna ticked down the last minute of his time, he scrubbed a hand through his damp hair and planted his face in his hands.

How on Earth had he thought he and Sabrina could work together? He'd hoped the wall between them would finally come down, but when they weren't fighting, they were giving each other the cold shoulder. They'd rage at each other and then Sabrina would climb into bed one stich of clothing shy of naked. He'd wake wanting, needing, to plow her until she screamed his name. So much worse for his sanity, yesterday morning, when he'd awaken to her grinding on his leg, Kyle thought she might've let him.

And then they'd fought all day.

So he'd come to Man-Up, while Sabrina got her needed sleep, with the idea of sweating her out his brain. He'd lifted weights until his arms quaked. He'd run sprints, he hated sprints, around the track. He'd played cutthroat racquetball for the past two hours. He'd snagged twenty minutes in one of the pay per use saunas when his racquetball partners bailed on their reservation.

The timer dinged. Kyle rose from the sauna's bench, threw his towel over his shoulder and tugged up the waistline of his shorts on the chance he'd somehow shrunk in the heat. He didn't have Sabrina's body confidence and even alone, in a private sauna, he'd not been comfortable stripping.

Honestly, Sabrina's body confidence made his skin itch. It wasn't that he wanted her shamed, but that stunt she'd pulled in the showers had turned his stomach. He didn't want men looking at her like she was perfectly grilled top sirloin with a side of sex.

Except, sometimes, that was exactly how he looked at Sabrina. He wanted to rip the eyes out of every man in that locker room--every man at The Tool Box, just to be safe. She belonged in no one's wank bank but his. Her casual willingness to show men skin, made him realize all those times he'd thought he'd managed to sneak a peek just for himself, had meant nothing. She'd shown more to men that'd waved a handful of bills in her face.

And he shouldn't judge her. He didn't want to judge her. Her body, her business. Even had he been with her, he had no right to tell her what to do. No right to tell her how to live, how to experience, how to feel. But erasing a lifetime of social programming was a difficult task.

Kyle stepped out in the corridor that ran between the locker rooms and sauna. Was it Sabrina on the brain or was that really her musical laugh floating on the air. Two doors up the hall, a swarthy mountain of muscle, back to him, walled off Kyle's view. Beyond him, Kyle glimpsed curves, a flash of Northwestern rain weather skin and luxurious honey blond tresses.

The vision, covered in nothing but a towel, paused on the threshold. She put a hand on the mountain of muscle. "Thanks, Cole," Sabrina said, and stepped inside.

Cole followed and latched the door behind them.

Grounding

Sabrina

It was hotter than a volcano in Hades on the worksite. Fire rated clothing, FRC, did not breathe. Sweat was gathering everywhere that Sabrina would've liked to have not been sweaty. She pried open the top of her button down and used its collar as a fan to pump air down her shirt. Around her, men, probably less comfortable than she, layered in FRC and Tyvek coveralls stripped insulation from damaged pipe. Pipe and Tyvek were coated in layers of soot and waxy cracker feed oil.

Sabrina would have preferred to stay outside the mess. But it was better than being back in the office. Carl was trying to soak up her every minute, on and off the job. She'd had dinner with him last night, just to stop his badgering. She'd reiterated her stance, they were through. But, once more, Carl didn't seem to be able to hear her. She had returned to The Tool Box ready to swear off men forever.

So when a call had come from Martin asking her opinion on a damaged motor, rather than requesting a texted photo she'd decided to join him at the worksite. Now, the scaffolding that provided access to elevated equipment was blocking access to equipment on the ground. Piles of burnt wire and discarded insulation overflowed 55 gallon drums. Insulation, the sheet metal that had covered it and the metal bands that locked it all in place occasionally fell from on high. None of the insulation was supposed to be asbestos, but some of it was silica and there had been a fire. The pump alley, a breezeway under the tangled mess of pipe that made up the refinery provided access to more than thirty pumps, was completely overrun.

Deciding to avoid the heart of the action, Sabrina ducked and wove through the maze of pipe surrounding it. Her boot snagged on something. She staggered a step and caught herself against a pipe.

Looking down Sabrina saw a bare copper wire as thick as the braid she'd put in her hair stubbed out of the concrete equipment pad. It was broken off and frayed a few inches above grade. It had once served as the static ground wire for a nearby vessel. It was outside the boundaries of the fire but was not the first ground wire Sabrina had seen broken off. Neglect and equipment vibration had probably cut through it. Underneath this much steel, lightning was seldom a problem, but pipe static could knock a person on her butt. Worse, it could provide an ignition source. The vessel was small enough that IEEE and ASCE would only require one ground, but in the current condition, it had none. Sabrina could do nothing outside the damaged, rebuild zone but given the current state of neglect, she decided she might require that two grounds, minimum, be installed on vessels and structures where she did have authority. She made note in her Moleskin black book.

People would complain. It would take money, time and research. Kyle might not even side with her. Grounding was as much civil as electrical. He'd have an opinion. He'd also be the person that had to do most the research. It'd not be a small task, but people would be safer, at least until both grounds wore off.

Not that Kyle had been siding with her since last week. Something had shifted. He claimed it wasn't the disagreement on Saturday but if it wasn't that, she didn't know what it was. They still woke up in the center of the bed, but rather than arm hug boob grope they were now spine to spine, with a crack of energy between them that set Sabrina's teeth on edge. It made her want to spit fire. Nor was Sabrina the only one affected, The Zit had become a colossal grump. At least her sex dreams had stopped.

Sabrina spotted her crew, forced her dark mood into a corner for an extended time out, climbed over a pipe and squirmed between a column and scaffolding brace. In a half squat hunch she scurried under the scaffolding's deck. She joined Cole and Martin at the pump they'd called her to. The motor was not overly blackened but the two inch seal tight conduit leading to it, and the wire within, had melted. Cole had removed the cover on the motor's peckerhead and the c-phase terminal lead was melted all the way into the motor.

"Was this one on the pump mechanics list to pull?" Sabrina asked. She already suspected the answer. They wouldn't have called her out if it had been. Other than soot, the pump looked to be in good shape.

Martin gave one shake of his head. "No."

Farts. Sabrina removed the hardhat from her head, wiped the sweat from her brow and replaced it. More work. More money. More time. Less allies. "We have to get this out for repairs."

"Agreed," Martin said. "Thought you should see it."

Sabrina snapped a picture of the pump number, name plate, burnt t-lead and told Cole he could button the peckerhead back up. She inspected the five or so feet of melted seal tight.

"What's that?" she asked and pointed to the fitting between the seal tight and ridged conduit. She'd never seen a fitting like it.

Cole glanced over. "That's for an external ground."

"I've never seen one before."

"They're not common," Martin said. "Most people use grounded seal tight. BOs spec requires it though. Does make it easier to determine if the ground is in place or not."

Sabrina jotted a note in her black book. "Huh, that's a good idea."

Cole said, "Not everyone's following that spec, boss."

"What do you mean?" Sabrina said at the same time Martin asked, "Who's not?"

Cole looked between them. "Them P&C techs that got instrumentation."

Martin shook his head. Sabrina said, "Why not?"

"Everything's on short supply. Fittings have been hard to get. Pretty sure that round engineer from Boss's company told them not to bother."

"Roly-Poly?" she said on a shocked crescendo.

Cole guffawed. "Yup, I'd say that's him."

Sabrina pinched the bridge of her nose. "Who's got instrumentation? Which engineer, I mean."

Cole shrugged.

Martin said, "Jeff quit. Old guy. One of BO's own. I suspect he had one foot out the door and this fire was the final motivation he needed to retire. I'm guessing that's why you're here too. Their electrical engineer took one look at this mess and bailed. Gordon was asking yesterday if I knew anyone who could lead instrumentation. I suggested you."

At Martin's words, a warm glow suffused Sabrina's chest. "Okay," she said, carefully. She was swamped but instrumentation was a good fit with what she was already doing. "Why is this the first I'm hearing about it?"

Martin cycled a sigh. "BO wants fast. You're doing quality."

"I can do fast," she said the words slow. Fast would require shortcuts. Usually money could solve the difference but she was scraping the supply barrel dry. Parts she could get fast would not meet spec. Furthermore, there were only so many people she could pack into one space. They'd reached the max. More hands would not help.

Martin cocked a brow.

Cole grunted. "Don't sell your soul, Bee."

"Do you know if they've got anyone in mind?" Maybe she could make an ally. Present a united front.

"Rumor has it they're going to go with that same guy that's been poking into your schedule. Carl, right?" Of course it was the guy that was trying to get back in her panties.

Farts.

Middle Finger

Kyle

Saturday night. He and Sabrina hadn't spoken more than the bare minimum since the previous Sunday. He was angry. She was hurt. It was his fault, because he hadn't told her why. It wasn't his business who she hung in the sauna with, but--fuck! He hadn't felt like this since she'd dated that line-backer in college. Sabrina had a type. Cole fit. He didn't. He was too tall, too thin. His streamlined figure was that of a runner, not Mr. Universe.

The plywood creaked, as Sabrina moved in the loft above him. She was changing. She'd turned half the damn thing into walk-in closet. He'd never seen so many clothes outside a department store. He lifted his face right as she swung down onto the ladder. The hem of her sundress, all pink print and flowers, caught in his hair and floated up around his face. Sabrina's perfectly formed ass was no more than three inches from his nose. The gap between her thighs, covered by panties so small they might as well have not been there, had him instantly tight.

Kyle took a hasty step back. "Damn it, Sabrina. Warn me before you come down. You almost trampled me."

"Sure, next time I'll kick you in the head. That should be warning enough." Sabrina hopped off the bottom rung of the ladder and her sundress floated a hair too high. The buttons of Kyle fly bit into his flesh.

"Bee, I was cooking." The microwave dinged that it was done with his frozen burritos. The ladder was right in front of the microwave but he hadn't needed to be standing there.

Sabrina crossed her arms under her breasts. "God, do you have PMS? Please tell me you have PMS, because then I might be able to excuse your shit."

The pressure in Kyle's molars grew so great his fillings should've turned to diamond. When he didn't answer, Sabrina huffed a lock of hair out of her face, grabbed her purse and stomped over to the loveseat. She proceeded to turn the coffee table into a pedicure station.

Kyle fished his burritos from the microwave. He marched over to the lazy-boy and threw himself in it. He twisted to face her but she shifted on the loveseat so that he was facing her back.

"You're just going to ruin those with all the dust," he said, pointing at the sparkly T-strap sandals she'd kicked off.

"Thank you for mansplaning. I wasn't planning on going for a stroll."

"Where are you going?"

"How's that your business?"

Kyle threw up his hands. "Gee, Bee, I'm just trying to make conversation." If he hadn't been seated, nor in a room that would've made the cockpit of an F-35 look spacious, he'd have stomped off.

Sabrina rounded upon him, the heat of gigawatt lasers in her eyes. "No. You. Weren't! You were trying to pry about my date!"

Date.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"And for your information, it's with Cole!" She whipped back around and hunched over her toes. Her shoulders shook.

Kyle feared she might be crying. When she lifted a hand to her face, he knew she was crying. He needed to stop talking. He needed to not say what was roaring up in his mind. But he couldn't stop it. He hurt. "Figures"

Sabrina hiccupped. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I should've guessed you'd go back for seconds."

"What?" The heat was returning to her voice. "I've never been on a date with Cole."

"What did you do, Sabrina, fuck him in the sauna? I thought good girls waited for the third date." Kyle couldn't keep the acid from his voice.

Sabrina flew out of her seat. The pitch came in so fast Justin Verlander would've been jealous. The open nail polish splashed pink across his shirt. It drilled his sternum so hard the three dram bottle knocked the breath from him. She caught up her purse, her shoes and raced for the door.

"So that is what this has been about!" She ripped the door open. "For your information, I didn't sleep with Cole. I didn't even take my towel off, you asshole puritan prude!" She rounded on Kyle. "Why are you always so mean to me? I'm trying to make this work! But you--arrrg!" She stepped out the door. "Why don't you jack off tonight? I know you've been wanting to. You'll have time, because--yeah." Sabrina flicked him her middle finger.

Take Me Home

Take Me Home

Sabrina slammed the door, slipped on her sandals and ran down the walk towards The Tool Shed's parking lot. She fished her phone from her purse. Tapped the contact for her Babylonian god, Sin, and texted.

"Pick me up outside by the parking lot."

Dancing dots. "Why? What happened?"

"Kyle."

"Got it."

When no further texts came, she checked her makeup with the selfie camera. She'd gone light and her angry tears hadn't made too much of a mess.

Her phone lit up. "You ready now?"

"Yup" Although typing, the word growled in her head. How did someone send a grumpy text? Finding the right emoji was too much work.

Footsteps sounded on the pavement behind her. Sabrina turned to find Cole striding towards her wearing a black tee that looked to be painted on paired with Levis. A light jacket was thrown over his shoulder. A cocky grin played on his face.

"Hey, Dance Goddess, I'd have brought flowers but this is Cracker. I didn't think sagebrush would cut it."

Sabrina forced a smile. She actually liked the smell of sagebrush, but, yeah, she figured it didn't make the greatest bouquet. "Good call." She tried to make her voice light. She moved to take his arm but he waved her off.

"Let me bring the truck around." Cole pointed to her shoes. "Don't need those pretty toes getting dusty."

"Thank you." She did appreciate the kindness but it was hard to keep the grump from her voice. His words had been too close to Kyle's.

A minute later, Cole pulled up to the end of the concrete walk in a white F150 tool box truck labeled with the MIS logo. Cole leaned over and popped the door open. Sabrina slipped inside, smoothing the skirt of her sundress under her.

"Sorry about the ride," Cole said. He shrugged. "It's what's available."

Sabrina appreciated that he'd clearly made an effort to clean the interior. There were no stained coffee cups, oily personal protective equipment or scattered tools. Still, it was obviously a workman's truck. "I like my pink." She wiggled her toes. "Doesn't mean I can't appreciate a little blue collar." Her effort at humor didn't lighten her mood.

"Good to know."

"Where you taking me?" She was feeling edgy, like there was an itch just under her skin. Kyle had seen her and Cole at the gym A few things about his recent behavior clicked into place. But he'd judged her. She owed him nothing.

Cole put the truck in gear. "There's a road over the mountains to Quaking, Utah. It's a narrow thing and not open in the winter. Quaking's a little over an hour out. A ride, dinner and a club? That okay?"

"God, yes, I could use some down time." A flicker of excitement pulsed in her chest, nudging at the angst in her heart. This had to be providence. Quaking was where Joy had met Cade. She pulled out her phone with the intention of looking up Quaking dance clubs. Joy had gushed about some place called Rippers when she'd been dating Cade, but Joy liked things a little more country than Sabrina.

The truck rattled ominously as it hit a patch of washboard just out of town. Cole turned into the car flattening flow of tanker truck traffic. When the gravel road noise roar dimmed a little, Cole said, "So, bad date etiquette, but there's smoke coming out of your ears. What's up with Kyle?"

"He accused me of mounting you in the sauna."

"I wouldn't've said, 'no.'"

Sabrina rolled her eyes at Cole.

Cole pondered her long enough that a tractor tanker empty blew by on its way to Blackwax Oil Limited's terminal. An expression that suggested he might have been waring with himself, and lost, washed over his face. "Have you considered he might've been jealous?" Cole's voice was gruffer than normal.

"Jealous--pff--no. He judges me and yells at me and tells me what to do. He pulled my hair in grade school for Hershey's sake!"

A crooked smile twitched on Cole's lips. At the same time, posture slumped. "Bee, what do you want? From Kyle, I mean."

"I want to get along with him."

"Is that all?"

Is that all? Of course that was all. But she thought about it. The hair pulling, the cheerleading, valedictorian, class after class, test after test, how he looked at her when he didn't think she'd notice. How some part of her had always, always, known he liked her liked her--for nineteen years. How she could always count on him showing up in her life when no others, save her Dad, had stuck around.

Something hot, painful and aching ballooned in her chest. The part of Sabrina that knew Kyle liked her liked her wondered if that was at its end.

Sabrina shot a sheepish, tight lipped grin at Cole. "Would you please take me home?"

Cowgirls

Kyle

Static sizzled along Kyle's neurons. Lead balls coalesced within his stomach. His foot tapped out a beat that might've been a mile a minute.

The bouncer grinned at him. The man was big enough to be Cole's long lost Scandinavian cousin. "First time?"

All Kyle could manage was a swallow and a nod. Behind him a line of bored men snaked down the block.

"Don't stare. Try not to perv. Follow the rules. Don't touch. And for fuck's sake, if an entertainer is about to climb in your lap, pop a mint. She'll thank you."

Kyle pulled out a roll of Life Savers from his pocket and popped another one. His heart was beating so erratic that he thought his life might need saving. He was praying a night inside would erase all imagines of Sabrina from his mind. He vowed he'd stay as long as he needed too. If she needed him to not be a prude, he'd not be a prude.

The bouncer grunted, "Good man."

Three dudes exited the club on a burst of music and laughter. The bouncer lifted the cord. Kyle, plus two others pushed, inside.

Kyle stopped in his tracks. He'd not known what to expect. A woman on a stage, sure. But there were five stages situated such that all the tables were close to a show. Women with so little on they wouldn't have looked overdressed on a nude beach, twirled on poles. Others danced on tables for groups of rowdy men while still more worked the crowd. Every one of the young twenty somethings looked like a Hugh Heffner wet dream.

And his dick didn't care. None of them were Sabrina.

Intensely conscious of "don't touch," Kyle worked his way through the crowd towards the most isolated corner. A brunette in a Daisy Duke crop top and floss, shot him a wink as he sidled past her stage. The woman was so fresh faced it might not have been legal for her to drink. A Velcro rip sounded over the music and the top came off and finally, finally, something stirred in his groin.

Kyle dropped a Ulysses Grant on the brunette's stage. A surprised smile more captivating than the palmable globes of her ass lit her face. She swiveled so her whole attention was centered on him. Several dudes, those dropping small bills, groaned. The biggest bidder, some guy dropping tens, left for another stage. Guilt, at costing her a customer, pricked Kyle's heart and he dropped another fifty with the intention that he'd flee for the table in the back corner and get the lay of the land before he made an ass of himself.

But he didn't get the chance. The brunette abandoned her pole. She sauntered towards him. The sex-me light in her turquoise eyes coiled a tight band about the base of his shaft. No more than a hand span distant, she dropped to her knees upon the stage, thighs spread. She gave a sexy wiggle and he sprung a semi. She was no Sabrina but of all the women here, she was the first to spark even the slightest interest. He dropped another Grant.

The AI composed EDM song ended and a dude with a broom swept the cash off the stage. The wiggling beauty gifted him a wink and a smile. She gathered her clothes, if that's what they could be called, and slid off the stage. Kyle had to step back to give her enough space. Another entertainer took her place at the pole and Kyle retreated to the table he spied in the dark corner.

When he pivoted to sit, Kyle found the dancing, not quite as enchanting as Sabrina, woman had followed him to his table. She'd put on her crop top and a skirt that was really more just a ruffled belted about her waist. It covered less than many panties.

"Hey there, hot-shot, I'm Kimmy. You're a tall one, aren't you?"

Kyle would've rolled his eyes at her declaration, because he'd not heard that one a million times before, but the young woman, and the "not Sabrina" appeal she radiated, had him off balance. She ran her hand over his shirt like she were smoothing out invisible lapels. Kyle started, was she allowed to touch? His gaze did a panicked dance about the room and the evidence suggested, "yes." She looked up at him with those azure sky eyes and the seam of his pants grew tight.

Guilt ruined it. She was not Sabrina. Which pissed him off. Sabrina had chosen Cole. Why the hell should he feel guilty that another woman could get a rise out of him? The woman's fingers fisted in the panels of his shirt and backed him into his chair. He had just enough time to pop a Life Saver before she climbed his lap, knees wedged between the armrest on either side of his thighs.

Kimmy laughed. It was a beautiful liquid crystal sound. Kyle riveted his fingers to the chair's armrests, because--shit! His hands were trembling.

Kimmy put her fingers on the Velcro clasp of her fuck-me blouse. She did this sexy shimmy that was like a wave traveling from hips to shoulders and pushed her perky orbs towards his face.

Kyle shrank back. Kimmy froze for a tick and then settled the bare globes of her butt on his knees. She reached out and combed his crew cut with her fingers. "First time?"

Kyle swallowed. "That obvious, huh?" His voice came out gruff.

Kimmy smiled. Kyle wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but the smile looked surprisingly real. "Who is she?"

"Who is who?"

"The woman you're trying to forget."

"Who said I'm trying to forget a woman?"

Kimmy bit her lip and Kyle's gaze snapped to it. Her long lashes half shuttered and she bobbed one French manicured nail towards his crotch. Something surged and his balls tried to draw up into his body.

"Because you're not thinking baseball but you've not bust a nut."

Kyle sighed. "Does everyone bust a nut?"

"Give a girl some credit. I know what I'm doing. Wife or girlfriend, hot-shot?"

"Co-worker," Kyle grunted out. When had he become so transparent?

"Ooooh." Kimmy twirled a dark tress about a finger. Her hair smelled like apples--like Sabrina. Was that why he'd gravitated to her? Had he somehow registered her smell when she was up on stage? Her eyes flicked over his shoulder and back to him.

"What's your name hot-shot?"

"Kyle."

"I can help you forget. I can erase co-worker right from that pretty head of yours if you buy us a dance, Kyle."

He was being had. "How much?"

Kimmy nibbled her lip. She smoothed the wrinkles she'd put in his shirt. "For you, five hundred."

Kyle sighed. He wanted to believe. He'd pay ten times that if it meant forgetting Sabrina and her date with Cole. He shifted and dug out his wallet.

A brilliant smile carved Kimmy's lips. She hopped off his lap, grabbed his hand and eagerly led him towards a private booth. Kimmy nodded to the bouncer and then pulled Kyle inside. She pulled the curtain closed and pushed Kyle towards a chair. When he sat and returned his attention to Kimmy, she turned suddenly shy.

Kyle's dick surged, bringing him half out of his seat. Now, at last, he was a believer. Kimmy would erase Sabrina from his mind.

A metal on metal shriek cut through the music. Kimmy jumped, hastily covering herself.

Lap Dance

Sabrina

"Stop!" Sabrina braced her hands against the dashboard. Her gaze remained glued to the man that reflexively ducked under the lintel as he entered Cowgirls. The gravel under tire slide had not come to a full stop before she was out of her seatbelt and throwing open the door. Careless that she was in sandals, she jumped out of the truck and ran around the front the moment the truck's skid came to a stop. She raced across the freshly oiled street.

Cole's pedal tone voice sounded behind her. "Aw fuck."

Aw fuck, indeed. Her hand reached for the club's door.

"Ma'am--" A bruiser of a bouncer so broad he might've been a blonde, fair skinned, relative of Cole stepped between her and the door. "--you need to wait like everyone else." He waved a hand towards the line that was probably a half hour in length.

Farts.

The exit door opened, spilling psychedelic light and EDM upon the street. An entire gaggle of blue collared types, joking and laughing, wandered out. One looked up, surprised to see her, when she tried to dodge through the door in their wake.

A fist closed on her wrist. She was gently, but forcibly drawn back. "Ma'am, line." The bouncer released her the moment the door swung closed.

"I'm late for my shift."

The bouncers gaze swept from Sabrina's toes to her nose, landing on all the places men's eyes were wont to snag. He quirked a grin. "No offense, I'd pay to see that. But no."

"No, seriously? No?"

"What's my name?" He crossed his arms.

Farts.

"Lyle," someone yelled. The patrons waiting in line were getting far too much entertainment at her expense.

"Lyle," she said, giving "The Wall," because, he was a wall of muscle, her most flirtatious smile.

The Wall rolled his eyes. "Nice try, lady."

This was a new experience. Getting past the bouncer while she was dolled up and unaccompanied had never been a problem before. She allowed that she'd never tried to enter a strip club she wasn't working.

She dug in her purse. The bouncer cocked a brow at her. She wasn't in the habit of carrying cash. "Fifty?" she said, giving him a sheepish grin.

"Back of the line." The Wall pointed down the street.

Sabrina stamped her foot, because something had to work on this guy but she wasn't good at tears on demand. "My boyfriend just went in there!"

It was a gamble. An entreaty to his sense of fairness. An appeal to his white knight by a damsel in distress. Girlfriends at strip clubs could bring extra cash. They bought dances for their men, paid to watch and sometimes bought dances for themselves which their boyfriends invariably paid to watch. Sabrina had always steered clear. More often than not, girlfriends were nitroglycerin just waiting for the right, explosively destabilizing bump. She was definitely of the later type tonight and she'd bet her bank account the bouncer knew that.

The Wall raked a hand down his face like he wanted to claw it off. "Of course," he ground out. "That I can believe is true. Tall guy, right?"

She nodded. A flicker of shame licked Sabrina's heart. It wasn't the truth. He wasn't her boyfriend. But she needed him to be. How had it taken nineteen years to figure that out?

The Wall heaved a sigh. "Back of the line, lady." He said it like he hoped he was no longer on shift when she got to the front of the line.

Farts. She was not going to win this. She stuck out her tongue, because the eight year old inside her head wanted to express herself and flounced towards the end of the line. A chuckle went up from her audience and even The Wall's face toyed with an amused grin. At least she hadn't made any enemies.

Thirty paces down the block, a forty something dude with a receding hairline and muffin top flirting with beer belly stepped out of line. He did a kind of clumsy half-bow and motioned to his place. She smiled at him and shimmied into his space before the guy behind could cut her off. The dude flipped off his buddy.

The balding, muffin top waved him off. "That was the best entertainment I've had in a month. Don't want to over do it. I might exceed my quota and have an aneurism."

The men about Sabrina chuckled. She ducked her head. She was used to being looked at but not used to being laughed at. After four years of dancing she could tell just by their body language why they were there. The loudmouthed, chortling guy beside her was a serial-cheater, while the guy a step behind had an open relationship. There was an uncomfortable, quite dude who wouldn't meet her gaze. It was probably his first time but the guy with the slimy smile was an entitled college aged asshole who was probably handsy. They were the worst. He'd get hauled out by a bouncer in under a quarter of an hour. Balding, muffin top looked a little green around the gills. She guessed he was thinking about another woman somewhere and ashamed of himself.

Sabrina thanked her benefactor and he wandered off. The shuffle, stop, shuffle, stop line went back to telling the bad jokes they'd found on their phones--which left Sabrina with nothing to do but stew.

She checked her phone, ten-forty-six p. m. How long had she argued with The Wall? Had Kyle selected a stage yet? A girl to drool over? Was he dropping enough cash to draw her attention? Did he need to drop cash, because, oh-em-gee, he was pretty. Had some bitch climbed in his lap? And, farts, when had she started referring to women as bitches? Sabrina's chest pressured up with a relief valve scream. She blinked, because tears threatened.

She wanted to be Kyle's first dance. She wanted to be Kyle's best fuck. She wanted to be Kyle's only everything! She'd been shoving him off for nineteen years and he was about to realize he'd waited too long, that there were other fish in the sea, that he was a good catch. An icy shaft of fear shattered her spine. FUCK! Sabrina scooped a nail under her eyeliner.

She checked her phone, ten-fourty-six p. m.

Sabrina hung her head. Tonight was going to be so long. She was going to be a hot mess before she made it to the door. She shot off a text to Kyle, not that he'd ever notice in there.

"Bee?"

Sabrina's head snapped up. Dread scampered over her skin like an army of scurrying millipede. "Carl?"

Carl grabbed her wrist. "What are you doing here?" His voice was iron. He tried to draw her from the line.

Sabrina yanked back hard, freeing her hand. She rubbed her wrist, checking to see if she'd lost any skin. "I'm going to the club." The men around her chuckled. Great!

"Look at the sign, Sabrina." Carl was mad. He rarely used her proper name unless he was upset. She was Girly Girl far more often than Bee. She was almost never Sabrina. Sabrina rolled her eyes so hard they might've been at risk for popping out. She did not need to look at the neon to know there were exes. "I like dance clubs." The men nearby guffawed.

"It's not that kind of club, Sabrina." He reached for her again. She dodged back. The men about her blocked his path. Her heart warmed. If only she weren't the center of Carl's attention. If only she were in there with Kyle, or better yet, he were out here with her and she was the center of his attention. To keep Kyle's attention, she'd do a striptease right there in the street if she needed to.

"I happen to like women," Sabrina said. She'd never even hinted at that to Carl before but it was true. She liked women--in exactly the way she'd implied. What wasn't there to like about women? She'd happily go out with the right woman if she weren't lusting after a man right now, one very specific man. Said man was probably being licked by some other woman right now! He was one dance from knowing he was better than she. One dance from knowing he could have everything he ever wanted minus nineteen years of baggage. She needed in that club.

Distracted by the hamster voice in her head squeaking about how bad she'd fucked up, she forgot to dodge. Carl's hand snaked between her half ass body guards and caught her elbow. He yanked her from line. "You are not going in there, Bee." He dragged her into a quick walk.

"Let go!" Sabrina tried to put on the breaks but her sandals just skid in the gravel. Behind her, the line surged.

A monster hand wrapped itself around Carl's wrist. Another wrapped about her arm, just above where Carl's hand clung to her elbow. The hand on Carl's wrist cinched down until Carl's fingers slackened their hold on her and she was gently, but firmly, pried from their grasp.

The Wall calmly guided her behind him. He rounded on Carl. "The lady said, 'Let go.'" His voice was low, dangerous. It was his bouncer-means-business voice.

Carl turned six shades of red. "She's my girl!"

"I'm not your girl! I'm not even a girl. You didn't know me when I was a girl!" Sabrina yelled from behind The Wall.

"Since when, Sabrina!"

"Since I don't know? Maybe when you tried to beat down my apartment door after I said, 'I'm breaking up with you!'"

"That's not fair. You broke up by text."

"Not fair? Not fair! I asked you to meet me. You were having Fortnight night." A groan went up from the audience. Cat calls and heckles multiplied. "I was dumping you. I didn't want you to have to bail on your friends. Besides, we broke up over the phone. How is me saying I don't want to date any more not fair? What's not fair is that you won't take it like a man and leaving me alone!"

"Holy fuck," The Wall groaned. He planted a palm on each of their chests and held them at arm's length. Phone camera flashes were going off all about them.

"And now you are here in Cracker trying to turn my boss against me."

"It's my job to review--"

"You should not have taken it, Carl!"

"I take it this is not the boyfriend you thought entered the club?" The Wall said.

"He most definitely--is--not." Her voice fell. "And Kyle's probably getting a lap dance right now."

"Kyle, The Zit?" Carl yelled, "Since when are you dating Kyle?"

"Since none of your business!"

The Wall turned to the red splotched Carl. "Go home."

"She--"

"Now!" The Wall roared. Carl back peddled. He shot Sabrina a flesh scorching glance and hands in pockets, shoulders bowed, he wandered away.

Sabrina rubbed her elbow. "Ow," she hissed at the sting. Carl had probably taken a layer of skin with him despite The Wall's efforts to gently pry her away. The phones were still flashing. Sabrina could see the social media tag now, #CrackedInCracker.

So this was her fifteen minutes of fame. Nothing but down from here--which was exactly how she was feeling. She made an ass of herself in the public fight of the millennium over a strip club. She didn't deserve Kyle. Up until she'd driven him to it, he'd never even been in a strip club. She wasn't ashamed of her past. Her choices. She wasn't! But--farts.

Shoulders hanging, cradling her still stinging elbow, she turned to go.

"Ms. Drama Llama." The deep voice vibrated her ribs. She looked up. The expression on The Wall's face suggested he might be regretting his words even before they were out of his mouth. "You're up." He motioned towards the door.

A few strides inside the club, Sabrina paused. EDM paired with psychedelic strobe light set to a frequency that was sure to give her a headache, washed over her. Her eyes clocked the ATM by the bar. She scanned the stages, or more accurately, their patrons.

She came up empty. She moved deeper into the press, now scanning table and lap dances. She could not find Kyle. But he was here. Not only had she seen him duck inside, she could feel him. Sabrina wasn't sure how, but it'd always been that way. She could feel Kyle before she saw Kyle. It was like his presence increased the pressure of the air, making it harder to breath.

Again, her scan came back with nothing. Which meant, private booth. Defeated, Sabrina's gaze did a halfhearted sweep of the curtained back rooms. Her eyes landed on a man pillar taller than even the bouncers. Euphoria spiked.

And crashed. The young thing that had Kyle's hand was so hot Sabrina would've wanted to lick her on a before-Kyle-had-stolen-her-sanity night.

Sabrina tagged the booth that brunette and Kyle disappeared into, cut in front of some dude waiting for the ATM and shouldered the previous customer out of the way the moment they had their cash. She emptied the ATM and ran to where she'd last seen her Zit.

She ripped the curtain aside. A metal on metal shriek sounded. The bouncer's attention had been on a couple of men that'd gotten a little handsy with an entertainer. Sabrina the used opportunity to slip in unnoticed.

The oh-em-gee-she's-hot and I-wish-I-had-her-eyes brunette flinched when Sabrina barged inside. Shy act turned to real embarrassment in a heartbeat as red scrawled across the young woman's exposed flesh. The brunette hastily covered herself with what little she had.

Sabrina had not meant to do that. But she couldn't bow out and she didn't have time to apologize. Given half a chance Kyle would go ape shit, draw the bouncer and then they'd all be thrown out.

"Five grand." Sabrina slapped a pile of cash she'd withdrawn from the ATM in the performer's hand. The brunette's eyes darted between Sabrina and Kyle and back again. Sabrina pointed to the prop chair in the corner. "You sit there. Watch." She did not need the young woman leaving and the bouncer thinking to clear the booth.

"Uh..."

Despite her lack of attire, the girl radiated sweet, which was probably why the Kyle had chosen her. She could get fired for going along with what Sabrina was about to do. That's what the five grand was for. Should it become necessary, Sabrina hoped she had enough to bribe the bouncer too. She didn't want to cost you-look-like-candy her college tuition.

Kyle rose from his seat. His face contorted with a hundred different expressions. "Bee." Her name was a growl.

She planted her palm on the plane of his left peck. "Sit the eff down!" she growled as loud as she dared. The music was loud but the bouncer would not be deaf. She shoved Kyle, hard.

Once he was seated, Sabrina ripped her sundress over her head. She was not in the mood to play shy games or batt her lashes. She unclasped her bra and stepped out of the matching thong. Sabrina did not know Wyoming's entertainment laws but she was beyond caring. She was already tempting the lawman with the clinker.

Kyle tried to rise. Sabrina hissed and pointed to his chair. She placed her hands on his knees and sank to hers. She slid her hands up the inside of his thighs. She pressed them open. All the while she held his gaze. The green in his eyes bent towards hazel and glazed over. Confusion gave way to need. Some of the fire in Sabrina's blood burnt south. An involuntary shiver fluttered her flesh. Her core wound tight.

Sabrina snaked her head up between his legs. She breathed over the denim wrapped bulge between his thighs. A gratified hum filled her chest when he surged.

Like a charmed cobra, she continued to rise, her breasts and belly riding rough over the seam of his fly. His legs trembled and the honeyed, champagne fizzle in Sabrina's core, released, slicking her already wet sex. Her clit pulsed with a heartbeat all its own.

This was new. She'd gotten hot while dancing for some men, some women, but never like this. She was going to shatter with Kyle. She sought out the blissed gaze of Kyle's brown-green eyes. The fraying tension around her clit wound impossibly tight. A Pop-Rock fizzle swept up her torso to firework in at the base of her brain. She was certain she'd never been so turned on in her life.

"Kyle," she gasped, unable to break eye contact. His pupils dilated but she was going to shatter before him, maybe, without him.

That could not happen. She would not allow it to happen. She jumped into his lap, pinned his legs between hers. His breath smelled like mint. Maybe if it hadn't, she could've cooled off. As it was, she only got hotter. The man had listened to her and, oh-em-gee, that was hot. If she was going to make him shoot his load she was going to have to do it quick, before she lost her mind.

She placed her hands on her thighs and drew them up her body highlighting herself, for his attention. In a long, slow undulating wave she pushed her torso against his. She cradled her girls in her hands, pushing them up and when she was sure she had his attention, pinched her nipples.

A static jolt hit her--hard. Her nerves electrified. She lost muscles control, her lashes fluttered and she went momentarily blind. She was on the precipice--and slipping.

"Bee." Her name was a guttural groan. His hips thrust.

Sabrina's clit sparked upon the seam of Kyle's 501 fly. Fire raced up her spine. Her fingers scrambled for purchase in his shirt as she arched. Her head rolled back so far her blonde tresses brushed Kyle's knees. Every color and none danced behind the lids of her eyes as pleasure detonated in her core, chest and brain. Sabrina's world tilted on its axis.

Sabrina's elbow, shoulder and hip kissed the floor. "Ow." Sabrina blinked up at Kyle from her position at his feet. "You didn't catch me." It was more a stunned statement than an accusation.

"Don't touch!" Kyle said. His tone was strained. She'd soaked his fly but every muscle in his body was still bridge girder tense.

"I--you didn't..." Heat, not the sexy kind, crawled across Sabrina's flesh. She rolled up to her butt and scrambled into her pink sundress. She'd once been embarrassed about being exposed, when she'd first started dancing, but never mortified. She snapped up her purse and without looking at Kyle or the brunette, dropped another grand in the young woman's lap.

Then she ran.

Why Did We Wait?

Kyle

"You didn't catch me."

He almost had. But had he put his hands on her, he'd have come like a rocket. And she'd been clear, everyone had been clear, "look, don't touch!"

"Don't touch!" He ground out the words that roared in his mind. He still wanted to touch. He itched to pick her up off the floor. To set her on her feet. To sooth the bruises that were surely forming.

Kyle's heart surged. The pressure in his member doubled. His balls drew up at the mere thought of running a hand over her thigh. An ache banded so tight about the base of his shaft, he thrust. He fought the raw need for release, down. He would not disrespect her that way. Sabrina deserved so much better than mere lust.

Three shades of pink chased themselves across Sabrina's flesh as Kyle fought to retain his senses. Sabrina rolled up on her heart shaped ass and wrestled into her sundress faster than a four-hundred hertz two pole motor. It was then that he realized she'd wanted him to shatter. That she had shattered and had needed him to fall with her.

He would not have disrespected her by falling. He disrespected her by resisting the fall. That's what she'd been telling him all along. Look. Enjoy. Be human. Let her be human. Don't make a big deal out of it.

Kyle's mind tripped. Sabrina had shattered. On him. Because of him.

It was too late to set things right, but it didn't matter. The thought she'd shattered because of him banded steel about his mind--and shattered. Heat surged through and from his shaft. Tension cinched down on his frame until his mind cracked. Bliss exploded. He might've groaned. He might've roared. He silently roared Sabrina's name.

His senses reeled. Knowing time was of the essence, he clawed his way back to awareness. When he came to, there was another wad of cash in Kimmy's lap. The orbs of her turquoise eyes were as big as twin moons. The stunned expression on her face could've meant anything. A pink slip of a dress and a bare foot disappear beyond the curtain.

"Sabrina!" Kyle snatched up her abandoned undergarments but could only find one rhinestone sandal until Kimmy tossed him the other one.

"Go," she said, pointing. "She's already at the door!"

So much for Kimmy erasing Sabrina. Not that ten Kimmy's could've erased Sabrina. Not from his mind.

Kyle threw himself into the crowd carless of who he might plow into. He slipped past a woman, her breasts to his chest, with his hands in the air. He felt, as much as saw, the bouncers move towards him but he cleared the door before he could be intercepted.

"Sabrina!" he yelled. She was amazingly fast for being barefoot on gravel. Cameras flashed, blinding him. Tomorrow he'd be an Instagram sensation. He didn't care. Sabrina, and whatever the hell it was that had just happened, was the only thing that mattered.

Kyle broke into a sprint, using his long legs to his best advantage. It wasn't going to matter. She had a head start and she was moving. She disappeared into their tool shed "cabin" two strides in front of him. He slammed into the door but rattled the latch open before Sabrina could lock it.

But rather than forcing the door closed in his face, she was bouncing across the floor on one dirty, bruised and likely bloodied foot. She was picking the gravel from the other.

Kyle tossed her shoes and undergarments on the loveseat. He grabbed Sabrina by the shoulders and spun her to face him before she could flee up the ladder to the loft. "Bee, what was that?"

"A lap dance, you jackass!"

"You were on a date! With Cole!"

"I cut it short!" Sabrina's volume was just shy of a scream.

"Why?" He was no quieter than she.

"Because I hurt you!"

Kyle was so stunned he released her. Suddenly bereft of his support, Sabrina staggered and backed into their tiny table. She stared up at him, her brown eyes liquid, vulnerable but behind them a forest fire still raged.

Kyle's voice reduced in volume. "You ran out on me." He wasn't sure if he was referring to her date with Cole or the strip club.

"I--you didn't--you're supposed to--" She let out a strangled sound. "I was--am--mortified, okay?"

Kyle turned half away from Sabrina so she couldn't see his face and rubbed his forehead. He had come, more explosively than any other time in his life. "Why did you come--why were you at Cowgirls, Sabrina?"

"I saw you go in. Why did you go in, you ass?" She hit him, on the shoulder, hard enough to hurt.

"I'm an asshole Puritan prude, remember!" He was feeling angry again. That statement was the whole reason he'd gone to the club in the first place. This was her fault. But he'd made the choice. She was right, he was an ass.

Sabrina stepped around in front of him, forcing Kyle to look at her. "I wanted you to look at me, touch me, fuck me--not get off with some other girl."

"Sabrina" He choked on her name.

She drilled a finger into his sternum. She was still angry, "Did you not hear me? I want you to fuck me!" She turned around, braced one hand on the table and hitched the skirt of her sundress above her thighs. She pushed that perfect, heart shaped ass at him.

Fire and rage burnt through Kyle. He'd fantasized about this. Not exactly this. But he'd fantasized about her, offering. And she was offering. Despite having fallen off the cliff less than ten minutes before, he was instantly stiff.

"I don't have a condom, Bee!" He was angry, at her, at himself. His Puritan ways had now bitten him.

"So? I'm clean. You're a unicorn."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kyle growled.

"It means, I'm clean, you're a virgin, Kyle. Now are you going to fuck me?" Sabrina sounded as volcanic as he felt. She had spread her stance but there was no sexy wiggle. She was waiting to be drilled.

"What about pregnancy, Bee?"

"Pill!" The declaration was a staccato snap.

Lava burnt through Kyle. This wasn't how he'd envisioned his first time with Sabrina--his first time with anyone. He'd envisioned something sweet. Romance, with roses. He didn't know how to please a woman. But she didn't want pleased, she wanted filled. He couldn't contain the way that frayed his emotions so he slapped her, leaving his print on her ass, and she gasped.

Silence crashed. Kyle felt the sting in his hand, saw his hand print on her butt cheek. Appalled at his own action his apology knotted tight in his throat. It came out as a warped groan.

"Bee, I'm sorry. I didn't mean--"

"Again." Her voice was a whisper. Shock reverberated in her tone.

"Bee?"

"Again," she said more forcefully.

She wanted him to spank her! He wanted to love her! Nineteen years he'd loved her! The anger, gone for a moment, was back, in spades. A coiled, barbed wire ache wrapped itself about the base of his shaft. If she didn't want gentle, maybe he could jackhammer his love into her. Maybe then she'd see. Maybe then she'd understand. There'd be zero fineness. There'd be zero sweet. But he was pissed enough he didn't care.

He tore open his pants and angered by his lack of control, he spanked her a second time. She jerked, violently, and pushed her ass at him. He fisted his throbbing shaft and thrust at her. His head met wet heat, caught for a moment but slipped up her juncture. He hit a tight bundle of nerves at the apex of her crease.

Sabrina moaned. Her arm, the one braced against the table, trembled and gave out. Her hips rotated. Her torso fell. Her head bounced against the table. Kyle's second thrust slammed home.

Wet, silken heat surrounded him. Her muscles fluttered and he could feel her move about him. Kyle had never felt anything so incredibly amazing. Had she not brought him off in the strip club, he would've come right then.

He pulled back and Sabrina cinched down like she was trying to drag his orgasm out of him. When he hit the apex of his cycle, she opened, welcoming him, already in perfect sync.

"Sabrina," he groaned. He needed to taste her. Kiss her. He was buried in her but had never kissed her. He coiled her tresses in his fist and dragged her up. The change of angle had her quaking as his shaft chiseled her front wall. She lost the rhythm of their cycle and bobbed on her toes, sometimes aiding, sometimes fighting his thrusts.

"Oh--"

Kyle pressed his back to hers and angled her chin over her shoulder.

"--my--"

Sabrina's hand dropped between her thighs, right above where they joined. Kyle wanted to watch, learn her, but he was too eager for her mouth. He pulled at her nape, forcing her lips to part and brushed against them.

"--God." She shuddered, a fleshquake that vibrated his shaft, spiraled from her core to her fingertips.

Kyle swiped her tongue. She tasted of fruit candy, lip gloss and Sabrina. Sabrina was a flavor. An addictive flavor. Kyle knew right then that he was sunk. He'd never get enough.

"Kyle" She spoke his name into his mouth on a sigh. He tried to retreat for another thrust but she followed him. Gripping. Clamping. Pulsing. She tried to weld their lips but his fist in hair pinned her back so she dropped the skirt of her dress, reached behind herself, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled his mouth to her lips. She thrust her tongue against his, demanding.

Kyle pushed back. Her fingers abandoned her clit and she bent lower. She cupped his balls. The ache at the base of his shaft surged. He pushed into her, hard, as the ache swelled beyond his control.

She ripped her lips free of his mouth. She clamped down on him and as his name ripped from her throat a second fleshquake tore through her. She arched. Her core released. Heat splashed him. His ache spilled over and he erupted.

They fell apart, even as he was still coming, and he painted her butt cheeks with his seed. Sabrina staggered to the table and caught herself. She hung her head and honey gold tresses obscured her face. Ripples continued to wash over her flesh. A minute, perhaps two, passed, before she stilled.

"That was--wow." She panted. "Why did we wait so long?"

His thoughts, exactly.

Blindsided

Sabrina

Things were better, much better. It'd been more than a week since she and Kyle had shattered the barriers between them. They worked together, ate together and conversed together as partners. This past Sunday they'd explored Cracker together, discovering a bookstore, bowling alley and a barber. It hadn't been a salon, but the man behind the chair had been competent with her hair.

Unlike, Carl, Cole was cool with their breakup, not that they'd really been together. He continued to treat her with an odd mixture of professionalism and casual familiarity. At first it had made her skin itch. But she liked Cole--all of Cole--so she'd endured. And now she appreciated that he could be both a professional and a friend. God knew she needed one right now.

Carl though--he was in the perfect position to undermine her and the way he'd started drilling into every aspect of her work had Sabrina thinking he intended to punish her. So, yeah, things were not cool.

Sabrina's mind returned to her contemplation of Kyle and their newfound fuck buddy status. It was hard not to. She'd crossed so many lines with him. She was not sore, but she was--aware. Sabrina shifted uneasily in her seat. She was still crossing lines with him. If someone found out, Sabrina would be lucky if the only thing that happened was that she got fired. Every night she went to bed without a stitch of clothing on. Every morning she grasped, clenched, and shattered while she screamed Kyle's name into her pillow. He'd learned to use his fingers while he pounded her into the mattress. This left her free to helplessly claw at the bedsheets with both hands. He was still clumsy, although getting better, but it didn't matter, he melted her mind every time.

And there was no cure. Every orgasm was more intense than the one before it. In the past few days, they'd taken to moan chasing both morning and night. Pretty soon, Sabrina feared, she'd be asking for stress relief in an electrical closet during their lunch breaks. Their immense workload, the stress, was the only explanation. Sabrina had never wanted sex so bad in her entire life. It couldn't last.

The thought elicited sharp a stab in her heart. She'd be sorry when this was over. They might not have defined this, they might not be kissing outside the bedroom, but Sabrina would be sorry when they went back to their separate apartments in Seattle--when stress and circumstances no longer threaded them together like pipe in a union.

There was a knock at the door, jolting Sabrina from her fantasies. A woman that Sabrina recognized as Blackwax Oil HR stood in her door. The hot fizz in Sabrina's core, chilled. Cold showers had nothing on Human Resources.

"Yes?" Sabrina said.

"I was wondering if I could take a moment of your time, Ms. DeLane, Mr. Maurer?"

"Of course." Sabrina shifted uneasily, making room behind her desk as Kyle swiveled his chair around to join her. "What's this about?"

The HR woman stepped into the doorway, but entered no further. "Here at Blackwax we have an outreach program for young students interested in certain STEM programs. It's not truly an internship or mentoring program but a couple of times a year we bring in students interested in engineering careers and give them a week of industry orientation, tours and job shadowing. This is not something we'd normally ask of our contractors, but as a result of the fire, we don't have all our accustomed resources at our disposal. Given you are a woman and our student's interests, we thought you two would be an ideal fit for one of our student's to shadow. It'd only be for a day. She has had all of her safety orientation and been loaned PPE. We only ask that you permit her to follow you, ask questions and keep her out of harm's way--no confined space entry. Keep her a safe distance from excavations, elevated loads and the like. Nothing that requires a safety harness."

Sabrina looked to Kyle. He nodded, but let her answer. "Sure..." she said, slowly, "I guess. When?" She'd noticed a small group touring the refinery the past few days but hadn't paid them much mind. Sabrina had participated in a similar program at a hydroelectric power station the summer after she'd graduated high school.

The HR rep stepped to one side of the doorway, inside the office. She motioned to someone just beyond the door. "Today is the last day of the program. Kimberly was paired with one of our process engineers this past week but is more interested in the physical disciplines--civil, mechanical, electrical."

A young woman in a hard hat and FRC coveralls, the same NASA blue as Christina Koch's, stepped into the doorway. Despite her glasses, recognition was instantaneous. Sabrina, Kyle and "Kimmy" all stiffened. Kimberly glanced about herself in panic as though she wanted to flee but had no idea where she might escape to.

Farts. Miasma sludge coalesced in Sabrina's stomach. She wanted to throw up. She stood and extended her hand to the young woman before she could run, but it was Sabrina's hand that was shaking. Sabrina didn't know if it was shame or fury. The woman had almost danced for her man and for the first time in her life, Sabrina was beyond jealous. So, so jealous. The beauty of Kimberly's turquois eyes might've rival Joy's aquamarine.

"Welcome Kimberly," Sabrina forced herself to say. She shoved down her uncomfortable emotions. She knew how unnerving "first day" in a man's world could be. It felt unfair that Kimberly also had to face Sabrina and Sabrina's petty poison. How many other women's men had she, Sabrina, danced for? "Nice to meet you. I'm Sabrina, or Bee, if you prefer." She did everything she could to keep the venom from her voice.

"Hi, S--Sabrina" Kimberly's fingers trembled as hard as Sabrina's when their hands met.

"Kyle," Kyle said, his voice sounding as though it had forced itself through a cement mixer slurry. They shook hands but Kimberly wouldn't meet his gaze. Rouge seared her cheeks and Sabrina's heart went out to the young woman. It was hard meeting one's customers outside the club. Sabrina had gone to school with some of hers.

Fortunately, HR did not pick up on the byplay. There was nothing wrong with Kimberly's or Sabrina's choices but both would be happier avoiding more awkward. Societal expectations were such a downer.

"Bring her by the office around four. We'll conduct an exit interview and she'll be free to go," the Human Resources woman said. She exited the office. "Have a good day."

Sabrina took her seat and motioned for her guest to sit. Kyle went back to his phone, which had been cycling from one caller to the next, all morning. Week four and they finally felt like they might be bridging the gap between parts supply and demand.

"So, Kimberly," Sabrina said, again having to force pleasant, she hoped it didn't show, "did anyone tell you what we are doing?"

"Sorta, you're rebuilding after the fire. You're doing electrical?" There was interest painted on Kimberly's face despite her obvious nerves.

"I am. Kyle's doing civil while helping me. But, stepping back, I think the first place we need to start is with how I paid my way through school."

When she explained, Kimberly gifted Sabrina her first strained, but real smile. "Kim. My friends call me Kim."

"Hi, Kim, my friends call me Bee."

Kyle hung up the phone and glanced between them. A lopsided smile etched its way into his visage. "And my friends call me Kyle."

No they didn't. His girlfriend called him, The Zit, and probably would forevermore. She should maybe explain that someday, preferably before he heard about it from someone else. But this wasn't the moment. She'd have to emphasize how much she now loved that he kept popping back into her life.

Kimberly's smile turned up a notch as the nerves drained from her.

Sabrina side eyed Kyle. His attention was on Kimberly but some part of his awareness, the softest, warmest, most intimate part of his awareness remained entangled with Sabrina. She felt something ease within her and returned Kimberly's smile in kind.

Getting down to business, Sabrina ran Kimberly through the basics of project management and how she, applied it. She showed Kimberly her notes, her Gantt chart, hundreds upon hundreds of photos and discussed the types of information she gleaned from said photos and why she needed said information. She detailed for Kimberly her typical day on the fire restoration and talked her through a typical day at her Watt Engineering office. She summarized projects, large and small, that she'd worked on. Sabrina and Kyle took Kimberly into the field, showed her motors, pumps, starters and structures they were repairing.

They introduced her to Martin and Cole. Kimberly looked like she might've had emoji hearts in her eyes when she shook hands with the later. Sabrina could empathize with the feeling. Sin had that effect on man adoring-women. Kimberly's presence derailed Sabrina's day but it felt good to give back. By lunch, Kimberly was babbling excitedly about the classes she'd been taking, theories and how they applied or failed to apply to what Sabrina had shown her. Kimberly asked many sharp questions.

Sabrina was scrolling through her email while Kimberly finished her lunch when Carl entered. She'd tried avoiding Carl after their altercation outside of Cowgirls. Carl didn't seem to accept that they were broken up. She'd received dinner invites. She'd ignored them. She'd received meeting invites. She didn't know how to deal with those. If she didn't go, and it was actually real work, she might miss something important. But thus far they'd been thinly veiled attempts to woo her back under the pretense of work. How was it she could fight with the man she was nuts for and not tell her annoying ex to eff off?

"Hey, Bee," Carl said. He had a half slouched posture and his hands in his pockets. He was rocking from toes to heels in that weird way that some men did. Put all together, it looked like he was lazily, cockily thrusting. Sabrina knew it meant he was trying to appear more confident than he felt but Kimberly scooched her chair away from him. Carl's action made the teen within Sabrina want to ralph.

"Hey."

"So I finished my review, you know, for Gordon, of your schedule. He wants to hold a meeting at two."

Sabrina scrolled through the remainder of her email. There wasn't a meeting invite. "I don't have anything."

"People are too busy. They're missing same day invites. I thought I should deliver the invite in person." He looked from Sabrina to Kimberly and back again. He looked as though he wanted to talk to Sabrina alone. She wondered if he'd been spying on her door to see when Kyle might step out. Kyle had been absent for less than a minute.

"Okay, two. Where?" It'd take her at least twenty minutes to reformat her Gantt chart in some sort of legible, printable manner. "What did you find? You know this is going to take at least five months, right?"

"Staff Conference Room."

"So what did you find?" Sabrina said, repeating her question.

"We can do it in three."

Three! "You mean three more--months, right?" They'd already been at it one. The insulation was off. Pumps and motors were out. Repairs were underway. If absolutely zero went wrong, they might be able to get done in three more months. Sabrina didn't like planning best case scenarios, she preferred to estimate project timing using the Scottie Effect--estimate long, come in short--like Scottie on Star Trek. Managers wanted accurate estimates but in her experience they were more forgiving when you came in under, rather than over. She didn't double her estimates, like Scottie, but she did allow for things to go wrong.

"No, three total. Two more."

"How?" The exclamation came out of Sabrina's mouth like a shotgun blast. Kimberly jumped in her seat.

Carl rocked. It looked so wrong. How had she ever let him mount her? Had she actually ever worked with him, had she ever spent some real time with him, she suspected that she wouldn't have let him anywhere near her body. Mistakes had been made. She was disgusted with herself. "That's what the meeting is about, Bee."

"Oh, come on." She reeled in her indignation and went for saccharin. "Pretty, pretty please?" She tilted her head and batted her lashes. Kimberly looked at her like she'd lost her mind. She probably had. Her pride wouldn't have permitted her to try this on most men, Kyle, maybe Cole and, obviously, Carl. What had possessed her?

Desperation. Desperation had possessed her. It'd been a dick move on Roly-Poly's part but she shouldn't blame Gordon for wanting a second opinion. His refinery had cardiac arrest. She had skipped CPR and went straight to open heart surgery. Sabrina wondered if she would've minded so much if they'd brought a woman in to second guess her work.

"Bee."

"Fine. Okay. I'll see you at the meeting."

Carl eyes flit to Kimberly and back. "Can we talk?"

"No. I need to work, so, like, you know, you don't make origami of my plan."

"We really need to talk." He was rocking again.

No we don't. I dumped you. Accept it. They didn't have to work so close together. He could create distance, like she'd been trying to do, and get over it. The words almost made it out of her mouth. But she liked Kimberly, despite her own petty possessiveness when it came to Kyle. After Kimberly had gotten over her nerves, the woman had started to look at Sabrina like she was Christina Koch. Kimberly did not need to know Sabrina's poor life choices. Neither stripping nor dumping Carl had been poor life choices, but the choice to date him in the first place had been. If she'd really been that bored with her life she should've hunted down The Zit and mounted him years ago. Why was hindsight so clear--and foresight so blurry? "We're at work. Later, okay."

Carl looked over his shoulder. Kyle returned and Carl moved aside. He rocked one or two more times and said, "Okay."

Kyle stepped in as Carl stepped out. "What was that about?" Kyle asked, taking his seat.

"We have a meeting at two. Our schedule still needs its dick stamp of approval," Sabrina groused. Kimberly snorted.

***

Thwap, thwap, thwap, thwap, thwap.

The heel of Sabrina's steel toed boot kept rapid, uncontrolled track of the time--it was now two-oh-five. She, Kimberly and Kyle were in the Staff Conference room with its bright light, white washed cinderblock walls and asbestos gray floor. Like Kyle and Kimberly, Sabrina was in her FRC--she simply spent too much time in the field to change every time she returned to the office. Neither Carl nor Three-Piece were present. Why did some people feel their time was more valuable than others?

Thwap, thwap, thwap.

Sabrina forced her foot to still. She lasted thirty seconds. Kyle, in the chair next to her, reached under the conference table and put a hand on her thigh. Sabrina's foot thudded into the tile one last time, she released a heavy, humid sigh and slumped. This review was getting to her and it hadn't even started. She understood why Gordon might want, need, a second opinion but the way it had been executed made her feel small--dismissed--not trusted. Kyle stroked the top, inside of her thigh. The tension in her nerves was too great to fully bleed away at his touch, but they did slacken a little.

At seven after Three-Piece strode in with Carl and Roly-Poly on his heels. What was Ted still doing here? Wasn't he supposed to have gone back to the Watt Engineering offices after the electrical assessment? Honestly, Sabrina wasn't sure why he'd been sent. His assessment had helped her very little. Martin's, Cole's and the other electricians' assessments had been far more valuable--as had her own. Even Kyle's, with his decidedly not electrical background, assessment had proven more valuable than Roly-Poly's.

"Sorry we are late," Gordon said, striding to the head of the table. "I wanted a quick preview before the meeting."

He what? She'd asked for a preview. She wasn't the big, man boss but wasn't the whole point that they all be on equal footing? The starting gun hadn't even fired and she was already a lap behind. Sabrina dropped her gaze to her notes and her leg bounced. Kyle squeezed and her foot stilled. She gifted him a tight smile from under an errant lock, thanking him.

He mouthed, "You've got this."

"Who's she?" Ted glared across the table. Kimberly shifted uncomfortably.

"My BO appointed mentee for the day. She's here to observe." Sabrina wanted to add more, like, how men like Ted made the job so much harder than it had to be. But this was good. Kimberly would know exactly what she was signing up for. That was, if this didn't scare her off of engineering.

"She shouldn't be here."

Sabrina opened her mouth to ask, "Why?" but Gordon spoke first. "She's fine." As soon as Gordon's attention moved elsewhere, Ted shot Sabrina a murderous glare. What had she done? Only what Body Odor, Limited had asked her. Sabrina almost snickered at her own internal monologue. She was stressed. She was tired. She was losing it. She was definitely losing it.

Sabrina schooled her face neutral and stiffened her spine. "I'm told this is a schedule review and that two months have been shaved off my estimate. I wasn't given a hint as to how this was accomplished, so I spent the last two hours combing through my schedule, parts deliveries and reviewing estimates with the electricians. I've not found anything that makes me believe we can accomplish this job in only two more months' time."

Carl ran a hand through his thinning, blonde hair. His expression was a weird combination of contrite and challenging. "In short, you're doing work you don't need to do. Many of your estimates are conservative."

"Like I already told you," Ted said, crossing his arms under his man boobs. "You're putting way too many resources on testing and unneeded repairs."

Sabrina schooled her features. The response she wanted to give was not professional. "And we already talked about why I'm doing that. As far as my conservative estimates, they are, indeed, just estimates. But if you want me to reduce them, we are going to have to agree to disagree. This isn't just a marathon, this is an ironman. If I don't take care of my people, someone's liable to get hurt."

Gordon nodded. Sabrina though maybe she'd won a round. There was a great big banner on the wall behind his head that read, "Safety First." Not that, in her experience, companies put safety first. Profit was first. But all goals were achieved by adhering to or abandoning the values that helped or hindered. So long as safety helped, it was pursued.

"You are also doing work you don't need to," Carl said. "You're installing extra equipment grounds and using external grounds on the seal-tight. Both double installation time."

Farts. Sabrina cycled a grounding breath. Carl was right. The extra ground was not required but the seal-tight ground was. "The extra ground, it's a precaution. I've found a lot of equipment grounds worn off."

Ted shot Sabrina a victorious look. "We're not here to upgrade."

Three-Piece considered Ted. After a beat, his gaze returned to Sabrina. "We are not. What about this seal-tight?"

"BO spec."

Kyle had been furiously typing on his laptop. Neither she nor he had used their WE laptops much since being issued Blackwax Oil desktops due to the network security obstacle course but he'd uploaded many of BOs specifications just before the meeting. "BOLEP-E51-73b," Kyle said.

"I can wave the spec." Gordon sounded almost bored.

"With respect, Gordon, grounding is law." Sabrina's skin felt itchy. Challenging Brian had been hard. But Brian was a known quantity and usually on her side. Gordon was the customer and seemed about as impassioned as a rock.

"Only if the seal-tight is over six feet long. You can also use internal grounds," Carl said. Sabrina did not think he was trying to challenge her so much as to supply information. That made sense for a man that wanted her back. Still, there was the tiniest note of, "me man, you woman, me smarter than you," in his voice. Perhaps she was projecting.

"The spec is so someone can tell at a glance if there's a potential fire hazard." Sabrina kept her tone neutral, she hoped.

"There's other ways to check for ground." Roly-Poly thumped the table for emphasis. His fist on laminate tabletop sounded like a fleshy splat.

A beat passed where Gordon considered their words and then addressed everyone. "Is there some compelling reason, a legal reason, I shouldn't wave the spec?"

Kyle's questioning gaze turned to Sabrina. She should say something. She needed to say something. In an oil refinery, where a spark could ignite a conflagration, the specification made, like, so much sense. But she'd already given her reason. It hadn't been accepted. Her heart told her to stand her ground. Her brain asked, "How?"

Bowling, Really?

Kyle

It was Sunday. They'd been to the gym, grocer and laundromat. It was early afternoon and Kyle was pouring over a used, ragged Louie L'Amoure he'd picked up at the bookstore. There was some muted, pre-season, talking heads, NFL show that Sabrina had put on TV. Sabrina was laying on the loveseat, her pink deck shoe sneakers kicked up on the wall, texting. She was wearing a frilly top that exposed a finger-width of mid-rift and cutoff jeans so short the pockets showed. The waist of said cutoffs was low enough there wasn't hardly any denim between the waistline and the cutoff hem. He wondered why she bothered wearing them. He could see the white spaghetti strap where her thong peaked above the beltline. He'd read the same paragraph, nine times. Sometimes, when he was trying for another glimpse he'd catch contact bubbles for Sunshine Joy! and Looks-Like-Candy Kim.

He wondered if Looks-Like-Candy Kim was Kimberly. Kimberly was not Sabrina, but she had caught his eye. An image of Sabrina and Kimberly on him, double cowgirl, while they made out, entered his mind so clearly it felt like an out of body experience. He was instantly tight and his member ached.

So did his heart. He and Sabrina had been going at it like jackrabbits for more than a week. But, outside the bedroom, they didn't kiss. They didn't hold hands. They didn't hug. Other than that time she'd been so nervous in the conference room, they only touched when they bumped by accident. They hardly kissed in the bedroom. So far she preferred being on her belly and he always entered her from behind. Kyle had gained access to his forever fantasy girl's body, but not her heart.

And now he was jealous of a woman--which was both idiotic and ironic. He was pretty certain Sabrina had been jealous of the same woman. Nothing else explained her barging into their booth and erasing all chance that he'd ever have of being able to get off with another woman, ever. If Sabrina dumped him, when she dumped him, he was so screwed.

Sabrina let her phone slide from her hand to the coffee table, trusting the sparkly case to do its job. "I'm booorrred." She said it like a fifteen year old. The longer the job in Cracker went, the less she behaved like a thirty year old after hours. She drummed her shoes on the wall. "Take me out." She levered her head against the armrest of the loveseat and blinked all innocent at Kyle with those big he-wanted-to-drown-in-her-soul brown eyes. Did she mean out, like out on a date, or just out of the house?

Kyle cocked an eyebrow. "You work sixteen hours a day, six days a week."

"Fourteen." It was her auto response every time Kyle reminded her she was working more than she was supposed to. She should've been exhausted. Kyle was so tired his muscles ached in his sleep but at this particular moment Sabrina exuded the energy of bottled lightning.

"How can you be bored?"

"All work, no play, makes Jill the worst lay."

Kyle rolled his eyes. Sabrina was sex on a stick. Sometimes he wondered if she ever stopped thinking about it. Despite nineteen years of being in the right place at the wrong time, he'd not recognized this side of her. Their close confinement had been eye opening. Had she been this ravenous with all her boyfriends? Did he even qualify as a boyfriend or was she just using him as her vibrator? She was also his boss--kind of. That's what Brian had drilled into Kyle after he'd dismissed Sabrina that day they'd both volunteered for this hell-hole job. How far were they from toing "quid pro quo?" HR would have a hay day if they got wind of this.

Sabrina stuck out her tongue and rolled up on her seat, wandered to the fridge and grabbed a lemon vodka soda. She considered it a moment, didn't pop the top and put it back. She turned around and leaned up against the refrigerator's closed door. She crossed her arms, under her boobs and Kyle's eyes snagged on her belly button when her top pulled up.

"Uh, Kyle, I'm up here." She said it playfully.

Kyle's gaze rocketed to her face. The smirk that played on Sabrina's lips suggested she'd intended to trap Kyle's navel seeking gaze. Heat crept up his neck. "So--uh--what do you want to do?" he managed to cough out. He had some ideas. So did the thing pressuring the seam of his jeans. His eyes were drifting down again. How was her bared belly such a turn on?

"I don't know. I'm bored. I never know when I'm bored. That's why I asked you."

"We haven't tried the theater."

"Ew, really? Have you seen what they're playing? It's all like cars and guns and BOOM! I'm already bored. I don't want to have to kill myself."

"We would not want that," Kyle said dryly. He had noticed Sabrina skipping over cars and guns and boom on the movie channel in favor of sports like cricket--that she then didn't pay much attention to. She mostly gravitated to rom-com and national sports leagues. Kyle figured it was the cheerleader in her, but maybe she just liked objectifying muscle bound men. He had noticed her interest peaked during interviews--especially locker room interviews. A thought occurred.

"Do you play fantasy football?"

Sabrina's posture animated. "And basketball, hockey and soccer."

"Maybe we could do that."

"I'll so whip your ass. But honestly, that'll literally only occupy me for ten minutes. I've already picked my teams for this year."

It'd probably take him longer than ten minutes to learn all the team names. He had been going to suggest collegiate. That way he would've at least known that So-Cal would win every game. Except he'd heard something somewhere, So-Cal was leaving the PAC-12--or maybe everybody was leaving the PAC-12?

He had one suggestion left. He steeled himself for her third rejection. It'd go something like, "Really, bowling?" because, really, bowling? Kyle had had a few bowling dates in high school. The girls had seemed to have fun at the time. Well, except Mindy. He'd tripped and emptied an entire thirty-two ounce cup of icy beverage right into her cleavage. It'd earned him back slaps, from all the boys she'd ever dumped, for weeks, but he felt bad. Regardless, with or without clumsy feet mishaps, he'd never landed a kiss, or a second date, with any of them. "There is a bowling alley." He felt the heat rising in his neck even as he said it.

A smile exploded upon Sabrina's face. "Oh-em-gee, you're right! Why didn't you say that first?"

Um...

Kyle didn't register how Sabrina got from the fridge to the door, but a moment later, when he was still in his chair, she skipped over, grabbed his hand. "Come on."

Kyle let himself be dragged from his chair. Sabrina trotted a few steps ahead while he locked up the shed. "You really like bowling that much?"

Sabrina shrugged. "I mean, I don't have a jersey emblazoned with gutter balls, or balls. I'd rather dance, play volleyball, water ski, sky dive--stuff like that. I even went to a rodeo with Joy once. But it's fun, something to do and we can chat. I'm going to invite Kim and Cole, 'kay?"

Kyle's rapidly escalating mood took a nose dive. "Aren't they busy?"

"Kim's shift doesn't start until five. Cole's at the gym." Her thumbs were already dancing on her phone.

Of course she was keeping tabs on her mountain of muscle. He suddenly wondered why she'd broken off her date with Cole. Yeah, he, Kyle, was sleeping with her, and, yeah, he'd never thought that would happen, but the closer she got, the more doomed a real relationship seemed to be. Sabrina was using him for sex, no man but he would complain, but Kyle had wanted to be the center of her attention for as long as he could remember. Now that he'd gotten a taste, he needed Sabrina even more. He understood "if you love someone, let her go," but sharing was hard.

The walk to the bowling alley took about fifteen minutes. It was weird how some of the parking areas were paved when the streets were not. But even the paved lots were littered with tumbleweeds, dust and asphalt fractures. There were lines for Cowgirls, the laundromat and the RV dump. Beyond the outskirts of Cracker, the "RV city" had grown so large that Kyle had little idea of where it might end.

Which meant Cracker's modest venues were overloaded. At the bowling alley, men clustered about the lot smoking, drinking and laughing. A sheriff's pickup was haphazardly parked by the entry, lights flashing. Kim joined them at the door in booty shorts that looked like she'd taken fashion advice from Sabrina. The women, nearly a decade apart, looked more like they could've been sorority sisters. Kyle's hackles rose when he noticed the number of men checking out the women's backsides as they bounced up the stairs. Hypocrite that he was, he was one of them, although, his eyes, were glued on one ass only.

Despite the increased press of bodies, stepping inside was a blessed relief from the blazing, late August heat baking Cracker. By the sheer luck of the sheriff's presence, several bowling lanes had cleared when they walked in. The women chatted, seemingly oblivious to the lustful gaze leveled their way, while Kyle rented shoes and a lane. Sabrina bought drinks. Kyle clocked that she'd bought a raspberry draft for herself. She entered their names into the score keeping prompter as Kim, Sin, B and Z.

"Sin?" Kyle and Kim asked together. Kyle had just finished lacing up his shoes.

"Yeah, Cole," Sabrina said, smiling. Did she sound a little breathy? Did she look a little dazed? Was he projecting? She touched Kyle's shoulder and pointed a painted nail towards the entry. Cole, a mountain of a man, scoped the crowed for them. "He looks like a Babylonian god."

"Oh-my-God! He does." Kim bounced up on her toes and waved. "Cole!" Sabrina's wave was more subdued but no less familiar.

Kyle turned away to scan the racks of balls. "How am I 'Z,' Bee?"

A sound erupted from Sabrina that suggested she'd interrupted a giggle. A smile quaked on her lips before disappearing. Laughter lit her warm brown eyes. She stepped close and dropped her voice so only he could hear. "Oh, you know, I think you're gone but you just keep popping back into my life."

It was hard to argue with that. He'd noticed the same thing. Every time he thought he'd have a chance to get over Sabrina, she'd explode back into his life. "And how does that make me Z?"

Sabrina walked her fingers up his chest to his chin. She pin cushioned a spot just left of center. "You're like a zit that keeps coming back."

"Bee." He heard the annoyance in his own voice. "That's not flattering."

"I know. I wasn't trying to be flattering. I named you that right around Junior Prom. We weren't exactly friends at the time. Now..." She rolled her shoulders in an apologetic shrug.

Now? Now he was her vibrator and he was a zit. Cole was a Babylonian god. Kyle got to bang Sabrina only because they were bunking. Kyle had to believe she'd rather have been with Cole. Until this moment, she'd not even touched him, other than by necessity, outside of the bedroom. He couldn't notice that she'd place him, Z, last on their bowling lineup.

"Hey, got you a drink," Sabrina said to Cole. She handed Cole an amber draft that she'd placed on the scoring table. She'd not gone out of her way to hand Kyle his. "I didn't know what you drank, so I got you the same as him." Sabrina made a weak wave in Kyle's direction.

"Not a problem," Cole said, his voice a deep rumble. Kyle thought he saw Kim blush. Cole took a sip, nodded at Kyle and said, "Not bad."

Kyle nodded in return and resumed his search for a ball. He did not want to watch the women fawning over Sin. What had happened to bowling with Sabrina? She certainly wasn't bored, anymore, but it had little to do with him.

Kim threw the first ball of the game, right in the gutter. Her second throw stayed in-lane but deflected off the pins and only scored the right half. Cole hurled a sixteen pounder so fast it hit the pins like a meteorite--and split. His second throw hit the nine pin so hard it slammed off the side board and spun into the opposite gutter, missing the ten pin. He'd returned to the bench and thrown an arm over the backrest. When he'd taken a drag on his beer, Kim had scooched an inch closer to him.

Watching them, Kyle nearly missed it when Sabrina's child weight, girly pink ball delivered a strike. Kyle spared.

In the second frame, he spared again. But he could not catch Sabrina's early lead. She sank two strikes, a spare and more strikes. She had a strike and a spare in the final frame. He couldn't have caught her even if she missed all the pins, but she'd still taken her time sizing up her final shot in those too short shorts. Kyle had not been able to tear his eyes off her. When she wiggled her ass, he knew he'd been caught. When it was his turn to throw down his pants had pinched and his ball had guttered.

"I thought you said you didn't bowl," Kyle said. Kim was setting up a second game. Cole was off getting drinks and snacks.

Sabrina cocked a hip. "I didn't say I didn't bowl. I said it wasn't my first choice."

Kyle glanced at the score board. Kim - 98, Sin - 123, B - 200 - Z - 140. "You clearly bowl more than we do."

Sabrina twirled a lock of hair about her finger. "Well--" She dragged out her ell. "--I was an Axeman cheerleader."

"What's that got to do with it?"

She flashed a smile. "Lots of dates. Charlie's was just up the hill from the practice field."

Kyle groaned internally. Of course she had had a lot of dates. Not only was she beyond pretty, she was smart, active, flirty and, as he'd come to realize recently, superbly confident in her own skin--more confident than he. What teen with raging testosterone could have helped but been drawn to that.

The second game the girls did better, the boys did much, much worse. Kim edged out Sin's--er--Cole's score by two points and missed beating Kyle by three. Cole muttered something about how much skin the women were putting into the game. Kim had laughed, as she rubbed herself on his lap. Cole cursed, wrapped his mammoth hands about her waist and set her on the bench beside him.

"Are you even old enough to drink?" he growled at her.

"Yes" Kimberly pulled out her ID and waved it in Cole's face but across from them, Kyle saw what she'd hidden from Cole. She had another ID. The one in her hand was likely fake. Cole plunked his beer on an end table, trapped Kimberly's hand and took the license from her. Kyle's observation of their antics was interrupted when Sabrina dropped sidesaddle in his lap. She hooked an arm around his shoulders and looked over at her friends, her face glowing. A submarine tried to burrow through his pants, straight into her thigh. She looked pointedly down and then back up to meet his gaze. She winked. She was in his lap, smiling at him, happy and so unbelievably sexy that there was more than a passing risk that he might erupt. Perhaps, mayhap, she was into him? Kyle felt a swelling ache inside his chest that rivaled the one between his legs.

"So do we have time for another game?" Sabrina asked the group at large.

Cole shrugged. The motion made Kimberly bounce. She was in his lap again. "Sure do."

"I can maybe play one more. I should probably make tracks about three-thirty. Need a chance to eat and shower before my shift."

"Shift? At the refinery? What do you do?" Cole asked. A skin blistering blush scrawled across Kimberly's flesh. She jumped up and ran over the scoring table. Everyone noticed. Cole mouthed at Sabrina, "What did I say?"

"So," Sabrina said, bouncing off Kyle's lap. His soul cried at the loss. "Let's try something different. Teams. Kim and Kyle against Cole and I. One person will play the top of the frame and the other the bottom. On the next frame, they'll switch off. The winning team will sit over here." She plopped down beside Cole, a good foot between them.

Kimberly beamed at everyone and then whispered, "thank you," at Sabrina when she didn't think anyone else was listening. Kyle thought he could see the gears turning in Cole's head. He caught the moment Cole's gaze blanked off in the middle distance as he stared through the wall in the general direction of Cowgirls. Kyle did not see the shock--or judgement--that he knew would've scrawled across his own face but Cole's expression did soften the next time he looked Kimberly's way.

Ignorant of Cole's epiphany, Kimberly set up the teams as SS and KK. She joined Kyle and sat so close he could feel her warmth. But rather than the desire to feel up the sex goddess that had climbed into his lap a few weeks past, he felt more like he was shielding his kid sister--except, he'd never had a kid sister. It occurred to Kyle Sabrina's comfort with herself bordered on miraculous. He had not known he could admire the woman more, but the swelling in his lungs threatened to burst his ribs. He swore he would never ever again judge a woman, anyone, for such meaningless choices. He glanced at Sabrina, and saw something that shocked him.

Her posture was stiff. Her fists clutched the edge of her seat. She was trying not to look at them but every time her eye's accidentally flicked their way, it was like being diced by a lightsaber. When Kimberly saw it, there was a moment of confusion and then she scooched away from Kyle. Sabrina relaxed, but a moment later she looked ashamed.

KK won the game. Sabrina's inability to bring in double and triple frame scores, every frame, significantly handicapped her game. Still, Kyle wasn't sure she hadn't thrown the final frame. She'd taken three pins on Cole's spare. SS lost by one point. Kimberly went over and hugged her. She whispered something in Sabrina's ear and Sabrina hugged her tighter. Kimberly joined Cole but Sabrina wouldn't meet Kyle's gaze while they returned their gear.

But as they walked out, Sabrina surprised Kyle by slipping her arm about him and her fingers through a belt loop. His ribs creaked--how far could they expand? In order to accommodate, he slowed and his hand snaked around to rest on her far hip. She lay her head against him. A few paces ahead, Kim threaded her fingers into Cole's hand. He looked down at her and slowed his pace, much as Kyle had for Sabrina, so she could walk with him. Kyle felt Sabrina smile against his shoulder. Glancing down at her, he swore he saw hearts in her eyes as she looked at them.

"Did you plan that?" he asked. Kyle nodded his head towards Kim and Cole. They were too far behind the other couple to hear their words over the crash of balls into bowling pins. As the afternoon had worn on, the alley had grown rowdier with those playing and waiting.

Sabrina turned her head up so that she was looking at him as they walked, trusting him to guide her right. "I hoped."

They separated in order to exit the building. Ahead, Kim said something to Cole, waved at the two of them and peeled off towards wherever it was that Cowgirls had put their entertainers up. Cole thanked them for the invite and he too moseyed off in his own direction.

"You don't think she's too young?"

"I know his size makes it deceptive, but Cole's younger than we are. They're not that far apart."

"She's not even twenty-one. Do you think they're right for each other?"

"For now." Sabrina threaded her hand into his.

"For now?"

Sabrina waved her unoccupied hand like she was trying to take in all of Cracker. "Yeah, for now. School starts in a few weeks, Kim will go home."

"Then why bother? I mean, if it's just a few weeks."

"Everybody needs a friend, Kyle." She sounded exasperated. "It doesn't have to be forever. God knows, it seldom is." He nearly missed the hurt, the longing in her final words.

Was that what they were, friends? Friends who fucked--for now?

Roomates

Kyle

The day's heat, even though the sun had set, baked their bedroom. The air conditioning had not yet managed to chill the loft. Despite that, Sabrina was wrapped about Kyle, one leg hitched over his hip, her boobs--with their soft warmth--crushed into his ribs and her head upon his pillow. He, like she, had stripped his shirt, because Sabrina was right, waking with sweat around his collar was uncomfortable. He, unlike she, was not bare below. He still wore his black boxer briefs.

And he was stiffer than three-quarter inch rebar. She had not yet asked him to screw her, pound her, plow her, spank her or one of the dozen other ways Sabrina said, "fuck me," this evening. Nor had she said, "love me." She'd never said that. Not to him. Not once.

Which made the cuddling unusual. For some weeks now, bedtime had started with Sabrina on her hands and knees and ended with her belly to mattress, moaning into her pillow. At first it had been heaven, but the burn in his chest had started to hurt.

Sabrina moved, just slightly, and nipped his lip. Kyle's heart imploded. It was the closest thing to a kiss she'd gifted outside of sex. Even though she settled back, their noses were so close he could feel the stirring in the air with her every inhale. It was impossible not to breathe her air--mint, cherries, beer and the apple scent he'd come to associate with her. The cherry must've been the remnants of her lip gloss, because, post bite, he could taste it too.

"Whatcha thinking?" The hand cradling the back of Kyle's head massaged fingers through his hair.

Kyle heaved a lead laden breath. He could not tell her that he wondered what this was. That he wondered where she saw it going. If she loved him or if he was just a convenient stress relief? He'd never imagined his grade school angel becoming a centerfold. But that was what she was, that's what she'd become, a seductress. He was trying so hard to grow, to let her be herself, but he couldn't help but wonder how long he had before he was thrown out like a soiled pad. He wondered if she'd feel a twinge of remorse. Kyle could not say any of that. So he said the other thing that was on his mind, instead.

"I was wondering why I'm not inside you?" His words came out as a Jake brake growl. The question was a legitimate one. He was wondering that, even though he didn't want the cuddling to end.

Her gaze turned pensive. A slight frown bowed her lips. She fingered his hair while she considered her words. She canted her hips and set her juncture right on the ridge in his boxers. Wet, humid heat soaked through and he nearly lost his mind. Sabrina undulated, one time, and ground--hard.

Sabrina's lips popped open on an anima sigh. Her eye's rolled up in an expression he'd never seen before, because she was always facing away when it happened, and shivered--even the fingers on his scalp, trembled.

"Is that--that what you really want?" she gasped, when she came to. Her gaze looked dazed.

Want? What he wanted was to hold her, capture her, own her, protect her, worship her. He wanted her all for himself. But some part of him whispered that that wasn't love. Love freed her. What he desired was to love her.

"What were you thinking, Bee?" He sounded grumpy in his own ears.

Sabrina closed her eyes. She gently tugged, stroked and tugged again at the locks of hair between her fingers. There was a slight smile--was she sad--on her lips when her gaze met his once more. She played with his hair some more.

"I was thinking that I had a good time today. Thank you."

"Uh-huh."

Sabrina rolled her eyes so hard it was a wonder she didn't sprain a muscle. "Way to make me feel appreciated."

"Sorry." He was.

She pushed their noses together and gave him a quick peck. "Thank you. And thank you for letting me invite Kim and Cole."

"You're welcome."

Sabrina smiled at him but he didn't think she missed the ill will he couldn't quite hide in his tone. Kyle wanted Sabrina to himself, which, again, wasn't love. The split in his mind was making him insane.

To distract himself, he asked, "What's up with Looks-Like-Candy Kim?"

A green flicker flashed in Sabrina's brown eyes. "What about Kim?" Kyle could hear that she'd schooled her voice.

"How you have Kimberly in your phone."

"Oh--um." A beat pulsed.

"Yeah?"

"Um, you know I'm--um--bi, right? Like a lot more bi than--um--just being okay with kissing girls now and then." Five colors of red scrawled across Sabrina's flesh. "That--uh--doesn't mean I want a threesome or anything. I'm kind of a one at a time kind of girl. And I can't share y--" She choked on the last word but he got it anyway. His chest expanded until he though his heart my burst out of the cage of his ribs with this new insight. He couldn't share Sabrina either, not even with Kim, who he honestly liked, kind of admired, and had it not been for Sabrina, probably would've lusted after.

But did Sabrina mean she only got in bed with one person at a time or that her relationships were exclusive? He wanted to ask. He needed to ask. He was afraid of the answer.

"How did you figure that out?" Kyle felt his face heat a little. He was talking about women, with a naked woman.

She blushed again. It was not a typical response for her. "In a locker room, when I was like, young. It helped with the exotic dancing. By the time I was eighteen I was already good at calming my nerves when I got naked in front of others."

Holy shit. The shower room. Grade schools with those open locker room showers. No wonder the men in The Tool Box's shower room hadn't concerned her. She'd had little choice but to put herself on display for a good many of her formative years. If the hen pecking in the girl's locker room had been anything like the boy's locker room, it was lucky she wasn't scarred for life. What was he supposed to say? Sorry didn't sound right. Why would he, should he, be sorry for someone else's preferences?

"I had no idea, Bee."

Sabrina smiled weakly. She moved in and gave him another peck. Kyle's wood, throbbed. She was so hot. And beautiful. And vulnerable. They were already entwined but right then he wanted to wrap his arms about her and never let go.

"I didn't advertise it. Unless, I like knew, knew, she was into girls."

"Did you ever date--uh--another woman I mean?"

"I am naked and you are talking about the other woman?" Her lips twitched. They're mouths were so close that he could feel the huff of her suppressed giggle.

"Yes."

"One semester. In college. My roommate. There were others but she was..." A raincloud overcast Sabrina's eyes.

"I remember you moving out of the dorm in the middle of sophomore year."

"I--" She cycled a heavy breath. "That was bad. I was--she was--" She heaved another sigh. "I was her forever. She was--I don't know what she was--my girlfriend, I suppose. Not my forever. She was talking cakes and dresses and sperm donor babies and she was way, way, way ahead of me."

Kyle ached for Sabrina. Her roommate. Himself. Because Sabrina's roommate was him. Because he wanted cakes and weddings and babies and he was way, way, way ahead of her. "I'm sorry, Bee," he managed to choke out.

Sabrina gifted Kyle a peck, her lips, soft with emotion. She banded herself about him, tighter. "Would you--I'm ready to--could we--have sex now?"

I Can't

Sabrina

Sabrina had tried. She had tried so hard to say something else. She wanted to say, "Would you make love to me, please," but the words had been sucked right out of her burning lungs as though Christina Koch had opened an air lock straight into the vacuum of space. She'd come to realize that Kyle loved her. That realization had caused her to re-evaluate every interaction they'd ever had and now she suspected he had always loved her. Her heart throbbed, nearly cracking her sternum. Dad had loved Mom. She had loved Mom. Mom had left.

Kyle had been in Sabrina's life for nineteen years--more than three times as long as Mom. So what if she'd spent most of that time hating him? Hate or no, the thought of Kyle not being there scared Sabrina to death. She'd have preferred the zombie apocalypse to not seeing Kyle again. Her life would be over either way.

"Bee, I--"

She smashed her lips to his. She didn't give him a chance to close his mouth. Her tongue swept in. Like it always did whenever they touched, cathode and anode sparked, her nipples pinched and the current melted her core. Molten amber simmered between her thighs. The already stiff ridge pushing at her juncture throbbed. Need crowded the hearts out of Kyle's eyes. Sabrina could not do love but she was comfortable with this--hot, naked, unadulterated lust.

She envied Joy and Cade. She wanted what they had. But Sabrina had come to realize that she did not, could not, trust it. She could not trust herself. She sobbed into Kyle's mouth and ground herself on him. She tried to scramble up on her knees but Kyle pushed her onto her back.

"Not this time, Bee," Kyle growled at her. He kissed his way up her jaw and lipped the diamond stud in her ear. Trapped, she writhed beneath him.

"Kyle, wait I--"

He worked a hand between them, spread his fingers over her belly and descended. The pad of his finger circled that bundle of nerves just atop her crease.

A dynamo shorted in her clit. Lightning arced through her neurons. She slammed her pelvis into his, detonating a second explosion. She ground her ass into the mattress and arched, smashing her chest to his.

"Kyle--I--"

Kyle nipped her in the soft juncture between her collar bone and throat. Heat swirled there.

"--oh my God!" She was on the precipice. She understood that it was easier for her than some women, but she'd never climbed so high, so fast. He stilled his hand and the ache for more, to be filled, became unbearable. She helplessly clawed at the sheets, seeking an anchor to ground herself. She was one spark from a system wide outage.

Kyle raised his head and smirked at her. His face, his eyes, his knowing look, the intimacy was too much. Missionary with Carl had been no big deal. That man hadn't come close to touching her heart, but trapped beneath Kyle, she risked losing her soul. If she watched him shatter, and shattered with him, it would end life as she knew it.

Kyle scanned her face. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she breathed, not wanting to tell the truth. Kyle wanted this. She could close her eyes. She'd be able to hold her heart together. Maybe.

"You sure?"

"Yeah," she grumbled. How dare he see through her lie?

"Hey, now." Kyle's voice was gentle, concerned.

A pressure vessel ballooned within her tear ducts. One burst with a wasp like sting. Heat burned a track towards her ear.

Kyle leapt off her like he'd been scalded. The sudden loss of his heat, made her shiver.

"Bee, what's wrong?"

"I can't--I can't--" She pointed between the two of them. "--do this, this way--" Yet. She'd meant to say, "yet." God, it had to be yet. The alternative was too terrible to contemplate. Kyle needed intimacy. She needed Kyle. "Can we just--maybe not--tonight?"

Kyle's expression spoke of disappointment, but gentle concern, too. "Of course"

Barely holding onto her tears, Sabrina turned on her side. Kyle drew her shoulders into his chest and pulled the sheet over them. Between the needy ache in her core, the shaft denting her backside and the sting in her eyes, it took a long time to fall asleep.

The next morning, at her request, Kyle plowed her face down into her pillow. But when she shattered, she'd not moaned, she'd not screamed.

She'd sobbed.

I llll You

Sabrina

They'd made it eleven hours and thirty minutes. It was their shortest work day yet. But it was only Monday and Sabrina had to like drag herself out of the sedan when Kyle parked in front of Two Buttes for dinner. Not for the first time, she noted how girly pink and sparkly her sequined sneakers looked juxtaposed to her overly manly fire rated clothing as she plodded, head down towards the restaurant. The jeans and heavy, blue, NOMEX button down wasn't comfortable, didn't breathe and didn't fit her quite right. All the little irritations seemed so much bigger today. She'd gotten so little sleep the night before.

But all that was manageable. The ache behind her sternum wasn't. Cowgirls had been a huge--massive--revelation. And, for a time, it'd been enough. But Sabrina was starting to realize Kyle had been waiting for her since the beginning--from that very first pigtail tug nineteen years ago. She was still wrapping her head, and heart, around that. He wanted more. She wanted more. She was his Joy. He was her Cade. She got that. But giving more meant risking something she'd not jeopardized since she was six years old--her heart. How did someone just cut out her own heart and hand it to another on the hope they wouldn't toss it in the trash when they got bored of playing with it? Wasn't part of Kyle's attraction that she was inaccessible? Her heart being the toy he couldn't have? Would he still treasure it once he owned it? Did he already own it?

Most definitely. The answer to the last question was definitely, most definitely.

Sabrina's heart squeezed so hard that she was surprised she didn't feel her ribs snap. She rubbed her chest to relieve the ache.

Kyle held the door for her. She gifted him a tight smile in thanks. The hour was earlier and the restaurant more crowded than they were used to. The wait-staff had diversified, now including men, and the attire had been toned down as the eatery had become more concerned with flipping customers than drawing them. Two Buttes, at least for the time being, could no longer be considered a breastaurant.

Thirty-four minutes later, their table was ready.

"Girly Girl. Bee? Hey, Bee!"

Farts. Carl. All she wanted to do was eat, shower and find some way to tell Kyle, "I love you," or at least some toned down version of that, to tide him over until she could, you know, actually say, "I love you," to him without spiraling into something that felt like cardiac arrest.

"Yeah?" Her response sounded like it'd been uttered by a fatigued sloth. Kyle bumped into her when her feet stopped moving. Apparently multitasking had been dumped out with the bath water. She couldn't even walk and talk at the same time let alone pat her head or rub her tummy.

Kyle stepped aside and waited for Sabrina. She forced her feet to drag her body in their hostess' wake. Carl pushed through the crowd in the waiting area in an attempt to catch them.

"Bee, can we talk?"

"About what?" Kyle bumped her. Her pink sneakers had stopped moving again. Sabrina commanded them to continue their weary plod once more.

"Bee, alone?"

Kyle was behind her. She could not see him, but she felt him stiffen. "Carl, I want to eat sometime this century."

"Fine," Carl muttered. He followed them to their table.

The hostess stepped aside and motioned with her hand. "Will this be okay?"

It'd have to be. The bus station was across the aisle. The kitchen was just around the corner but there was no other vacant space. The clatter of utensils and dishes was loud. "Yes," she said. She slid into the booth. Kyle slid in across from her. Carl pushed in beside her.

"Carl, please." She could not keep the weariness from her voice. "Not now." They were broken up, except, she never quite managed to convince him of that. She did not want to do this in front of Kyle. She did not need Kyle thinking she was cheating on Carl, or worse, moving on without telling him. Carl would probably bring up their argument outside Cowgirls. She did not want Kyle questioning his importance in her life--although she had yet to tell him.

A harried waitress, Sabrina recognized her as Michelle, raced up and asked them for their drink orders--including Carl's.

Farts.

Sabrina ordered a Redd's Raspberry Ale and a monster burger. If she was going to do this, she needed fuel. Kyle and Carl put in their orders as well. It wasn't like they all hadn't memorized the menu in the past month.

"Why are you here?" Kyle snapped. "Do you not make life at work shitty enough? Do you have to ruin our dinner as well?"

Carl ignored Kyle. "You're ghosting me, Girly Girl."

That, she had been. "Carl, I'm not a girl. Or a girly girl." Sometimes, even at thirty, she was, but it didn't mean she wanted to be labeled as one. She was more than her sometimes behavior. "I'd rather you call me Sabrina. I've told you that before." There was no fire in her words--just fatigue.

"Bee, you must be joking, that's our name."

"What are you talking about?" Kyle's glower moved from Carl to Sabrina. "Sabrina?" Already dark, Kyle's expression turned into a cyclone thunderhead. Great. Sabrina pleaded, please, please, please understand, with her eyes.

Turning her attention back to Carl, she said, "Do we have to do this now?" Sabrina didn't wait for him to answer. "It was never our name. No one calls you Girly Girl." God, ralph. No girl, no woman, would aspire to be a stocky, five seven, hair thinning at thirty man. What in like Jimmy Choo's shoes had she seen in him? Had it been his atomic blue Ball Engineer II watch? Had she really been that bored with her life? Where had Kyle been? Her time with Carl had been the longest no Kyle void in her life.

"Yes but--"

"Look, Carl, we broke up. Don't call me that anymore."

"Outside a strip club!" Carl barked, "That you were in line for!"

The gaze of every person in the vicinity snapped to Sabrina--which meant like thirty men were staring at her. Kyle was not the only one with shock scrawled across his face. But his was different. She'd danced for Kyle in said strip club--illegally. His shock was that she'd needed to break up with not one, but two men, before entering said club. He'd known about Cole but had he picked up on her relationship with Carl? Discomfort wormed its way down her spine, because, yeah. How was it that she wasn't used to having her insecurities stripped bare?

"No Carl, we broke up more than a month ago, in Seattle."

"Over the phone!"

"Can you blame me? You tried to break down my door. The neighbors had to call the cops! We're not together. We broke up. Please leave."

"Bee"

"Please leave."

"Sabrina we need to talk."

"No we don't. We broke up. We're through. Please leave, Carl!"

Several men at the tables about them shifted. Kyle stood. He really was a tower--a Burj Khalifa space scraper amongst mere mortals. "The lady asked you to leave." His voice was like a Nanna growl coming down from the clouds. Even exhausted, something like mulled honey wine warmed in Sabrina's core. She stared up at the man that might as well have been her animus--her guardian spirit--her very own vengeful god. She couldn't help it. She licked her lips.

Kyle's dark mask cracked--for just a beat--his gaze pinned to her lips. His attention returned to Carl. The mask soldered shut.

"I haven't got my meal yet!" Carl snapped.

"I'll pay for it."

"I'll grab a box," Michelle said. She slid Sabrina's and Kyle's dinners onto the table and ran off with Carl's. How long had she been standing there?

"This is not fair, Bee! Tell him I'm your boyfriend."

Sabrina dropped her face into her hands and groaned. How dense could he be? Was she like wearing a slave collar? A ring? Next thing she knew he'd be getting down on one knee. "You. Are. Not. What part of I'm done do you not understand? I. Dumped. You. Now leave me alone!"

A collective growl rose from the tables around them. Some dude called, "Hey jackass, bitch don't want you, go home!"

Great! Sabrina planted her face in her hands. She had said, "Please." She was the bitch.

Michelle raced back with Carl's boxed meal and practically threw it at him. She planted a hand on her hip and pointed a nude nail towards the exit. Her shirt and shorts were less revealing than the first time Sabrina and Kyle had visited Two Buttes but she still managed to look like a pissed sex bomb with a lit fuse.

Carl shot Sabrina a pleading look. She ignored it.

"Go," Michelle said, "now." Kyle stepped forward and hooked a hand under Carl's bicep. Carl slid from the booth and shook it off.

"Fine, I'm going." Carl stomped towards the exit. "We are not done, Girly Girl." Her name was not an endearment.

Michelle hovered, her expression uncertain, while Kyle retook his seat. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

Sabrina chugged her raspberry ale. "Yes," she said and handed Michelle the glass, "four more of these."

***

Sabrina's foot missed the first rung of the ladder up to the loft. She almost giggled but bit it back. She was trying not to tip Kyle off to the fact that she was sloshed. There was no hiding that she'd had a little too much. As exhausted as she was, four more raspberry ales had been five too many.

She missed two more rungs on the way up the ladder. Behind her, Kyle put a hand on her ass as though he was going to push her up.

That was nice. Sabrina settled her weight into his hand.

"Bee?"

Sabrina wiggled her butt in his hand seductively. Or in a way that she thought was seductive. Maybe?

"Not helping, Bee."

God. She should not be trying to seduce Kyle while the room was moving. But that was the plan. That's why she'd gotten sloppy in the first place--so she could say, "I love you," without having a heart attack.

She resumed her climb--and flopped on the floor of the loft. With a groan, Sabrina levered herself up on her hands and knees--she didn't dare stand, the loft had no safety rail--and crawled to the bed. She was half on it, her face buried in the comforter, when she heard Kyle come up behind her.

"Make love to me." Her voice was muffled. It was like she was talking to the mattress or something.

"Bee, you're drunk."

Sabrina tried to sit up on the bed... and completely missed. Her rump potato dropped on the floor. She'd have a bruise in the morning but at the moment she was too numb to feel it.

"You don't think I know that?" There was a lot of snark in her tone. Sabrina wasn't sure if it was directed at Kyle or herself. "I can't do this sober."

Kyle sat on the floor beside her. "Do what sober?"

Wasn't it obvious? She couldn't make love sober. Sabrina leaned into Kyle's shoulder. She had too. For stability. She could feel the whole Earth spinning on its axis and it was making her dizzy. "This," she said. Her face slid off his shoulder and started a slow descent, across his chest, towards his lap.

"You mean, blow me?"

Omigod. Sabrina giggled. Then hiccupped. And then giggled again. His denim wrapped package was staring her in the face--practically bopping her on the nose--and it was swelling bigger. She licked her lips. Because, yum. She opened her mouth to give him some over the pants enticement.

No! Wait! She was supposed to be staring in his eyes, while he came his brains out and she fell irrevocably in love--as if that hadn't already happened.

"I meant--I can't--I want--" Each phrase came out as a needy whine. How was this so hard! People made love every day. People said, "I love you," ten times a day. What was their secret? A wasp was jabbing at her eyes. It wouldn't be long before she cried.

"Bee, it's okay. Maybe we should talk about this after you get a little rest."

"NO!" Sabrina used a fistful of Kyle's shirt to pull herself upright. She clambered into his lap, straddling him. The edge of the loft, to her left, seemed to tug at her. Oh God, she was listing.

"I want--I want to look in your eyes while you come in me. I want--I need you to see me when I come on you. I want--I want--oh God--" A wet broken sound issued from her throat. "I want to make love."

"Sabrina--" Kyle brushed her hair out of her face, stroking her cheek. His face looked so kissable, so tender, so concerned. "--are you even able to have an orgasm right now?"

The wasp chose that moment to sting her. A hot, burning tear seared her eye before burning a path down her cheek. "Kyle, please!"

Kyle drew a sharp breath. Sabrina buried her face in the crook of his neck. She would not survive his rejection.

"Anything you need, Bee. Anything."

"Good." Her grin felt goofy on her face. She leaned her forehead against his shoulder, because she required the fingers on both hands for her fly but she needed the extra point of contact to keep from falling out of his lap.

"Kyle?"

"Hmm?"

Kyle's hand passed down her back in a long, languid stroke. Contentment radiated out from everywhere his fingers touched.

"I llll you."

There was a rumble in Kyle's chest that vibrated Sabrina's tits. Sabrina decided it was a happy rumble. She tried again to open the snap on her pants.

"I llll you too, Bee. I llll you so much."

A warm, fluffy, pink feeling blossomed in Sabrina's chest and it grew and grew and grew until she thought she might float away.

Then she passed out.

Boyfriend

Sabrina

It'd been a week and a half since she'd shut Carl down. Things between her and Kyle were not perfect, but--better? They still hadn't defined this thing between. She'd still not said, "I love you." Not that she remembered anyway, although some days her heart swelled so large her chest felt like a pressure vessel without a relief valve. Kyle hadn't said, "I love you," either. But they made love, every night. As impossibly explosive as sex had been before, making love was immeasurably better. She could no longer pretend it was just stress relief.

Work stress had been so steady, so long that it had become her new baseline. Sabrina and Kyle had been tackling the rebuild long enough they'd gotten over the initial flurry of activity and the "fourteen hour days" were starting to drag. From time to time, Sabrina had found the occasional opportunity to breathe.

This was one of those times, and at well past fourteen hours for the day, she felt it might be a good time to shut down, take a break and get a little more R&R before the next plodding slog come morning. Sabrina packed up the prints that'd been swimming before her eyes for the past fifteen minutes.

But Kyle was still hard at it. They'd discovered a pipe bridge sorely compromised by the fire's heat. He was pouring over NDT reports, ASCE designation and earthquake acceleration factors. Repairs were going to be tricky, costly and vital. It already boggled Sabrina's mind that the welds on the sagging twenty-four inch amine line still held.

"Are you going to be long?" she asked.

"I don't know. I can't make sense of the original construction. There's zero contingency loading. Perhaps lines were added after initial construction? I think it might be overloaded."

"It's almost eight." Sabrina was not pushing him to quit while he was concentrating. She was simply informing him of the time. Their typical workday began between four and five in the morning. They were usually up--as in, him up in her or her up on him--before four.

Kyle checked his phone. He didn't wear a watch. "Shit. Fifteen more minutes, Sabrina. If I don't have it figured by then, I'll leave it for tomorrow."

Sabrina considered waiting. But then she'd work and she'd be the one in the middle of something when he was done. Perhaps she could, like, catch a nap? "I think I'll wait in the car."

Kyle shot her a look. Tired? Annoyed? Grumpy? He moved to pack up his prints.

"I didn't mean for you to quit. I'm just going to--" Pass out. "--relax. I can't do that here."

Kyle nodded. "I'll be out in a minute." He looked less annoyed. They were both running on fumes. It affected their relationship. It was hard to always put their best feet forward when they were exhausted. Her best foot sported chipped nail polish and probably smelled like boot.

"'Kay" She grabbed her purse and the Watt Engineering laptop she lugged around, but rarely used and headed for the exit. Unlike much of Cracker, BOs parking area was paved. The lot had emptied of the dayshift crews but operations and construction were around the clock. Despite the hour, there wasn't a single empty space in the lot when she trudged out to their sedan, which looked like a forgotten toy, amongst all the trucks.

"Hey, Bee." Sabrina's name was a deep base rumble that vibrated her chest but no longer warmed her core. Of late, Sabrina's lady bits stirred for one man, one person, only. Her core quickened at the thought. She could've been dead and still had enough energy for what Kyle did to her in bed. Sex that transcended death. There was a thought.

"Hey, Cole," she said, lobbing him a tired smile. He still looked as impressive as a Babylonian god but she could see the fatigue lines that softened his posture and dragged at his face.

"So where's your Zit?"

Sabrina jerked around, reflexively checking to make sure Kyle wasn't in earshot. She needed to stop calling him that. He'd been understandably unhappy when she explained that in the bowling alley. She hadn't liked Girly Girl, which was reason enough to respect his discomfort. Someday someone would say it when he was in range. They were both so tired, all the time, and their relationship so unexpected that Sabrina wasn't sure it'd survive that particular humiliation. "Um... still working?" She hadn't meant it as a question. "He should be out in a moment. I was going to catch a nap in the car."

"I can give you a lift." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder to one of the hundred or so near identical contractor tool box trucks crowding the lot. "If you'd like."

"Um..." Sabrina liked Cole. She trusted Cole. She'd almost dated Cole, for Louboutin's sake. But she and Kyle hadn't defined their relationship yet and it was making her cagey. Not of Cole, but of pissing off Kyle. The man was more skittish than a goldfish staring down a cat. It was understandable given their history, but it was easily the least sexy thing about him.

"Whatever, I'm not hitting on you. I raced you back to your man, didn't I?"

That he had. And she would be eternally grateful. It wasn't often that one met a mountain of muscle that had tamed the caveman. She nodded her assent and headed around to the passenger side of the truck he unlocked. She hopped up inside.

She texted Kyle, "Take as long as you want. Caught a ride into town." She typed and deleted "with Cole" three times before sending it. She'd already jammed the phone in her rear pocket by the time it vibrated with Kyle's response.

"I was going to eat at the diner, but I can drop you off at The Tool Shed first, if you like," Cole said.

The Pilot Station had a truck stop diner that was sometimes a welcome change from Two Buttes, Whiskey's bar burgers and freezer section food from the grocer. "That actually sounds nice. I'm going to invite Kyle, though."

"Of course."

Sabrina fished her phone out of her pocket. Kyle text said, "I'm on my way out, B."

It was just a text. She was reading too much into it. But the energy of his words made Sabrina's lungs freeze. He seemed irritated she hadn't waited. She forced her breathing back to normal. Why had they not had the boyfriend-girlfriend, we are exclusive, you can kiss me any time you want talk? She was really starting to want those kisses. They hadn't even made out on the loveseat yet.

She hadn't needed the exclusive talk--not the making out part--the making out part she definitely needed, like immediately. But she knew she was exclusive. She knew he was exclusive. But did he know she was exclusive? Kimberly had gone back to school in Logan. Cole was freewheeling again. Lately, on her time off, she'd been dressing like she was ten years younger, Carl's Girly Girl, because she needed the extra kick in the estrogen. There was so much testosterone in Cracker, she was afraid she might grow a hair lip. She dressed like a man at work and it was nice to feel girly, sometimes. She'd been exaggerating it a bit in order to find balance. But Kyle was so new at this, so uncomfortable with her showing skin, did he think she was angling for another man? A woman? Did he know that right now she couldn't even conceive of being with anyone else--like maybe, not ever?

Farts.

Her thumbs plodded over the phone. "Cole and I are stopping at the diner. Join us?" She hit send before she could second guess herself. She didn't get take backs when speaking, perhaps texting should be no different?

Cole pulled into the truck stop. Lately food trucks had been coming in all the way from Cheyanne to feed Cracker's extra two thousand temporary residents and it was late enough the place wasn't overflowing. They were seated right away. Sabrina's foot was tapping in nervous agitation by the time their food arrived. She hadn't heard back from Kyle.

"Please"

Still no response.

"Everything okay?"

"Yup" Sabrina picked at her food. She'd gotten orange chicken. Nothing in Cracker was Instagram worthy but she liked orange chicken. It was her go to on any menu. But tonight she could've been served by Diane Kochilas and it would've been just, okay. "Not really."

"Boy troubles?"

"Why are men such children?"

Cole paused, considering, before saying, "Back at you, babe."

Sabrina quirked an eyebrow.

"Look, other people are pretty much mirrors. What you see in them exists in you. If you see a child it's because you are a child."

"I am not a child," she groused. She sounded exactly like a child.

"Truth. But the part of your psych that your ego roped off as too masculine never had a chance to grow up, so it is. Thus, when you look at men, that's what you see."

Sabrina stared at him a beat. "Okay, you got me. How'd you come up with that? I didn't expect like, hippie woo-woo from you. Dad, maybe. You, no."

Cole took a bite of his chicken fried steak. Sabrina had almost given up on getting an answer when he said, "Last serious girlfriend was a psych major. I tried to put a ring on her finger."

"You did?" Sabrina's voice crescendoed with surprise. Who would say "no" to Sin? Unless, you know, they had, Kyle. But she had Kyle. Did she have Kyle? Did Kyle know that she wanted to have Kyle?

"I did. Wasn't enough, though. Said I spent too much time in the gym."

"Did you?"

"I met her in the gym, Sabrina. I watched her every day, seven days a week, for three months before I worked up the nerve to talk to her. She was like the hottest woman I'd ever laid eyes on. While we dated, she made me work out with her at the gym. She was a cardio freak. Which meant, to keep this up--" He showed Sabrina his guns. "--I had to spend extra time bulking."

"Ouch."

Cole winced, like he was in real pain, but he laughed as he spoke. "Ouch. Definitely, ouch." Cole stacked several bills on their check.

"I can help with that. I probably make more than you."

"Are you being paid overtime, time and a half, double time after sixty?"

She wasn't. That was the problem with her white collar. Better every day pay but worse shit time pay. She wouldn't normally have a problem with Cole's generosity but Kyle--damn it.

She never let Kyle pay, but their wages were similar, or should've been, he was probably getting the I-have-a-dick incentive bonus. Why did everything change because her boyfriend didn't know he was her boyfriend? That needed to change, tonight.

Cole must've seen something in her face. "I'm not going to say no if that's what your conscious demands you to do."

"No. Thank you, Cole." Kyle wasn't there. "You can pay." She placed a hand on his arm as they rose to leave. "You're a good friend."

They exited the diner, climbed in his truck and drove into Cracker. Day had turned to dusk. Outside Shed 11, gee, the cabin really wasn't any bigger than a tool shed, they said goodnight.

Sabrina paused on the porch, which was kind of a joke. "The porch" might've had enough space for a kiddy tea-party chair, but nothing that an adult could've lounged in. Flickering, Bunsen burner blue, light spilled from the play fort sized windows, which Sabrina found weird. Kyle wasn't much of a TV type. Maybe he'd found a movie. The door wasn't locked, so she stepped inside.

Kyle sat, more like loomed, in the easy chair, his arms crossed. He did not acknowledge her presence. His eyes were laser focused on the NFL talking heads like it was some kind of religion or something. Sabrina's heart sank into the witch's cauldron that had started burbling in her stomach. She should've done this so much earlier.

"You know I'm you girlfriend, right, Kyle?" She got it that his years of longing and her sudden interest left him tied in knots but she was so tired, physically, mentally and emotionally.

No answer, but his brow lowered. His head vibrated as though he had to struggle to keep his focus on the bobble heads.

"I'm your girlfriend Kyle. Only you get to kiss me, or date me, or--" She almost said, "love me," because even though what they did looked like fucking, it felt like so much more to her. But saying that felt too vulnerable right now. She couldn't remember ever saying the words love me to anyone before a week ago. "--fuck me. You're my boyfriend."

He finally turned to look at her. She flinched when their eyes met. Black hole emotion had consumed his soul. "Am I, Ms. DeLane?"

Don't Go

Kyle

Kyle had gotten Sabrina's text to join her and Cole at the pit stop diner. He'd almost not gone, he wished he'd not gone, then he'd just be an exhausted, jilted, jealous fool without this black clawing mass tearing at the very breath in his body. But he'd gone and seen them through the window, laughing, smiling, and when they got up to leave, Sabrina, touching Cole's arm, like a lover. Sabrina permitted Cole to pay for her dinner, something she'd never done with Kyle.

Kyle was so done with this, being Sabrina's Zit. How had he allowed himself to pine for a woman that clearly wasn't interested, not then, not now, not ever. To Sabrina, Cole was Sin. Was that what she was doing? Sinning against him, Kyle? Playing her ugly, disgusting, inconvenient Zit for a fool that he was? He'd known at eleven that he had no chance with Sabrina--that she was too pretty, too put together. That's why he'd tried so hard to capture her attention. Apparently, he hadn't been successful--not in the way that counted. What had Sin said? "That patsy in Seattle was a convenient diversion, a holding pattern, while she waited for something way better."

But Cole had also been wrong. She'd not been waiting for him. Now he, Kyle, was the holding pattern, until she could bunk with someone better. Namely, Cole--and then who? Once she got tired of Cole. Was this an endless cycle for Sabrina? She'd certainly cycled through a number of boyfriends in high school and college. How many girlfriends had there been? Would she always be trading up? God knew she could, no man and few women, would ever be able to turn her down.

"Kyle" His name was a sob. Sabrina hiccupped.

The hurt in her voice lanced his heart and Kyle could no longer pretend he wanted to pay attention to the talking heads. He didn't understand what they were saying anyway. Like a loadstone to Polaris his gaze slowly dragged off the TV towards the woman that'd held his heart since before he understood what that had meant. She tried to use the shell of a nail to scoop a tear from her eye but her fingers were trembling so hard she made a mess of her eyeliner. Her clutch dropped, spilling on the floor. Pain rippled across her face.

"You're my boyfriend." Sabrina's words were a wet whisper. Her knees knocked together and Kyle thought she might collapse.

The fortifications around his heart cracked. Nineteen years of rejection should've made him invulnerable, but when their eyes met, his soul dove into those vulnerable, burnt cinnamon depths. His defenses blew away like so much dandelion fluff.

Sabrina's legs folded. She landed on her rump beside her spilt purse, put her face in her hands and sobbed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered through her hiccups.

She could've been apologizing for anything. Maybe she was apologizing for getting involved with Cole before she dumped him, like she'd nearly done with him and that Carl guy. Was he, Kyle, just the latest Carl? Green, chlorine gas burnt Kyle's lungs. It forced his words out rough. "For what?"

"That I don't know how to do this. That I've never felt--" Another hiccup interrupted her.

Do what? Dump him? She'd dumped plenty of boys, and apparently girls, in the time he'd known her. That didn't make sense. Love him? No. Yes. Yes, that's what she was saying. No, he couldn't actually believe her. She had a way with the truth that messed with his mind. He would not let her fool him. Not this time. Not again.

Kyle stood. His heart was breaking. His impulse was to comfort her. But. He. Was. Done. With. That! He'd let her dangle him far too long--nineteen years too long.

He strode over to Sabrina. She huddled, crushed at his feet. "Bee," he said, his voice void of emotion, "it's not tonight. It's... not Cole. Its nineteen years of love unanswered. I can't do this anymore. We--" He paused. His heart told him he was turning down a road he did not want to walk. "--are through." He turned towards the loft ladder. "I'm going to bed."

After an eternity of no sleep, Sabrina joined him. He pretended to not be aware. She wore a T-shirt and shorts to bed. For long, long hours, she clutched her pillow and sobbed.

***

Kyle woke so tired his head hurt, his eyes stung and it felt like there was a lead ball in his stomach. Other than the glow from the LED clock proclaiming early, early hours, the loft was inky black. Given how long it'd taken to fall asleep, he honestly wasn't sure how much rest he'd gotten.

Beside him, Sabrina flinched in her sleep and whimpered. Seemingly of its own accord, her hand sought him out and when he shied away from her touch, she whimpered again.

"Mom, no. Don't go." She paused in her ramblings. "I love you." The words were a barely audible cry. Her questing fingers sought Kyle again. They found him. A burning ache built in his heart, the desire to comfort warred the need to keep his walls up, but he could not shrink away any further without ending up on the floor, so he stayed, her touch, both acid and balm against his skin.

Sabrina settled. The muttering stopped. Kyle tried to join her in sleep. But then she moved towards him.

It was too much. Kyle tugged off the coverlet they'd kicked aside and moved to the floor. Even with fall approaching, Cracker was not cold.

When he next awoke, it was to a scream. Sabrina was bolt upright in the bed, her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide. She was trembling. The words, "Kyle! Fire!" echoed within his skull.

Flexible Crisis

Sabrina

Kyle looked like Sabrina felt, if she discounted the horrible pulsing black tumor that had replace her heart. His body drooped, there were shadows under his eyes, his feet dragged and every action, his every motion, seemed to be a faltering battle against entropy. He'd been sleeping on the floor for nearly a week. She offered to take his place, but he refused. It was probably a good thing. The way she was tossing and turning, she might fall right out of the loft. Her childhood nightmares, never quite left behind, had come back with a vengeance. There were new ones as well, all full of darkness, fire, so much fire, and Kyle.

She'd fallen out of bed, twice. Kyle'd moved his "bed" further from her. She hurt so bad, but dwelling on the ruin that was her heart was not what she needed to be doing.

"Are you sure you want two grounds on this vessel?"

Sabrina closed her eyes blotting out Kyle. He was inspecting repairs on a fire damaged structure. She was supposed to be listening to Martin speaking. He'd been on her side since day one, but she could tell that even he was having a hard time with her request of two grounds on every piece of equipment.

"There's nothing to tie a second ground to and the vessel isn't really that big." Martin fell silent a beat. "Sabrina?" He nudged her.

She swayed on her feet. She pried her eyes open. For a moment she thought she might keel over, she was that tired. Autumn had finally arrived and the morning temperatures had plummeted. The wind-chill was the only thing keeping her awake.

"We're ten feet from the edge of the pad. Drive a new rod over there. Hydro-excavate. Make sure we don't hit an underground pipe or something."

Martin nodded and checked the next item on this list. This had become a morning exercise--him walking her through the previous day's finding, her providing direction or collecting info so she could research answers for questions she couldn't answer immediately. When he moved off in the direction of his next query, she plodded after him. He led her outside their normal work area to the neighboring crude processing unit. There'd been rumbling of Blackwax Oil, Limited wanting to restart it so they could put some of the lighter products back in the pipeline even though they'd still have to truck the cracker feed oil. There'd been a small amount of damage to some of the peripheral equipment during the fire but Sabrina had spent little time in that part of the refinery. Martin led her to a differential pressure instrument used to calculate flow within a pipe.

"This seal tight isn't grounded," he said, indicating the flexible conduit servicing the delta-P instrument. The flex conduit was gray, like most flexible conduit, but it wasn't quite the shade Sabrina had come to associate with seal tight.

"Gordon waved the external ground," Sabrina said. Even she could hear the fatigue in her voice.

"This isn't grounded at all. The fittings and the flex are of the ungrounded variety. Nor was a separate ground run inside." He pulled a screwdriver from his back pocket and popped a cover off a condulet. He poked a finger in and tugged on the shielded cable housed within making it easy to see that it was the only wire housed there. "Signal wire, no ground."

Instrumentation wasn't her's--or Martin's. "P&C?"

Martin nodded.

"Is this the only one?" Sabrina knew it wasn't. Martin would've just fixed it if it'd only been one. "How many?"

"Sixty and counting?"

"Counting? How'd we find this?" It'd take a practiced eye to differentiate between this "imposter flex" and the appropriate seal tight.

"The Safety Department has been making rumbling about doing a pre-startup safety review of the crude unit. I sent Brandi over to make sure we were ready. She saw the first--and, well, controls are her thing--and she started making a list."

Sabrina knew Brandi in passing. A fourth year apprentice who had, "I am here to work. Don't F with me!" stenciled on her hard hat. Turned out she, Martin and a few others had been on the Quaking ski lift job where Joy and Cade had met. Joy and Cade had fallen soundly in love. Going by her and Kyle, Cracker didn't have the same magic.

"How long to fix it?" she asked.

"Don't know. Long. It's not just replacing the flex, there's all the loop testing that'd have to be redone to."

Sabrina wanted to put her face in her hands and sleep, until it all went away. "Farts."

"Yeah."

"What do we do?"

Martin sighed. "What can we do? There's not a lot of options. Either we ignore it, we fix it on the sly and get found out or you make a lot of noise with the people up top in hopes they do the right thing."

Sabrina closed her eyes once more. She really, really wanted this problem to go away.

"We can't ignore it," she said.

"That's why I showed you."

"Farts."

"Uh-hmm."

Sabrina cycled a meditative breath. "I guess I'll go to the top."

Martin didn't say anything, but he nodded. His energy suggested he approved of her answer. He showed her a few more issues. She was able to provide a solution for one off the top of her head but was going to have to take time to research solutions for the other two. As she departed for the office she shared with Kyle, her phone vibrated her hip pocket.

"Hello?" She had to shout to be heard over the noise of manual labor. With her hearing protection in, the greeting had a hollow sound inside her head.

"Hey, Girly-Girl, there's--"

"Damn it, Carl, my name's Sabrina!"

Carl huffed a sigh on the other side of the line. He didn't bother apologizing. "Gordon's called another scheduling meeting--in ten minutes."

"I'm in the field!" She was headed back to the offices, but ten minutes was short notice.

"You didn't respond to your meeting invite. He asked me to call."

"Why didn't he just call me?" Fire singed her throat. If she hadn't been so tired, anger would've scorched every nerve, but her heart just couldn't find the energy to ignite a conflagration.

"He's busy. He was already on the line with me. Anyhow, meeting in ten. Engineering Conference Room." Carl hung up.

She was going to have to hurry to make the meeting. On top of that it seemed like Carl and Gordon had a regular dialog going on. She and Gordon had what... Carl in common. Frigging a!

Sabrina arrived in the conference room just in time to snag a seat against the back wall. There were none remaining at the table and the people that entered after her had to stand. Many of the participants she'd met in passing, safety reps, maintenance leads and contractor reps. Others she'd seen about the refinery but had had no reason to interact with. Kyle was already present at the conference table. He'd not acknowledged her presence when she'd entered. Gordon, still in his three-piece and Louboutin Greggo, this pair clean of crude oil, strode in. Someone she didn't recognize gave him their chair at the head of the conference table.

Gordon paused a moment, scanning the personnel present in the room. Apparently satisfied all were present, he announced, "We are going to start production on the Crude Unite Monday."

A cacophony of competing voices erupted. Gordon silenced the crowd and turned to the Process Safety Department's representative.

"We can do nothing before we've completed a PSSR."

Sabrina leaned towards the man beside her. He'd been kind and given her a little space in the too crowded room when she'd taken her seat. She whispered, "What's a PSSR?"

He answered in a muted, low toned voice. "Pre-Startup Safety Review."

"Ah" Sabrina sat back up.

"Arrange it," Gordon said. "Are there any known concerns?"

This was Sabrina's chance. The seal tight was a known concern. But... she'd fought this battle and--lost. "Um..."

A few people in her vicinity glanced towards her but she'd not spoken loud enough for Gordon to hear at the head of the table. Fear's icy fist reached up out of her chest and strangled her. What was the point of speaking anyway? Nobody ever listened to her.

"One of the electricians," someone Sabrina didn't recognize said, "was saying something about the instrumentation. The one with the 'Don't F with me' on her hardhat."

Three-piece looked towards Sabrina. She tried not to, but she shrank a little.

"What? What was she saying?" Carl asked, drawing Gordon's gaze away from Sabrina. "Why was an electrician looking at it anyway? Instrumentation's P&Cs."

The original speaker shrugged. "Something about grounding or conduit or the connection or something."

"Was it the flex conduit ground?"

"Yeah, that was it, I think."

Carl turned to Gordon. "We've been over this. Code doesn't require grounding on flex under six feet in length. You waved BO's spec."

"Is that safe?" one of the Safety Reps asked.

"Sure it's safe. Code wouldn't allow it if it wasn't," Carl said.

This was Sabrina's opening, her chance to talk, her chance to point out that sparks caused fires and sometimes, ungrounded equipment sparked from static, shorts or other unexpected phenomenon.

But Carl was also right. Code allowed it. It didn't feel "all right" but maybe it was? Yet there were all kinds of crazy laws, blue laws and stuff that'd just been overlooked because of past practice. The Roman Empire used lead pipe for potable water. Sometime between then and now, people had thought better of the practice. But, if she spoke, Carl, and his side kick, Roly-Poly, would steam roll her. If she didn't speak and someone got hurt? But what were the odds actually? Not speaking wasn't wrong. The installation wasn't illegal. But she'd told Martin she would. Urgh. She needed to speak, but she didn't want to.

She stalled, torn, too long. Gordon, who was watching her again, nodded, slowly, when she didn't speak up. Kyle scowled at her.

Sabrina had a hard time focusing on the rest of the meeting. She kept feeling like she needed to bring the conversation back around to the seal tight grounds but--sharts. Arrangements were made, assignments assigned and the meeting came to an end. She trudged towards her office feeling defeated.

"Sabrina!"

Sabrina ignored her name. Kyle could go to hell. He was just another asshole dick that didn't believe her.

"Sabrina!" Kyle caught her arm and spun her around. "What was that?" Anger and disbelief carved an ugly expression on his face.

No emotion, aside from weariness, sparked with Sabrina. "What was what?"

"The seal tight grounding, that's a big thing, to you!"

"Yeah, so?"

"So why didn't you say something? You asked me not to fight your battles for you but now you're not fighting them!" The pitch of his voice vibrated with frustration.

Sabrina shrugged. "It wouldn't've changed anything."

"Yes, it would've! If nothing else, you would've voiced your beliefs, in front of everyone. That counts!"

"Nobody trusts me. Nobody believes me."

"I believe you!"

Finally, finally, Sabrina felt some emotion other than weariness--too bad it was just self-loathing. "I told you that you were my boyfriend, that I was your girlfriend. I told you I was exclusive. You didn't trust that I was telling you the absolute one-hundred percent truth. It's still the truth. I gave you the keys to my heart and you still don't trust me."

Color drained from Kyle's face. Sabrina turned and trudged away.

Bridging the Chasm

Kyle

A shiver passed through Kyle. The weather had grown colder. He was outside. The damaged pipe bridge was under repair.

He should've been interested, engaged. He had found the damage. He'd engineered the repairs. Temporary supports and static cranes, for additional support, were in place. Fire proofing had been removed from the structure. The most delicate part of the job, the part where he'd checked, double checked and triple checked his calculations, where both the main structural cords, I-beams in layman's terms, and their cross members were being disassembled so that they could be replaced. Yet, you still don't trust me, in Sabrina's voice, eclipsed all else in Kyle's brain.

Brian had warned him of this. Had specifically told Kyle he was to support Sabrina, to give her the benefit of the doubt. He was allowed to question her, of course, but in the end, he was to trust Sabrina.

And Kyle had, or so he'd thought, except in his personal life, where his heart was concerned. But was there any difference? Was there a difference between professional, engineering Kyle and private, besotted Kyle?

Was there a difference between genius, feared-she-wasn't-trusted Sabrina and gorgeous, sexually confident Sabrina?

The answer was no, on both counts. Besotted Kyle had struck a blow to feared-she-wasn't-trusted Sabrina's deepest insecurity. It didn't matter that the blow had been stuck in their so-called private relationship. The blow had been struck to the same woman that wore both persona, in both her lives and was, at the core, the same soul.

She had screamed at him--screamed at him--back in the office about how much it hurt to feel distrusted and her fear that it was because she was female--as if somehow that made her less. How had he not trusted her?

And did he trust her now?

That was the nagging question. Did he, Kyle, trust Sabrina? Was Sabrina his girlfriend? Was he her boyfriend? Was she all in with him? Was she exclusive? Did he hold the keys to her heart? She said so. Did he believe it? Did he believe her? Did he trust himself enough to give her the benefit of the doubt? Did he trust his heart to recover if she failed him? Did he trust himself to forgive her?

A safe distance away from the work, Kyle saw the lift director spin her finger up, telling the crane operator to lift the damaged cord away from the structure. The crane's combustion engine revved from a low purr to a rumble. Tension snapped steel cables, taut. The structure, temporary supports and all, subtlety shifted.

When the crane pulled the I-beam away and the structure held, every person in Kyle's field of view sagged. When he let out a reflexive sigh, it dawned on him that he'd not been the only person holding his breath.

God it'd be a terrible time for an earthquake. But his anxiety would've been worse, so much worse, if there'd been propane, amine or ISO running through the pipes supported by the bridge. Come Monday, when they started the Crude Unite, there might be. Kyle thanked the heavens that this work would be done by then.

But there was so much other work that wouldn't be. No, they weren't starting the unit where the work was, but pipe serving the Crude Unit ran through, under and over the Cracker Unit. Some systems were shared. All were tied together. Right at this very moment Sabrina was working through modifications of the electrical lock-out-tag procedure that would allow for startup of the Crude Unit while keeping her employees safe. It was a nightmare job on top of a nightmare job and it shouldn't have been placed all on one person's shoulders.

Yet, ironically, trusted or not, Sabrina was the only person that could do the job. BO had electricians, and an electrical foreman, but the foreman had only been at the refinery a few months prior to the fire and Sabrina's engineering degree made her an automatic authority.

Which brought Kyle back to the question, did he trust Sabrina? Did Kyle trust himself to handle everything she threw at him?

It was an important question, one that needed answering soon, for multiple reasons. On one hand Sabrina was imploring him to trust her, trust her feelings for him and trust their long history of always coming back together again, again and yet again. This was his opportunity to grasp what he'd always dreamed of having, Sabrina's affection, and hopefully, someday, her love.

On the other hand, she needed someone in her court. Stress, fear and whatever internal demons she harbored had reduced her sleep to ninety minute increments before she woke up screaming every single night. Exhausted, she'd then sob herself back to sleep before she'd wake up screaming, ninety minutes later. Sometimes she muttered in her sleep, right before she'd wake up. Usually she was imploring someone not to leave her. Often it was her Mom.

Sometimes she cried his name. Those were the nights Kyle didn't sleep a wink.

But it wasn't going to last much longer. Kyle suspected Sabrina was close to breaking. He knew he'd have already broken. With the ungodly stress she was under, Sabrina breaking would not be pretty. It'd leave BO in a bind and many people would pay a heavy price for pushing her past her limit. As Cole had advised him earlier he needed to shit or get off the pot. He needed to back her up, believe in her and support her or get out of the way so that she had room to find someone worthy of her.

Which led Kyle to his real problem. He didn't trust that he was worthy of Sabrina. It didn't matter how much he wanted to trust Sabrina or not. He didn't trust himself--not where she was concerned. He'd been pulling her pigtails, getting on her nerves and offending her since the sixth grade. He'd been in agony watching her interact with Cole during their bowling "date." He questioned her integrity when Carl had ambushed her at Two Buttes. When she sometimes disappeared in the evenings it took all his will not to stalk her. He'd lost his sanity when she'd eaten dinner with Cole at the diner. It wasn't Sabrina he didn't trust, it was his heart he didn't trust. His soul ached for her, but how much worse would it ache if he drove her away with his insecurities? How much would it ache when she realized that she was whole and complete by herself? How much would it ache when she realized, again, that she did not need him?

While he was musing, the laborers made short work dropping the remaining, now useless, trusses from the pipe bridge. New materials, already staged, were being lifted in place. Kyle felt his stress ease and knew it'd ease even more when the temporary supports were relieved of tension.

Yet, relieved though he would be, completing this job wouldn't even begin to relieve the biggest stressor of all, his lack of faith in himself. The only solution to that was to be his best self. The self that was brave. The self that was vulnerable. The self that would tell Sabrina that he wanted to be her boyfriend and that he wanted her to be his girlfriend. The self that would be overjoyed to hold the keys to her heart. The self that acknowledged that she had the power to save him or crush him but that it wouldn't matter what she chose because he'd chosen to be his best self.

Fuck. He needed to tell her those things now, but he couldn't go, his presence wasn't exactly required but there was this thing about being present and seen by the people one led. Sabrina had been doing it for months now by spending her mornings with Martin and Cole and the other electrical leads when she could've been doing her own work. Now that he had a job that was exclusively his, he needed to follow her lead and lead like she.

Kyle stilled his hands. He'd started to fidget. He checked his phone. It was nine-fourteen a. m. The critical work had just begun. His earliest projections had them completing the job around five p. m.--likely later. He could call Sabrina, text her, but it felt like cheating to have the conversation over the phone. He needed to be where he could see her, look into her eyes and fall on his knees and beg forgiveness, if needs be. He'd waited nineteen years. He could wait a few more hours. Hopefully she could too.

The job went long. Way long. Sabrina caught a ride back to the Tool Shed with Cole. Although she had not needed to, she told him. Kyle did not question her or her motives. When he dragged himself into the loft, minutes prior to Midnight, Sabrina was asleep, whimpering. The quilt he'd been making a bed out of on the floor was folded up neatly on what had once been his side of the bed. Deeply regretting his recent behavior, Kyle lay down beside her. When Sabrina curled up beside him, he did not pull away even though his heart ached.

Five hours later, when he awakened, it was not because his roommate was screaming. Rather, those cute little snores of hers were sounding right in his ear. He couldn't have escaped the serenade had he wanted to. She was wrapped around him so tight he was pinned, like his heart.

Love

Sabrina

The void gave way to cozy, hazy dream space. Late October morning chill crawled along the back of her neck. Warmth suffused her chest, cheek and thigh. Pleasant pressure pushed at the back of her left calf where it hooked around a thigh of tight, lean muscle. Sabrina's consciousness sharpened as she drifted further from the black hole that was sleep and for the first time in two weeks, she woke without screaming. She felt more rested than any time since Kyle had dumped her.

Hair tickled her nose. Her own breath washed back at her, warming her cheeks, as it eddied about the small gap between Kyle's neck and her face. His shoulder cradled her jaw. Her own shoulder ached from the tension of banding herself to Kyle's chest.

Sabrina tightened her grip. The ache in her chest begged her to never, ever let go.

Kyle shifted. Fear skittered over her flesh like a million millipede feet. Her flesh goose-pimpled. She was not ready for this to end.

"Bee?" The shadow of Kyle's hand passed over her face. His fingers pushed the blonde blanket of her tresses behind her ear. His head rotated and when Sabrina lifted her gaze, his lovely green eyes were so close it was difficult to focus upon them.

"Bee?"

Fear skittered through her again. She cinched down on the leg she had looped around his thigh, pressing him closer. Her arm banded about his shoulder so tight it hurt. She did not, she could not, let him go. "Hmm..."

"You are my girlfriend. You--" His chest flexed. She was pressed to him so close that the motion felt like it might dislocate her shoulder. She did not loosen her grip. "--hold the keys to my heart. Only you get to kiss me. If you'll forgive me, if--" Kyle's chest flexed again. His pulse drummed against Sabrina's chest. "--you'll have me, I'm yours."

Pain seared through Sabrina's soul, but in its wake, rather than empty, terrifying ache, relief suffused her being. It swelled and swelled and swelled until she was about to burst with joy. She scrambled more fully atop Kyle. Laughing, crying, giggling she buried her face into the crook of his neck and sobbed her relief. His arms caught her in a hug and, wet joy still streaming from her eyes, she began to kiss him, quick pecks, everywhere she could reach.

"Bee..." Her name was a happy sigh. Something unknotted within him and she felt tension bleed from his muscles. There were no words that could express her relief, her peace, her joy and so, morning breath be damned, she kissed him.

Their lips met, soft--comfortable--accepting.

There wasn't morning breath or, perhaps, they canceled each other out. Rather, he tasted like something she couldn't name, clear and clean, with just a hint of toothpaste mint. His skin smelled of some woodsy fragrance and mint. She sucked on Kyle's lower lip and then nipped him. At his startled response, she slipped her tongue inside. When their tongues met, warmth swelled her soul so large she melted, filled some hole she didn't know she had and reformed her spirit as some vibrant being.

I love you.

Sabrina froze. The words were so clear they might've been spoken. Kyle continued to explore her lips, mouth and tongue with his. There was no indication he heard the voice. He'd not uttered the words.

I love you.

It was her voice, but so warm, so powerful, so full the rush of feeling threatened to overwhelm Sabrina. It came from deep inside her being.

I love you.

It, the source of the voice, the source of her voice, loved her. Yet, its love was not just for her. It was love and meant to be shared. She loved--

"Kyle?" His name was a whisper against his lips.

"Yes?"

"I l--" Sabrina's tongue stilled. Her throat closed. Mom had walked out on her love.

She tried again. "I l--" The word set up like Quikrete in her mouth. A shiver rippled through her. "I like you." Pain blossomed in her chest. Those words were not enough. "I really, really like you." She buried her face in his shoulder. Tears that'd never really stopped now stung like hornets. She bit her lip so hard it might've bled. Still, the l-word would not exit her throat. "Please, be my boyfriend!" she blurted. That eased the ache.

A little.

HAF

Sabrina

Sabrina followed along behind Martin, comparing incomplete and completed work against her Gantt chart. Thousands of men still worked at a steady, furious pace. The concrete equipment pad had been hydroblasted and was now clean of oil and soot. Stripped wire, insulation banding and overflowing trash bins littered the pump alley despite the efforts of the men whose whole job was to remove construction debris.

It was mid-October now and they'd officially gone long on Carl's three month prediction. Not that anybody, to the best of Sabrina's knowledge, had brought that up. There was still a tone of work that needed to be completed, including a couple of miles worth of piping heat trace, but Sabrina could now see the light at the end of the tunnel. More items were being checked off her work list than being added to it. All predictions suggested they'd be done in another two months.

In other words, when she'd said they'd be been done from the get go. Nobody had acknowledged that either.

Martin stopped by a pump base. The motor was missing but armored cable leads hung from the overhead cable waiting to be wired into the motor when it was installed.

"Do you know the timing?" she shouted to Martin. She had to shout. With the startup of the Crude Unit a perpetual, ninety-plus decibel roar had settled over the refinery. Hearing protection had gone from wise to absolutely necessary. Sabrina's ears still ached at the end of every work day.

"Pump Mechanics have it scheduled for next week!" Martin was also shouting in order to be heard.

Beside her, Kyle scribbled a note and for the sixty-third time that morning, cool relief washed over Sabrina, weakening her knees. It was so good to have Kyle back at her side again. It was just that--

Sabrina rubbed her sternum with the heel of her hand. For the first time in two weeks, she slept. Her man was with her again. He was her boyfriend. They'd shared the most intimate kiss she'd ever experienced. She had felt so much love--an indescribable amount of love. Love that had demanded to be shared. And yet, she'd not told Kyle she loved him. She was disappointed--

--in herself.

She'd spent her entire life hiding, keeping things to herself. Years of keeping things close, like her white-trash upbringing or exotic dancer past. Her private self, her ego, had warned saying "I love you" was too much, too soon--that "I love you" would scare Kyle away. Sabrina couldn't help but note the irony that she'd accused Kyle of not trusting her and now it was she, not trusting herself.

Sabrina rubbed her breast bone with her hand once more. Telling Kyle she liked him was a partial truth. But the truth was whole, complete. A partial truth was just a lie disguised as the truth and while no words could truly convey the truth of her feelings for Kyle, she'd missed the mark by a mile. Never before had telling a lie hurt so much. Yes, she was relieved Kyle was with her once more. His presence made her feel warm, despite the chill October wind. Still, she ached.

"Hey, do you smell that?" Kyle said. Sabrina looked up at him and then hastily turned her eyes away. Their kiss had been soul healing. But, since her not-quite-the-truth, she'd not been able to hold Kyle's gaze.

Sabrina drew in a breath through her nose. A mild, rotten egg smell tickled her nose. Then, with her next breath, the smell hit her so hard her eyes watered.

"God, ew! What's that?" Sabrina said, pinching her nose.

Martin turned, considered a moment and then pointed to the open industrial sewer that ran down the middle of the equipment pad. Storm drain styled grating capped the trough but Sabrina could see a wash of black frothy liquid flowing through it. "One of the desalters is plugged. Ops has been trying to wash it out. They're dumping the slop to the pad."

"Should we..." evacuate? Sabrina was pretty sure the stench was hydrogen sulfide. H2S was a chemical asphyxiant and killed when it loaded up too many of a person's red blood cells. In the right concentrations, it could also ignite. She checked her monitor. Since the restart of the Crude Unit, they'd all been required to wear a pager sized monitor that alarmed under a number of hazardous conditions. The simple device advised that she could both breathe and live. The intense smell eased, but it left Sabrina's eyes and throat burning.

Kyle also checked his monitor, but clearly it hadn't gone into alert, either. He shrugged, so Sabrina ignored her discomfort and tagged along after the men. It took most of the morning for the three of them to complete their task tour.

"God that was awful," Sabrina said to Kyle as they walked back to their office.

Kyle made a sour face. "Yeah, it was worse than our high school locker room after three months of rain."

Sabrina snorted. Three months of misty rain in Eugene, without let up, had not been all that unusual during the school year. Spending time outdoors and sporting events meant getting wet. Growing up there, one got used to being slightly damp, almost moldy, all the time. But, yeah, wet gym clothes shoved in lockers tended to get smelly.

"Do you ever think about moving back?"

Kyle stepped ahead of her and held the door to the office complex for her. "And do what? If you aren't into wood products, or tech, there's no work. And honestly, I'm not sure if there's any tech left either. It has all moved north."

Yeah, finding work in much of Oregon could be problematic. Sabrina would've loved to be closer to Dad, but, outside of Portland, the opportunities for her skill set were far and few between. Kyle followed her down the hall to their shared office.

"What's your favorite memory--of home, I mean."

"Besides tugging your hair?" There was a slight chortle in Kyle's voice.

Sabrina rolled her eyes even though, behind her, there was no way Kyle could've seen. "Yeah, besides, like, that."

Kyle didn't answer immediately. They entered their office.

"Do you remember Farrell's Ice Cream Parlor?"

Sabrina took her seat. "I do!" she said. "That place was sooo cool." Her excitement crumbled. "It closed down."

"Yeah, but do you remember those fifty scoop 'zoo's' they served for birthday parties and such."

"Where they like, loaded all that ice cream on a litter contraption and ran around the ice cream parlor like it was a fire drill or something? Didn't they have one of those old timey crank fire engine sirens too?"

"Yeah."

"I loved that place."

"Me too, but, well, I got knocked out of my chair when I was maybe six."

"Okay." Sabrina twisted to face Kyle as he had taken his seat facing the window. Even she heard the perplexed note in her voice. "How is that your favorite memory?"

"I got free ice cream for the rest of my life. Well, until they were shuttered."

Sabrina felt a happy trill of surprise rise in her. "Oh-em-gee. That's awesome. Did you go like every day?"

"Every day."

"I've been taken on a lot of dates there."

"I think every guy took his girl to Farrell's at least once. It worked for casual, classy and after dinner formal."

"I wonder why they shut down."

"I don't know. It was always busy."

"You probably free-ice-creamed them out of business."

"Ha." Kyle bit his lip and smirked. Sabrina's eyes locked on his lips and butterfly wings brushed her core. "What was your favorite date?"

"Um..." Sabrina felt suddenly uneasy. "Are you asking me about another guy? Another gal?"

Kyle stiffened. His eyes focused on something beyond the window. "Uh, no. I was trying to... figure out your idea of a perfect date."

"Oh." Sabrina felt a smile scrawl across her face. "Okay." She paused, considering. "I like dancing."

Because their chairs were arranged back to back, they both had to twist to look at one another. Kyle huffed a laugh and gave her side eye. "I kind of knew that, Bee."

"Yeah, so?" Sabrina supposed she should give Kyle a little more. It really was sweet that he was asking. "Okay. Yeah. So do you remember Danny Coppers?"

"The quarterback."

"Yeah, so like this one time he took me to the Electric Station for lunch, you know, all those old timey rail cars that have been converted into a restaurant down by Fifth Street Market."

"I've been to the Electric Station, Bee."

"Well, I kind of nerded out over the train cars and history and you know, all that. So, it turned out EWEB was doing this open house thing at the electric plant. Danny's dad worked there and we got the personalized tour. I nerded out over that too. That might've been the day I decided to become an engineer."

"So dinner and something to nerd over."

"Yeah. No. I mean, that's a great start but there was more. Because then there was the game, homecoming dance and Farrell's."

"Shit, Bee. How long was this date?"

"Danny picked me up about eleven a. m."

"When'd you get home?" Kyle growled.

"Late? After curfew? I'm not sure what time it was when we left Skinner's Butte. I don't remember, but I got grounded, so late. Best date ever."

"You were at kissing lookout with Danny Coppers?" There was a hint of depression in the timber of Kyle's voice.

Sabrina leaned out of her chair and pecked Kyle's cheek, startling him. "It'd been even more fun if I'd had another nerd to nerd with me."

"Carl's a nerd."

"Carl's not a nerd. Nerd is not the way he thinks. Engineering is just his job, not his passion. I think nerd all. the. time."

"Ah."

"Nor is he HAF."

"HAF?"

Sabrina gaze made an exaggerated sweep over Kyle's space scraper tall, I-want-to-lick-that frame. "Hot as fuck."

Red creeped up Kyle's neck. He coughed. Any other man would've looked smug. He looked embarrassed. It was adorable.

"What was your favorite date," Sabina asked.

Kyle bit his lip. Sabrina's gaze locked on and she sucked in a shallow breath.

"You remember Hazel Witcop?"

"The first trumpet?"

"Uh-hu."

"I was so jealous of her."

Kyle raised a brow. "You were?"

"Well, yeah. She had like silk for hair. Blue eyes. And, holy moly, she could play volleyball."

"I did not know that."

"Yeah" Sabrina dragged the word out. She let her gaze fall to her lap. "You sat beside her every day in band."

"That's where second trumpet sits, Bee."

"I know. I hated her." Farts. She'd wanted Kyle in high school and had not even known it. She'd wanted him bad. How had that happened?

"Why would you hate her?"

"Hate by proximity."

"Ah, got it."

No he didn't. He really, really didn't. How had she not known her own heart? "Anyhow, date? Tell me about your best date."

"Well, we went to Farrell's. Got free ice-cream."

Sabrina snorted. A beat passed. A second. Kyle did not speak.

"Annnd?"

"That's pretty much it. It was a month or so before prom. We were taking dance lessons together because--" Kyle tapped his finger on the keyboard of his computer. "--she wanted to. It was fun."

"You dance?"

"Yes"

"You like it?"

"Yes"

"You still do it?"

"Yes"

"You like it like it?"

"Yes"

"How come I don't know this?" Her voice climbed in volume with every word. She wanted to kiss him. Murder him. Climb him like a pole.

"You were too busy making out with your prom date."

Actually she hadn't been. She'd been making out with Danny Copper's prom date, Diana Castles, while her prom date, Casey, and Danny broed over some computer game. She'd wanted to dance but Casey was too busy broing and Diana hadn't wanted to come out so they'd locked themselves in a janitorial closet. "I was distracted, wasn't I?"

Kyle's brow furrowed. "Who was your date?"

Sabrina wiped Diana, Casey and Danny from her mind.

"I don't remember." She didn't. Why should she? She had Kyle. That's the only thing that mattered.

The Absolute Truth

Sabrina

It'd been three days since she and Kyle had kissed and made up. The l-word ache still gnawed at Sabrina's soul but, oh-em-gee, things were so much better than when Kyle'd been sleeping on the floor.

She was sleeping.

She was kissing.

She was cuddling.

She was loving--even if the word refused to leave her mouth. It hadn't left his mouth either but it was in the way he treated her. Gone were their days of unbridled passion, not that they still didn't have passion, but passion now included belonging, tenderness and soul binding empathy. Kyle's unspoken love made her feel complete, whole and so, so much more than she ever had before. Sabrina had never ever imagined feeling so--expansive.

Sabrina dragged the polish over her nail in one clean, smooth stroke. She stripped the chipped pink and was now going for a nude look while she waited for Kyle. For some reason she was out of pink. There was a great deal of it on one of Kyle's shirts.

Kyle was still out doing the weekly shopping. Their mini-fridge could only be stocked with so much microwave food. With the hours they were working, microwave food was often the only meal they had energy for. Even waiting for a meal at Two Buttes could sometimes be too much when all they wanted to do was drag themselves into a shower and then bed. Kyle'd told her to be ready by ten, it was nine forty-five, and as soon as her nails dried, she'd be ready for their date.

So where was he?

There was a loud knock as something solid banged off their cabin's door. A moment later Kyle ducked in under the low lintel of the door and deposited a handful of grocery bags upon the counter. He leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"Hi."

Awareness blossomed where his lips had brushed. She turned her face up towards him and smiled. A grin scrawled across his face in response. Oh-em-gee, she could get used to this.

"Hi." There was a hint of breathy wonder in Sabrina's voice. Never before had she been into casual affection but this was nice--so nice.

Kyle began packing the groceries into their limited storage space. "Are you going to be warm enough?"

Sabrina looked down at the date attire she'd chosen. She was wearing fleece lined, slate leggings, wedge heel boots, also fleece lined, and a white, off-the-shoulder sweater that could double as a really, really short dress. A lacy black bra strap snaked over her bare shoulder chosen specifically to tantalize her man.

"I'll need to take my FRC jacket," she said, her tone as sour as hydrogen sulfide.

Kyle slammed their mini-fridge closed. It popped back open and he had to rearrange its contents. "You brought an entire department store and didn't bring a jacket?" Kyle's tone was teasing.

"I brought my FRC jacket. I was already over the weight limit and, well, I can't live out of your man bag. You brought what, two pairs of jeans and three identical shirts."

"Three pairs of jeans. Four shirts."

Sabrina snorted.

"You know," Kyle said as if she hadn't interrupted, "if stores had like more than two racks of men's clothes and anything that fit me, maybe I'd wear more too, but they don't. It's not like six-seven is all that uncommon anymore. I mean, how many men have you dated who were less than six-two?"

Um-one. Carl was the only one that came to mind. "Not many," she admitted. "But maybe that's because I'm tall?"

"Have you lacked for dates? Ever? I mean, not counting the women."

She hadn't. Not in high school. Not in college. Not even post college. She'd always been able to find a man to have a good time with. She wasn't really into comparing her "has beens" with the man that she was hoping was her "end game."

"Yeah!" Kyle forced the fridge door closed and this time it stayed shut. "So why don't they make clothes that fit us? Even when I buy online, more than half the time they're sold out of my size, because guess what, I'm not the only man in the world who is six-foot seven."

Sabrina swept her nail polish into her makeup bag and stood. "Oh-em-gee, are you jealous?" She couldn't help the smile that scrawled across her face.

Kyle stared at her. "Of what?" He sounded grouchy but Sabrina had to wonder how much of it was play-act. She swore there was a spark of playfulness in his eyes.

"Of women's clothes."

"Yes!" Kyle said. "You guys have so many options. Last time I went to a shoe store there were like fifteen isles of women's shoes, four isles of kids shoes and one isle of men's shoes. Most of those were disgustingly ugly sneakers. What if I wanted some Blundstone for casual wear or something? Even the advertising was all aimed at women. There were like twenty-five women, four kids, three of them girls, and two men in the pictures on the walls. I mean, I know that the world is more female than male, but the ratio is more like eleven-to-nine. That shoe store seemed to think it was nine-to-one."

While he was speaking, Kyle scrambled up the ladder to the loft and tossed down her FRC jacket. She really wished she had something different, cuter and better smelling. This one smelled like work with hints of hydrogen sulfide, oil and something that reminded Sabrina of dust but was probably the platinum catalyst from the CAT cracker. Kyle rejoined her on the ground floor slinging on his own FRC coat. "You ready?"

"Yup"

They headed for the door.

"This really bothers you, huh?"

Kyle shrugged. "Not really. I mean, we've been told, trained, not to be bothered by reverse discrimination, but we do notice. I mean, I grew up in a world where girl power was pervasive, and yes, I get it, but you know, sometimes, especially as a kid, it felt like the boys were forgotten." He locked the door and they started for the car. It'd rained the night before and dusky Cracker was now muddy Cracker. Fortunately, it hadn't rained hard and the soil had soaked up most of the moisture. They climbed into their rental sedan. When Kyle used the wipers to clean the windshield, it streaked.

"You know that's mostly just advertising."

Kyle cranked the engine and they pulled out of the lot. "True. Except I was looking for something similar to a Blundstone slip on, I don't buy that many shoes. But advertising is not the only place men are being erased."

Sabrina wasn't sure Kyle was aware of it, but his tone, and expression, had lost all hints of playfulness. She felt her own mood take a nose-dive and she really, really, really didn't want that to happen. Today was supposed to be fun, yet, she couldn't help herself.

"Are you saying you're treated unfairly, Kyle? How about we compare paychecks?"

"I'm saying we're all being shit on. Every time a man disrespects a woman, he hurts himself--and every other man on the planet. Every time a woman bashes a man, she hurts herself--and her man. That goes for 'race wars' as well. Attack and be attacked. It's as simple as that. Defense is the same as attack--repeat the words you just said to me, to yourself and tell me I'm wrong."

Sabrina thought back and, farts, he was right. She'd been defending women and attacked him.

They'd left Cracker and took the gravel road west towards the mountains. The washboard bumps derailed all conversation for a minute or so until the road smoothed out. As soon as they could speak she opened her mouth to apologize. Kyle beat her to it.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. I'm sorry too, for attacking you. What are you sorry for?"

"For attacking, you, women--well, everybody actually. I hadn't meant to go there. The hamster voice ran away from me."

"The hamster voice?" she said disbelievingly. She called the voice that went around and around in her head the hamster voice, but was that what Kyle was referring to?

"Yeah, that voice that goes around and around in my head and never ever shuts up, especially when I'm upset."

"I call it that, too."

They turned towards each other and shared a smile. They couldn't speak anyway. A black wax tanker truck was roaring by.

When they could hear themselves think again, Sabrina said, "I hate that voice. What is it anyway?"

"It's the ego. The ego is all about fear. That voice, its sole purpose is to keep you distracted so that you don't learn to trust yourself, so that you don't realize that you are enough, so that you don't realize that you are so much more than your fears. That is the ego's biggest fear, that you, or I, or anyone else, might realize that we are not it. That we, unlike the ego, are so much more than our fears."

"You sound like Cole."

Kyle started. "I do?"

"Yeah, that night we--uh--had dinner together he filled my head with a whole bunch of psycho babble too."

Kyle quirked a grin at her. He flipped on a blinker. They'd reached US-30, which, thank God, was paved. "That was me nerding."

"You nerd over psycho babble? We're going to have to break up. I nerd over engineering and science."

"I nerd over everything--engineering, science, Harry Potter, psycho babble, doesn't matter. I could talk for an hour about Dr. Maria-Louis Von Franz, Katniss Everdeen or super strong concrete. You pick. I mean, have you met me, I have opinions--so does my hamster."

Sabrina rolled her eyes. Every guy she had ever met had opinions. So did she, but, actually, Kyle wasn't often vocal about his opinions, not like other guys.

"Okay. Hit me?"

Kyle looked at her, perplexed. "Hit you?"

"Yeah, hit me with an opinion."

"About what?"

"Anything."

"Anything at all?"

"Yeah, anything at all."

Kyle chewed on his lip for a minute. They turned off of US-30 onto a tiny one-and-a-half lane road headed up into the mountains to the west. There were no signs. There wasn't even a sign when Kyle's phone GPS babbled, "Welcome to Utah." Sabrina began to wonder if Kyle was going to answer her.

"I don't know if this is an opinion, because it feels like the absolute truth, but..."

Sabrina waited. Kyle went back to gnawing his lip.

"Well?" Sabrina finally asked.

Kyle cycled a heavy breath and then said, "Sabrina, I have never experienced anything, or anyone, as beautiful as you."

The First Woman to Walk on the Moon

Kyle

He'd just uttered the truest words he'd ever known and Sabrina just gaped at him. Her jaw appeared to be unhinged and those soulful brown eyes of hers looked like they might bug out of her head. For a moment, he feared she might not be breathing. Just when the embarrassment of his declaration became too vulnerable, her mouth snapped shut and her cheeks turned so red they looked like they should've blistered. She ducked her head and turned away from him.

Great, he'd definitely blown that.

"You know, it really hurt me when you pulled my hair."

They were back to that? Fuck.

"I know, I'm sorry." He was, but he wasn't sure how he'd ever convince Sabrina of that or if he'd ever be able to live it down.

"Other boys tugged my hair too."

Okay?

"It didn't hurt."

Oh shit, had he actually caused her pain. "I didn't know--I didn't think I was pulling it that hard."

"Well, actually, I didn't mean it like that, when they pulled, when they were being mean, it hurt, but it wasn't the same hurt." Her voice was muted, almost embarrassed sounding. She still wasn't looking at him.

"Sabrina, I don't know what you are telling me. Was I yanking your hair out or something? I'm so sorry."

Sabrina turned her face to him. Her eyes looked watery and her voice sounded a little sheepish but there was a smile on her face, albeit a weak one. "No, you weren't hurting me, not physically. I wanted you to like me. You kept pulling my hair and I thought that you didn't like me. I thought you were being mean and I--I really, really wanted you to like me."

Kyle didn't know what to say. She continued.

"I'm so glad you liked me, Kyle. I'm so glad you still like me now. I wish I'd figured that out a long, long time ago."

The block of ice that'd coalesced within Kyle's chest, thawed. "Uh... yeah, you know now, right? That I like you. A lot."

"Right." Sabrina's face split into a brilliant smile. Her demeanor shifted and a hint of excitement leaked into her aura. "So boyfriend, where are you taking me? Are we going to Quaking?"

"Yeah--" Kyle paused, because how had she known? He hadn't said anything but he supposed she could've looked at a map or something. "--how did you know?"

She shot him a sheepish glance and waved her hand at the mountains they were now climbing into. Groves of white barked quaking aspen, robed in autumn gold, filled the folds and creases between mountains. Even though it had rained the prior evening, the day was sunshine bright.

"I--um--" Sabrina blushed. Despite fair skin, she rarely blushed and the fact that she'd done so three or four times in the past thirty minutes was rather unusual. "--it was where Cole was taking me when--when I realized--" She cycled a lead laden breath. Her expression became vulnerable. "--when I realized I couldn't live having hurt you. That I--that I couldn't live without you in my life. You were my constant, always coming back. I need that. I need you."

Kyle's heart swelled with Sabrina. His vision filled with her beauty. Her tremulous smile filled his whole world.

Sabrina's he-wanted-to-drown-in-her-soul brown eyes flicked to the right, breaking contact. She flinched and her eyes widened in alarm.

"Kyle, watch the road!"

Kyle jerked and the car swerved. Tires squealing, they careened around a tight corner. Fortunately there was no traffic, because had there been, Kyle would've hit them head on. They'd begun the climb into the mountains and the drop off on the driver's side was no joke.

"That was fun," Sabrina said in a tight voice. She did not sound like she had fun. Kyle knew he hadn't. He'd gotten the woman of his dreams to go on a date with him and he almost killed her. His pulse was racing faster than a jackrabbit. His heart had probably hammered out ten years of his life by the time he calmed enough to ease his vice like grip on the steering wheel.

By then, the road had plunged into another canyon overflowing with golden leafed aspen and when they came out the other side they'd climbed high above the Wyoming plateau. Sabrina twisted in her seat and was looking back down the way they'd come.

"Hey, I can see Cracker."

Kyle didn't doubt it.

"I think."

Kyle swallowed his laugh. All hint of fear had left Sabrina's voice. It was not the first time he'd witnessed Sabrina banish an un-fun emotion and choose a new one. Sabrina twisted back around.

"So I think you should know something, Kyle," Sabrina said in a playful voice, derailing his thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"So, like, my BFF Joy met her forever cowboy in Quaking."

"That's a lot of pressure, Bee."

A happy smile flashed across Sabrina's face. "Yes, it is. I just thought you should know."

Kyle ran a hand through his hair while he pondered how to respond. He needn't have bothered. Sabrina's attention fixated upon a gravel road going off to their right. They'd almost reached the top of the pass. As they passed the road Sabrina's gaze followed the side road up a steep rise to what, in Oregon, would've been a logging landing but from what Kyle could tell was simply a staging area for motor cross bikes and 4-wheelers.

"I wonder what the view is like from up there," Sabrina said.

"We could turn around and look." Kyle thought he could probably get their sedan turned around on the narrow road without running it off the cliff. Sabrina gifted him an almost secretive smile.

"Maybe on the way home."

"'Kay," The vehicle plunged into shadow. Steep slopes climbed up beyond them from either side of the road. Kyle thought he saw a ski lift upon the north facing mountain. The car crested the final rise and a deep fold, overflowing with quaking aspen, opened below them. Kyle turned into a lodge just off to the left.

"Oh-em-gee, it's so beautiful." She was bouncing with excitement. Her behavior seemed a little bit like a little girl, but Kyle was beginning to realize that was one of the many things he loved about Sabrina. She was not ashamed to be herself.

"This is Bullwinkle Lodge. Joy told me all about it. She said they must've cut down an old growth forest to build it, but that it was really pretty inside." Sabrina exited the car before Kyle could walk around and open her door. Her gaze seemed to dart everywhere, from the trees, to the slopes, to the ski lifts. "Are we eating lunch at Rocky's?"

Kyle tore his eyes off of Sabrina and looked at the lodge. It did look like they'd cut down an old growth forest. The portico alone looked as though it might've required the trunks of three one-hundred year plus firs. "Yeah, is that okay?" he asked, referring to her question.

"Yes--" Sabrina bounced and took his hand. She skipped ahead, tugging him along. "--I want to see where Joy lost her marbles."

Kyle quirked a brow. "She lost her marbles?"

"My girl is totally nuts for her man."

Like I am for you?

"Did you know they're both engineers, like us?"

"I--no. I don't even know this Joy."

"Oh, that's right. Well, she is. She's a control engineer. Last Christmas she commissioned one of those ski lifts." Sabrina pointed up the mountain. "She works for us even, out of the Ketchum office." Sabrina's mood changed, and instead of tugging him along, dropped back to walk beside him. Still, she swung their bound hands in an exaggerated manner, like she couldn't contain the joy of holding his hand.

"What ya thinkin'?"

"I--uh--" She looked up at him and her happy expression turned pensive. "--I was wondering how much torque is required for a ski lift."

Kyle shot her a bemused smile. "I'm sure we can google it. Or maybe your Joy knows."

"You're no fun." Sabrina stuck out her tongue. "You're supposed to SWAG the system sizes and then calculate the requirements."

Kyle thought for a moment. The temperature dropped as they walked into the shade of the portico. "Well, how many skiers do you figure sit on a lift at one time? What are their average weights? I think we should use two-hundred-and-fifty-pounds..."

He continued his nerd ramblings as they entered the lodge. Sabrina stumbled over the threshold. Apparently she'd not been watching where she was going because she'd been too busy beaming up at him like he'd told her she'd be the first woman to walk on the moon.

Best. Date. Ever.

Sabrina

The sun hadn't set, but the mountain's shadows stretched far to the east. Somewhere Cracker, work and an avalanche of stress waited for Sabrina. She was not ready to go "home" just yet. She turned from the stunning view falling away in front of the car to the far more gorgeous one beside her.

Kyle was driving. An easy, companionable silence stretched between them. Over lunch they'd nerded over chair lift torque and fir tree tensile strength. That was, when Sabrina hadn't been losing herself in Kyle's eyes or smile. After lunch he'd taken her into Quaking, where an Oktoberfest street fair had been taking place. There'd been beer, funnel cakes, art exhibits and Sabrina had calculated the loading safety factor of the Ferris wheel, out loud, while Kyle'd clamped onto her hand like he was birthing a baby--without an epidural.

After that they caught the OSU/UU game in a sports bar. They got a lot of sour looks but that hadn't stopped Sabrina from cheerleading for their alma mater. Kyle'd received more than one envious glance.

Then Sabrina taught Kyle, Cole's STAG dance move while she danced about him at Ripper's, the dance club Joy'd recommended. Grinding with Cole might've melted her panties but Kyle turned her entire being into a molten mess. When Sabrina had thought Kyle was about to drop, despite the cold, she dragged him back out into the street fair for a shared ice cream cone. It wasn't Farrell's, but--best date ever!

Almost.

She caught sight of what she'd been looking for. "Turn here."

Kyle shot her a perplexed look but slowed the car and obediently turned on the turn signal. They turned off the pavement and Kyle slowed the car to a crawl.

"Shit, Bee, this road is bad."

The road was just a dirt track, not even gravel. Off road enthusiasts had scared the mountain side and snowmelt had taken advantage of the tracks to erode deep rutts into the trail.

"We're not going far, just up there." She tapped a finger on her window indicating the turnout she'd seen on their way up the mountain. Sabrina figured it'd have a good view of the Wyoming plateau below. It'd be a beautiful spot to watch the stars wake up.

"Okay, why?" Kyle asked as he gently eased the car over the ruts. He parked the car at the edge of the overlook. In the east, Venus winked in the deepening purple sky as she chased after her true love, the Sun. "I retract my question," Kyle said as the first stars made their appearance. He killed the engine. Carly Rae Jespen's I Really Like You played in the background upon the Bluetooth linked stereo.

Sabrina felt a dreamy smile etch her face. She didn't have eyes for sun, stars, Venus or the Wyoming plateau. She was too busy taking in a view much closer to her.

"Skinner's Butte was too far. I mean, it's like a thousand miles from here." When Kyle glanced over, surprised, Sabrina bit her lip. Sabrina clicked open her seat belt and angled her body so her full focus was upon Kyle. They still hadn't shared many kisses and that needed to change, pronto.

Kyle's gaze dipped to her lips, and hung. When his eyes found hers once more heat rivaling that of an arc flash snapped between them. Warmth swelled in Sabrina's chest until it suffused her entire being. They leaned towards each other. The space between their lips closed.

A foot.

Six inches.

An inch.

A half inch.

Kyle jerked to a stop. Confusion rippled across his expression. He drew back. He pawed about his seat until the seatbelt clicked open.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. Sabrina giggled. It came out a little desperate and breathy. Kyle leaned in again. Their lips met.

Heaven. A gentle angle wing feather brush of heaven upon her lips. Butterflies and heat blossomed within her, unfurled, expanded her chest and dipped towards her core. Heaven.

Heaven withdrew. Kyle leaned back to study her face. It was all Sabrina could do not to chase him. She would've chased him if the center console hadn't been between them.

Sabrina gazed back at him, pleading. "Kyle." She choked on his name. Her need was so strong.

Kyle smiled. His eyes smoldered. Sabrina clenched. The cleft between her thighs grew slick.

Kyle reached across the console and brushed a lock of golden hair behind her ear. A shiver raced over Sabrina's flesh as he trailed in fingers down the backside of her jaw. Hyper-sensitized skin sparked in his fingers' wake. He leaned in and--

Halted. He bumped their noses.

Sabrina groaned in frustrated annoyance. She reached over, ran her fingers through the longer hair atop his crew cut, fisted the little she could grasp and yanked their lips together. She nipped his lip and tugged, forcing his mouth open. Her tongue darted in.

Their tongues slicked together. Sabrina tasted chocolate mint ice cream, that amber ale he liked and--was that--Life Saver? Sabrina hummed. She released Kyle's hair and braced herself against his shoulder as she melted into their kiss. His hand came about the nape of her neck and pulled her tighter against him. Heaven overwhelmed Sabrina's senses.

Sabrina was not conscious of how much time had marched by before the world intruded once more. Her left hip ached from bearing her weight too long. Her shin hurt where she'd kicked the steering wheel trying to loop her right leg over Kyle. The gearshift bit into the back of her calf. The console remained a barrier between her and the man she wanted.

God, cars these days. Bucket seats. Why?

So what if they were more comfortable, rode better and had butt warmers? They made it harder for Sabrina to maul her man!

"Lean back," Sabrina demanded, breaking their kiss. She practically fell across his lap reaching for the seat lever.

"Urk," Kyle grunted, surprised, when the seat bounced back. Kyle shifted, perhaps trying to rise, Sabrina gave him no chance. She crawled across the console and knelt, thighs on either side of his lap. She cupped his jaw in both her hands and leaned in for another heart palpitating kiss.

One of Kyle hands snaked up over her gently rocking hip to toy with the waist-band of her leggings. His other hand rested easy on the outside of her thigh but his open palm was so manly big that his thumb pressed into her leg achingly close to her core. A smidgen over and she could...

Sabrina rocked. Just once. Just an inch. His thumb did not move.

But upon her backside, his other hand slid under her sweater. He found flesh and the knob of her spine, just above her tailbone. He traced the little nub with his thumb, a cool rush of--What?--Light?--washed through Sabrina. His hand moved, and he traced the next higher knob.

Sabrina broke their kiss on a desperate exhale. She was going insane. Peace, comfort and rightness juxtaposed desire, lust and a deep, aching need. She didn't know if she wanted Kyle to touch her, or maul her. She didn't know if she wanted to breathe him, or eat him.

"Kyle," she groaned into his shoulder. His questing fingers had made it to the hasp of her bra and he flicked it open. For a desperate second she thought he might move around front and touch her, really touch her, God, she wanted him to, but his fingers just continued their lazy path up her spine.

Sabrina bit Kyle, right in the soft flesh between shoulder and neck.

A surprised sound erupted from Kyle's throat. He jerked, startled or hurt, Sabrina didn't know.

"Sabrina?" There was a questioning note in Kyle's voice.

"Touch me!" she snapped. She didn't mean to sound bitchy, but her senses were on overload. He'd touched her. Now she wanted to be ravished. Once upon a time, before Carl, Sabrina had had a ravenous libido but Kyle was like nitrous in her turbo. She spooled up fast and came apart. She reached behind her, rooted around for a moment and clamped her fingers over his wrist. She wrestled his hand around front and planted it on her breast.

Contact had Sabrina welding her lips to Kyle's. She mewled into his mouth while she squirmed. She'd always believed boobgasms to be an absurd myth but, oh-em-gee, his hand on her felt so good. A few more minutes of this and he might blank her mind.

Kyle used his free hand to push her sweater up and then tweaked her other nipple through the panel of her bra.

Sabrina's eyes popped open in shock. Fire seared a path through her nerves heating every square inch of her skin. Pleasure crawled back along her synapsis and torqued her clit. She shuddered, her body tighter than a bridge girder.

"Kyle," she ground out, her muscles contracting. She felt so achingly empty. Her core was so slick she probably had a wet spot on her leggings. She rocked, trying to grind on his lap. She had to get off now!

A car horn blared.

Kyle's hands froze upon her breasts. Sabrina's body was shocked into stillness. Her core clenched, once--twice. Need's ache still suffused her flesh. Sanity was still on a knife's edge, but she was no longer on the precipice. Below her, Kyle looked as shell shocked as she. A giggle slipped loose. She eased her butt off the steering wheel.

Kyle's lips twitched into a crooked smile and then he snickered. "Was that your ass?"

"Oh. My. God!" Sabrina buried her head in the crook of Kyle's neck. She giggled again. She raised her face to look in Kyle's eyes and he gifted her a mischievous grin.

Sabrina quirked a brow at Kyle. "What are you like fi--" Sabrina squealed. Kyle's fingers danced across her ribs.

Sabrina writhed. "Stop!" She tried to escape. The horn sounded, repeatedly, but she could barely hear it over their combined laughter. "Oh God, stop." She grabbed his wrists not caring that the action caused her to fall on top of him, her chest to his face. He blew a raspberry in her cleavage. Between the arousal and sensations she squealed all the louder. Sabrina tried to pry his hands out from under her sweater but his dancing phalanges did not leave her ribs. Kyle was no Cole but Sabrina would've staked her Christmas bonus on him being able to bench twice her weight. "Please stop!" she begged, nearly choking on her glee.

His palms flattened against her sides, his fingers no longer tormenting her ribs. An airy giggle interrupted Sabrina's desperate attempt to catch her breath. She once again tried to pry his hands off but she was as successful as Sir Kay trying to extract Excalibur from the stone.

She gave up. "You're not going to tickle me, 'kay?" She slowly loosened her grip upon his wrists ready to clamp down if he so much as wiggled a finger.

Kyle's muffled, "Okay," came from deep between her breasts.

Sabrina decided to trust him, let go of his wrists and pushed off his seat so that she was above him, rather than on him, once more.

"Aw man."

"Kyle, I swear you're like five." She rolled her eyes, but, oh-em-gee, she was having the time of her life.

Kyle untangled his hand from her shirt, popped open the door and rolled her off him. Sabrina would've landed in the dirt, on her seat, had she not grabbed the frame of the car. Kyle followed her out and even before she could fully right herself, he grabbed her butt with both hands and hoisted her up. Sabrina hooked her thighs over his hips and crossed her legs behind him. Kyle slammed her up against the car.

Sabrina clenched. She grew so slick, her panties needed wrung out. Kyle moved in to weld his lips to hers and the motion scraped friction over the place she needed it most. Sabrina moaned into his mouth and began rocking. She was so hot. This was so erotic.

Note to self, some still functioning part of her brain said, only date men that can pick you up as easy as lifting a feather.

Sparks detonated in her clit, where she rocked the seam of her leggings against the ridge in his denom.

Scratch that. Only date Kyle.

Sabrina's fingers tangled in Kyle's dark chocolate hair. She pulled his head tighter while delving her tongue into his mouth. She wanted to merge with him. The feeling within her was so big, so expansive she had to share. He had to feel it too.

She broke their kiss. "Kyle--"

He kissed down her throat. He nipped that delicate spot just above her collar bone and her head fell back. Twinkling lights blanketed the heavens but she wasn't certain if her eyes were seeing the real thing or observing what was going on in her head. There were an awful lot of shooting stars. Some of them exploded, like fireworks. She needed Kyle in her so bad--so, so bad.

Kyle licked and then gently sucked on the soft flesh he'd just abused. Sabrina ground against him. Her strength bled from her. The fingers in Kyle's hair were shaking.

"Kyle--"

Kyle nipped her again. Sabrina moaned.

"Fuck me. Love m--oh God." Never mind that she hadn't said, "I love you," that expansive feeling within her cubed when she said the l-word. It was better than lust. It was better than orgasm. It was multiplying the intensity of both. Her body was climbing to heights she'd never imagined.

"Not yet," Kyle said kissing his way back up her throat.

"Kyle, please." She was losing her mind. There were tears in her eyes. She had no idea why.

A soft pop sounded as Kyle's lips released their suction on the flesh behind her ear. A shiver raced through her sparking nerves she'd never known she'd had. A desperate sound escaped her mouth and she almost came.

"Kyle." His name was the only word that remained in her vocabulary. She tried to lift her head to kiss him but her neck didn't want to support her efforts. Kyle gazed into her face, her eyes, but she had no idea what he was seeing. She couldn't focus.

Kyle stepped back. He eased her to the ground. He had to push her back against the car. She couldn't support herself. His fingers found the waist-band of her leggings and began to peel them down. Sabrina fumbled her attempt to help. She was so onboard with that.

Kyle got one boot and one leg of her leggings off before she attacked his belt buckle. They knocked heads when she dropped to her knees, but if there was any pain it was a distant thing.

Shoving him so he would stand--Kyle'd been going for the other leg of her pants--Sabrina popped the buttons of his fly. She fished his steel from his boxer briefs and engulfed him, forgoing all teasing and foreplay. He involuntarily thrust. She gagged, one time, but when he tried to withdraw Sabrina grabbed his ass and forced him into her face. She gurgled as she swallowed his shaft.

"Bee," he groaned. His fingers fisted in her hair as he tried to tug her off. "Oh God, Bee, stop."

"Nuh-uh," Sabrina hummed around the flesh that filled her throat. She massaged the underside of his shaft with her tongue. She stroked his root with her tip.

"Bee this is--" He was panting. "--so good." Sabrina felt Kyle quake. "But I--" He moaned. He, honest to God, moaned. It sounded like it'd come from the depths of his soul. "--want in you."

Finally! Sabrina popped off Kyle's cock and leapt into his arms. Even as he was catching his balance under her eager weight, she tried to drill herself down on him. She missed. His spit slicked dick slid up her crease. Kyle's little head sparked her bud and Sabrina saw stars.

"Kyle," she groaned. She buried her face in his shoulder. She rose up to try a second time but when his piston bumped against her, her core seized. Lava heat pooled within her, released and slicked a path down the inside of her thigh. Abs, rock hard with need, quaked with her desire to fill the empty ache within her.

She again tried to sink upon him. Kyle caught at her entrance and, a second time, he slipped. Sabrina nearly lost her mind. She reached under her seat, manhandled him into position and slowly sank to the root.

She had to go slow. The slow stretch sent sparks dancing behind her eyes. A live current ran from her clit to her twinned peaks and back again. That spot inside buzzed like a live wire. Sabrina felt Kyle straining within her as her core pulsed begging for his gift. Sabrina swore she could feel his heartbeat in her most intimate place.

"Kyle," she breathed, "I lo--"

Sabrina's toes curled. Her back bowed. She clawed at Kyle's shoulder. Kyle thrust, slamming her ass in to the side of the car. Kyle buried his head in the crook of her neck and groaned. Her core cinched down, he pulsed and something cracked inside her. Pleasure sparked along all her nerves and she detonated.

Forty minutes later the view beyond the car's headlights had grown too shadowed to see. Sabrina felt, more that saw, that the road had brought them out of the mountains and was now leveling out. Sabrina squirmed in her seat, uncomfortable. They'd not had a great way to clean up. No fast food napkins stashed in the dash, no kerchief, no water, just Kyle's tee, which he thoughtfully striped for her. Despite her best efforts, she was a mess. Even after all that, a needy, empty ache still suffused her core. Kyle looked over.

"Something wrong?"

Sabrina shot him a reproving look. "I'm a mess. I have a wet spot. I want more."

Kyle gifted Sabrina with a cocky smirk.

"Best."

"Date."

"Ever."

Sabrina didn't respond. She whole-heartedly agreed.

Good News Apology

Sabrina

Sabrina was positively glowing when Three-Piece--Gordon, she reminded herself--stopped by her office. Three-Piece tended to bring tough questions, doubt and un-fun times whenever he showed interest in her work but not even he could dampen her post-date glow.

That'd been three days ago, and the joy bubbling in her still hadn't gone away. Oh-em-gee, if that's what spending time with Kyle was going to be like, she was going to marry the man. No ifs, ands or buts about it.

No, she realized. She'd been planning a life with Kyle before their date. Their date just made her--their--future look all the more exciting.

"Yes," she said, looking up from her computer and smiling. Her smile wasn't for Gordon but she was always smiling these past few days.

Gordon took a seat in the visitor chair on the other side of her desk. "Ms. DeLane, I wanted to talk to you about the schedule."

Sabrina's smile faltered. Apparently, Three-Piece could diminish her mood. "Okay," she said, carefully and folded her hands atop her desk.

"In your estimation, where are we?"

"Um--" Sabrina fingered alt-tab on her computer and brought up her Gantt chart. She turned the monitor to face Gordon. "--seventy percent--" She hedged. "--maybe a little less."

Gordon's eyes dropped to his lap. He appeared to be lost in thought.

"Sir?"

Gordon's attention sharpened on Sabrina once more. "How long?"

"A month and a half?" She paused. Sabrina didn't want her answers coming out like questions but the lack of faith everyone had in her left her unbalanced. What if she was wrong? What if it was longer? What if it was shorter? This really wasn't fun. "Give or take a week?"

"It has come to my attention that you and Carl have a relationship."

Oh farts! "Had, sir, had a relationship. We broke up before I came to Cracker." That was the truth, even though Carl hadn't accepted it. She had told him it was over before she got on the plane. Things just hadn't worked out in her favor.

Gordon's eyes drifted off once more, lost in thought. Uncomfortable, Sabrina waited for him to come back on his own.

"I'm sorry I pitted your schedule against his. Had I known, I would've done things differently."

"I--thank you--" Sabrina paused. She didn't often use Gordon's name and it felt odd on her tongue. "--Gordon."

Gordon gave her a lopsided smile like he'd heard how her tongue had tripped over itself. "Don't get me wrong, Ms. DeLane, I still would've asked for a second opinion. I just wouldn't've asked for one from someone you'd had a prior relationship with. You handled yourself well, Ms. DeLane."

"Thank you," Sabrina said, her voice so soft she might've whispered.

"I have one complaint."

Farts.

"Why didn't you tell me you two had history?"

"I--um--" She shrugged. A sheepish grin scrawled across her face. "--you're the customer. It was my personal life, not really your business."

A contemplative expression scrawled across Gordon's face. He tapped a finger against the armrest of his chair. "You are right, and wrong. It is your personal life. I'm not going to tell you that you should've told me, or that he should've told me sooner, because you're right, it is your business. But right now, your business affects my business. Had I known, I could've made things easier on everyone. That's my job. The better I know my people, the better I can do it."

"I--"

"You don't need to apologize, Ms. DeLane. You did nothing wrong. But think for a moment. While you're not related to the guy, this is one reason companies have nepotism rules."

"Oh, okay," she said in a small voice.

"You are a very capable person, Ms. DeLane, you should consider trusting yourself more. Sometimes telling the truth you perceive can be scary, but you're more than capable of handling the fallout--and in the long run, it's easier."

"Um..."

"Now that I've met my coaching quota for the month--" A chuckle rumbled in Gordon's chest. "--to business." He moved forward in his seat. "We are downscaling many of the re-build crews. Piping is nearing completion. Most of mechanical is in place. Instrumentation is installed. We are cutting back on all of those crews. Insulation and electrical will remain on pace."

The confidence that had fled Sabrina, returned from its time-out. "Okay, I don't think that'll impact my schedule, so long as the millwrights continue to install the pumps and motors on the same schedule they have been."

"They will. But I'm making a leadership change."

Fear's icy sword sliced Sabrina to the very core. She'd come so far. To take it away now was worse than an insult. It was--it was--it was borderline betrayal. Every last dram of good cheer drained from her.

"I'm giving you instrumentation."

"What about electrical," she said. Her voice sounded wet. She was on the verge of tears.

"You misunderstand me, Ms. DeLane. I am not taking electrical away from you. I'm giving you more responsibility, not less."

Relief washed through Sabrina in a wave that left her feeling weak. "Oh, okay." She paused and then blurted, "What about Carl? Did he quit? Is he reporting to me? How's that supposed to work?"

"Carl and your compatriot, Ted, were not working out. They are no longer with us here in Cracker. P&C has also been sent home."

"Oh." Too many thoughts were tripping through Sabrina's brain. "Wasn't P&C wiring the instrumentation?"

"Blackwax's instrument department reports that nearly every P&C wired instrument, has to be re-wired."

"Shit." Sabrina slapped a hand over her mouth. She made wide eyes at Gordon praying he'd forgive her.

Mirth rumbled in Gordon's chest. "Yeah, shit. Anyhow, your electrical lead, Martin, and my I&E Department Supervisor, Alex, assure me that MIS can pick up the instrumentation slack."

This was getting away from her. Instrumentation was being handed to her at the eleventh hour. She had zero clues as to what was what and where they were. Yet, others were already making promises for her. She met this Alex, but didn't know him. Her job was rebuilding a refinery. His was keeping the still operating parts running. "I don't know that, sir."

Gordon granted her a quirky smile. "I just got done telling you to trust yourself, so, that's fair. I'll have Alex start feeding you the pertinent information. You can build your own schedule, come to your own conclusions. But Ms. DeLane, I need this refinery running."

"I know, sir, I'll do my best."

"I know you will. That's why you have the job." He got up to leave.

"Gordon?"

"Yes," he said, turning back towards Sabrina.

"I--uh--I'm trying to be honest here. I might not have actually managed to convince Carl we were through before I left Seattle."

No judgement, positive or negative, passed over Gordon's face. He merely nodded. "Understood."

"I--um--I'm in a relationship with Kyle Maurer."

Gordon nodded again. This time he smiled when he said, "Good to know."

The moment Gordon left her office, Sabrina jumped on the phone. "Kyle, where are you?" she said, excitement ringing in her voice, by way of greeting.

"Uh--Second and Main." The refinery roar in the background almost drowned out his words.

Okay, that didn't help her. The refinery named its various roads but she'd not bothered to learn them. There were like a million landmarks, many that she needed to know in order to do her job, so why couldn't people say they were by Substation 2 or Tank 296 or whatever. "I don't know where that is," she said into the receiver. The excitement in her voice had turned towards grouchy. She might be excited, but months with her nose to the millstone were taking its toll on her emotional wellbeing. Emotions spiked and crashed with minimal warning. Part of her knew she had the ability to choose her emotions, her response, to any input but that took vigilance, and work.

"Uh, just north of Tank 469."

"Okay, see you in a minute!" She was excited again.

"I'm walking back to the office, Bee."

"Not fast enough," she said and slid the receiver left.

Five minutes later Sabrina met Kyle half-way between their offices and the work site. They didn't have an approved work vehicle, and parking near the fire restoration site was problematic anyhow, so the two of them usually hoofed it when they couldn't catch a ride. It was good exercise and the walk usually gave Sabrina quiet time to mentally review and revise her work. At this moment, however, the five minutes it'd taken Sabrina to speed walk to Kyle had been an agonizing delay.

"Guess what?" she said by way of greeting. Sabrina didn't give Kyle a chance to answer. The news was too exciting, too explosive, she couldn't wait. She wanted to do a happy dance but she was afraid someone besides Kyle might see. "Gordon gave me instrumentation!"

Kyle's expression, which had a mix of joy and excitement upon seeing her, blanked. "Uh, okay. What about electrical?"

"I've got that too!" This was exciting. She was bouncing. Yeah, it'd be a lot of work. It had been a lot of work, but it'd paid off. Somebody had trusted her. She'd been recognized. Her career was finally taking off!

"They just fired P&C. Apparently they don't know how to wire instruments."

"I know. Gordon sent Carl and Ted home too."

Kyle ran a hand through his hair. It was getting long and kind of shaggy. Sabrina preferred the crew cut but she wasn't in a position to complain. She'd been overdue for an appointment at the salon before she came to Cracker. The barber in town was competent but didn't quite cut it, especially given that he was one man and he had more than a thousand customers right now. Her hair hadn't had so many split ends since she was a pre-teen.

Kyle started walking again. "Martin said that he's had..." Kyle snapped his fingers a few times, like he did when he was trying to remember something. "... that woman--uh--what's her name? The one with the 'Don't F with me hard hat.'"

"Brandi," Sabrina said with a sour note in her voice. Why wasn't Kyle excited for her?

"Yeah, Brandi. Martin said that he's had Brandi fixin' instrumentation errors sixteen hours a day, six days a week, for two weeks now and that he was going to have to find her help. Bee, instrumentation is a mess."

"So? It's a chance to prove myself--ourselves. You're with me, right?" She hated that she had to ask. She'd just assumed, but now she wasn't so sure. Kyle didn't sound very, with her, in the moment.

"Bee, you're already doing the work of three people. You've proven yourself."

Pain lanced Sabrina's heart. He'd not said, "I'm with you." Tears stung so she turned the hurt to indignation. Sabrina's next words came out with a hard edge. "The price of success is more work. You're with me, right?"

"Yes, I'm with you, Sabina, but you're being set up. Maybe not intentionally, but still."

"So someone tells me good job, can you help us out a little bit more and I'm being set up?"

"It's not just a little bit more!" He'd not shouted but frustration was evident in Kyle's tone. "Carl has been working on instrumentation for months. You can't do everything, Bee."

"You don't th--" Sabrina's voice cracked. This was too much like Brian refusing to send her to Cracker. "--ink I can do it?"

"I d--" Kyle snapped his mouth shut.

Sabrina's cheeks burnt so hot they stung. It felt as though shed been slapped. Kyle didn't think she could do it. He still didn't believe in her. "I wasn't trying to do it alone," she whispered. "I thought I had you."

***

"I do think you can do it." Sabrina had fled back to their shared office. It'd taken every dram of professionalism she possessed not to slam the door in Kyle's face. "I just don't think you should do it," he said. Still on his feet, he was towering above her while she sat ram-rod straight behind her desk. There was fire in his gaze and she could tell he wanted to say more--probably something about how she was an idiot girl for thinking she could do it.

Well eff that and eff him. She was going to do this. She was going to show him. Because, farts, the man she dragged to the altar was going to trust her. And no one--no one--was marrying Kyle Maurer but Sabrina DeLane!

Arrg! Sabrina dropped her elbows on either side of her computer keyboard and made fists in her hair. Kyle reached out like he was about to gather her into his arms but then his hands dropped to his sides. A defeated expression settled on his face. How could he be so incredible one moment and so aggravating the next?

Because he's exhausted. Because you're exhausted. Because you don't know what you're doing. Because instrumentation isn't your specialty. Because he's a ma--

"Shut up!" Sabrina snapped. Kyle reared back, but, miraculously, the hamster voice shut up.

Cycling a centering breath, Sabrina unlocked her computer. In the fifteen minutes since Three-Piece had left her office her inbox had been inundated with spread-sheets, diagrams, loop checks and so much more. Alex wasn't sending her information, he was data dumping. There were so many instrument loop diagrams the printer would be busy for more than an hour. Hopefully Gordon's comment that every instrument wired by P&C had been wired wrong at least meant all the materials were onsite, and installed, because, sharts, there were a lot of instruments.

Maybe Kyle hadn't been so wrong to hesitate.

"Shut up," Sabrina snapped at the hamster voice once more. Kyle, who'd started towards his chair, jerked to a halt and cast his eyes down.

"I didn't say anything." If depression had a sound, Kyle's words had possessed it.

"I was talking to the hamster," Sabrina grumbled.

After a moment's hesitation, Kyle quietly took his seat, facing, as always, towards the window and away from her. A yucky, almost grinding feeling, like shattered glass in a cement mixer, suffused Sabrina's chest. She wanted to, but wasn't quite ready to say she was sorry--not for taking the job--but for losing her cool--for failing to listen to his side of the argument. If she was going to marry him, and she was, she'd get down on her knee if she had to, she needed to give him the benefit of the doubt. Trust that he had her best interests in mind even when she didn't like how he expressed them.

God, she was going to marry him, wasn't she. She hadn't known that twenty minutes ago, but the knowledge was--liberating.

Sabrina twisted around to look at Kyle. He was trying to work, but was clearly struggling to focus. His profile looked pained and while he had to know she was looking his way, was studiously avoiding her gaze.

Farts.

Sabrina twisted back around to focus on her desk. She nibbled her lip. Kyle'd said he thought that she could do it just that she shouldn't. Maybe she could meet him half way--and ask for help. Perhaps that could be the beginning of, "I'm sorry." She picked up the phone.

"Watt Engineering, Brian Hayward speaking," rang out from the other end of the line by way of greeting.

"Hey boss, me, Sabrina."

Brian's voice lost some of its formality but none of its abrupt intonation. "What's up, Sabrina? How's it going?"

"I--uh--good. Mostly good, great even." Sabrina glanced at Kyle. He was not looking at her but all pretense of working had stopped. "Electrical is on schedule. Gordon--er--Blackwax management seems pleased with our progress."

"They just sent Ted home. I wasn't sure why you were keeping him so long in the first place."

"Er--"

"Speak up, Sabrina."

"I wasn't keeping him. I--he was doing--Actually, I don't know what he was doing or why BO kept him."

A sigh sounded from the other end of the line. "He told me he was working electrical."

"He was working instrumentation--I think--with--er--a guy I know--knew--from MMI, Inc."

"I see." There was a moment of silence. "Is there something I can do for you, Sabrina?"

"I--uh--" Why was asking for help so hard?

Because it's admitting failure. Because it was saying she couldn't do the job.

"Sabrina?"

"I need help," Sabrina blurted. There was a pause before Brian responded and she thought she heard him chuckle away from the receiver.

"With what, Ms. DeLane?"

Sabrina glanced at Kyle who was now watching her. She felt a little heat in her cheeks but resisted the urge to duck behind her tresses. This was her admitting she might've been wrong and trusting herself to fix it. "After Gordon kicked Ted and Carl--er--the guy from MMI--out, he gave me instrumentation. I understand the wiring... but there's taps and root valves and seals and crap. I could learn it, but I don't think I have time. Not right now."

"Okay." Brian's word came out slowly, like he was pondering the possibilities and not liking the answers. "I just sent Tyler to Texas and Matt's on vacation. I could send Ted back but if BO sent him home..."

"I want Joy."

There was another hesitation from the other end of the line. "Mrs. Hawthorn is a control engineer. She works out of Idaho, doesn't report to me and..."

Joy was six, almost seven, months pregnant by now. "I don't need her to fly out here and work fourteen--" Sabrina closed her eyes. Truth. She needed to trust herself and tell the truth. "--sixteen hour days. She can work from her home office. I just need her to organize stuff, tell me what to do, what to look for, track my progress."

A hand landed on her shoulder. She looked up. Kyle squeezed, a contrite expression scrawled across his face. "Our progress. I'm in this with you, Bee."

"Thank you," she mouthed. A tear sprang to her eye. She was right. She could do this. He was right. It was a lot to bite off at once.

Brian's voice came back across the line. "I'll call Henry, see if Joy's schedule can be opened to help you."

"Thank you."

"Talk later." Brian disconnected.

Beside her, Kyle ran a hand through his hair. "I'll buy some more sixteen gage."

"Why?" They hadn't needed to buy wire for weeks. Purchases had slowed to a trickle. Installation and QA/QC were the major endeavors at the moment.

"I'm guessing we might need it for instrument grounds."

Sabrina couldn't help the smile that exploded on her face.

It'll Be Your Fault

Kyle

Every muscle in Kyle's body hurt. It'd been two weeks since Sabrina had taken on instrumentation. Their twelve to fourteen hours days had ratcheted back up to sixteen, seventeen and even eighteen hour days. They had no time, no energy, for anything but work and sleep. It'd been three days since he'd showered. He was probably rank.

That hadn't stopped Sabrina from curling up tight to his side every night. She no longer made any pretense of trying to sleep on her side of the bed. She simply climbed into bed, wrapped her naked lithe body around him like he was a giant teddy bear and went to sleep. After their misunderstanding she'd stayed irritated for less than an hour. She'd brought in help and God was he grateful to her, to Brian and to her friend in Ketchum, Idaho. Even though remote, the woman had organized the instrumentation mess, educated them, directed their work and tracked their progress. Kyle couldn't have done it without Joy's help. He was glad that Sabrina had admitted that as well. When he'd apologized for his fear, she'd apologized for losing her cool. She'd said she was going to make a greater effort to trust that he had her best interests in mind even when she didn't like how he expressed them. He'd liked that insight, and vowed to do the same.

Kyle placed his elbows on either side of his keyboard and head in his hands. He zoned out listening to the clip-clop of cowboy boots, or maybe wedge heels, coming down the hall towards their office. It seemed only a moment, but when his head bounced off his keyboard he jolted awake.

A musical laugh sounded behind him. He twisted in his seat expecting to find Sabrina.

Instead of Sabrina, he found a woman in jeans and a plaid-maternity shirt. Her long straight hair was dark, her eyes blue and her smile so bright she glowed with more light than the high noon sun. She was also very, very pregnant.

Wait, was that possible? Pregnancy was discreet. A woman was either pregnant or not pregnant. "Very" was not a descriptor that fit. Yet this woman was, in time, much closer to the birthing event than the conception event.

"Hi," Kyle heard himself say. He sounded groggy.

"Hi," the woman said. Her smile grew impossibly brighter. If his heart hadn't been wholely owned by another, Kyle was certain this woman could've stolen it with just her smile. "Are you Kyle?"

"Yes." He turned his chair towards the woman. He knew he should've stood but his body protested it wasn't doing anything that it didn't absolutely have to. Something nagging at the back of his brain told him he knew who she was but his thoughts were too sluggish to place her. "May I help you?"

She stepped from the doorway and took one of the guest seats on the far side of Sabrina's desk. She winced and cradled the watermelon that was her belly. "Kyle, I'm Joy."

"Joy? The Joy?" Kyle blurted. He closed his eyes. He sounded like an idiot, but this was Sabrina's best friend. He'd wanted to meet her since the first time Sabrina had mentioned Joy's name in the car all those months ago. Since Joy had started helping them, albeit by phone, Sabrina hadn't been able to shut up about her once neighbor and best friend. Kyle would've bet his left kidney that despite Sabrina's infatuation with Christina Koch, Joy Hawthorn was her real hero.

It was not hard to see why. Joy radiated off of Joy. No one could fail but to respond to that.

Joy's smile turned up another megawatt. "Yes, I'm the Joy."

Kyle chuckled at himself.

"Actually, she calls me Sunshine--" Joy's smile slipped. The room darkened as though a cloud had slipped in front of the sun. "--even when I'm not."

"Does she have a name for everyone?"

"Yes, almost. If she particularly likes--or dislikes--you."

"I'm The Zit," Kyle groused. "She did not like me."

Joy's smile re-blossomed. "That's not all bad, Kyle."

"How you figure?"

"She needs someone that keeps showing up in her life, whether she wants it or not. She hides it well, even from herself, but Kyle, she's been in love with you since before I knew her. You're her constant. You're the person she can't shake. You're the person that won't stay out of her life. Kyle, you're the person she can count on to return. You have no idea how low she got when she thought you'd stepped out of her life for good. God--" Joy ran a hand through her tresses. "--she dated Carl."

"Yeah, how'd that happen anyway? She's so far out of his league she's like a Hall of Famer while he's still fumbling tee-ball."

Joy played with the hem of her maternity shirt. "I--uh--set them up." A sheepish look scrawled across her face. "Accidently! We were studying for our PEs. He was studying for his PE. It made sense to study together."

"Ah."

Joy blushed.

"Should I call Bee? She's out in the field. Loop checking instruments, I think. Thanks for all your help, by the way."

Joy blinded him with a smile. "You're welcome. But Bee is not who I want to talk to. Or, the only person I want to talk to. Since I was working with you and Bee, I accepted some DCS programming work out here as well. I need to get set up, input the mods and do a bit of testing. I should be on the road again the day after tomorrow. If I'm not, Henry will be pissed."

"Henry?"

Joy rolled her eyes. The action reminded Kyle of the woman that owned his heart. "Henry MacKay. My boss. He thinks I'll break."

"Not your husband?" He was pretty certain that Sabrina had said Joy was married. The sparkling aquamarine stone on her heart-finger wasn't a diamond but the glittering cascade of smaller rocks on the ring next to it sure looked like a wedding band.

"Cade loves me." A dreamy smile scrawled across Joy's face. "He never tries to prevent me from doing anything I want--even when it scares the shit out of him." Her features sharpened as though she'd returned from whatever fairy land her mind had jaunted off too. "Did Sabrina tell you that she checked out Cade before she permitted him to propose?"

"Er." What?

Joy struggled out of her chair. Kyle felt like schmuck for not jumping up to help her but she was standing before he could respond. "Sabrina is the best. She deserves the best. I like what I see--" She pointed two fingers at her eyes, at him and at her eyes again. "--but my eyes are on you, lover-boy."

Kyle gawked. "But you don't even know me," he said, when his wits returned.

"I know everything about you, Kyle." She smiled. Like always, it was bright but this time the light was accompanied by a hint of mischief. "We're having dinner at six. Don't let Bee lose track of the time. I'm only here for today and tomorrow. Bee will be bummed if she doesn't get to see me. I'll be bummed. You're a man. It'll be your fault." Joy stepped to the door, glanced down the hall and then back at him. "Now, which way to the lady's room? I need to pee."

***

Kyle lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Every last cell in his body was exhausted but he couldn't sleep. His woman wasn't velcroed to him. He, Joy and Sabrina had had dinner at the diner but after they'd finished Sabrina had gone to stay the night with Joy in her Little American hotel room. He missed her.

Which was a problem, because in four, maybe five, weeks they'd be on a plane back to Seattle, to their office, to their normal schedules, to their separate apartments and to their own beds. He was so tired. His body was desperate for a respite and yet...

Kyle was not ready for this to be over. He did not want to go back to their individual lives. He did not want to go back to only seeing her in the office. He didn't want to be in a place where he could only be social with her on dates, maybe once a week. He wanted to live and breathe Sabrina. He wanted to drown in her soulful burnt cinnamon eyes. He wanted to bask in her smile. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to be held by her. He needed to hear her cute little snore.

Every.

Single.

Day.

But he was a sailor on Lake Bonneville--landlocked with available water dwindling rapidly. Kyle rolled onto his shoulder and wrapped his arms about Sabrina's abandoned pillow. He forced his eyes closed.

He lost count of the sheep somewhere around ten-thousand. He rolled back onto his back. There was only one solution to his angst but he couldn't imagine Sabrina saying yes. Regardless of what Joy said, Sabrina had been pushing him away for more than half his life. She was dating him, she was making love to him but she couldn't possibly be ready for a life with him. Could she?

So what if they had great sex. And great dates. And great conversations. And worked well together.

Sometimes.

Kyle let out a humid, lead laden breath. He'd heard her all those times she'd said, "I l--" But the word love had never left her mouth. Her obvious struggle was why he hadn't said the same thing. He'd not told her he loved her, although he did. Of course she wasn't ready to be his wife.

The door downstairs rattled. The lock turned. The door opened and closed. Kyle was about to rise when the intruder kicked the coffee table in the dark.

"Ow. Farts. Ow." The intruder hopped a step. Kyle lay back. He'd have known Sabrina's voice anywhere.

"Hi," he said after she mounted the ladder.

"Hi"

All Kyle could see in the dark was her silhouette but the tone of her greeting sounded atypically shy. He rolled onto his shoulder to watch her strip out of her clothes and then grunted when she crawled over him while getting into bed. She pulled him onto his back, hooked a leg over his hip and banded an arm across his chest. Her breasts, warm and soft against his flesh, pressed into his left peck and ribs. She burrowed her face into the crook of his neck.

"We have to return Joy's car in the morning."

"'Kay."

"I couldn't sleep."

"Yeah--" He meant to say, "me too," but was interrupted by a yawn. A cutesy snore sounded in his ear a heartbeat later. Kyle got another yawn in before the sandman took him.

BLEVE

Sabrina

Cole thumbed over the instrument tag and squinted at the small print stamped into the metal. The instrument itself was a blue metal container no bigger than a nine-ounce peanut butter jar. Like a jar, it had a sealed lid. The LED display on its face jumped around in a meaningless spastic dance of numbers. Sabrina no longer had to guess as to what its problem was. The last seven instruments had suffered from ground looped instrument wire. This instrument displayed the same symptoms.

"02DP428," Cole read off the tag to Sabrina. She flipped through the mountain of instrument loops sheets she'd printed after being given the dregs of Carl's job. It took a moment to find the correct diagram.

"It feeds from the junction box over there," she said, pointing at an electrical cabinet mounted upon a structural column. "02JB009."

Cole strode over to the cabinet she indicated. Sabrina tried to twist off the instrument cover. Lids on peanut butter jars had nothing on Rosemount instruments. When she first touched it, a static snap hit her hard enough to make her fingers ache. She considered banging the lid with a crescent wrench in the same manner she would've used a butter knife on a recalcitrant jar, but the contents of an instrument tended to be more delicate than peanut butter. Gold diaphragms were finicky things.

Sabrina grit her teeth, pressed down and torqued the lid with all her might. The seal broke. Sabrina curled her fingers into the bruising pain that still ached in her palm. Once the pain had receded, she spun the lid the rest of the way open.

And was confused. The wiring made exactly zero sense and had apparently been accomplished by a four-year-old. What was intensely obvious was that the ground was missing. She gently prodded a wire out of the way in hopes of seeing the rest of what was going on. A minute crack sounded that Sabrina felt more than heard in the ninety plus decibel environment. A moment later there was a flash. The light was bright, blue and was gone the same moment Sabrina registered it, but it had raced across the ground like fire.

It was then that she noticed the smell. There were always smells. Hydrogen sulfide. Hydrocarbon. The perfume they put in propane. Amine. Catalyst dust. But this smell was sweet, and strong, and set off all kinds of alarm bells in Sabrina's brain now that she'd noticed it.

"Cole?" she called, looking up. Kyle was further down the pipe alley conversing with Martin. There was a sound, like someone gathering their breath and then a thud, so loud, Sabrina felt it in her chest. The sewer grates all hopped a finger-width or two in the air and clattered haphazardly back into their trough. Up and down the pump alley, all work ceased as a thousand men turned their wide eyed gaze upon the sewer. Ninety decibels had never sounded so silent.

A heartbeat. Fifty heartbeats. Two-hundred-fifty heartbeats galloped by. Eventually Sabrina had to breathe. Up and down the pump alley, men sagged, wiped their brows and shared a relieved smile with their neighbors. Sabrina's gaze sought out Kyle and when their eyes met, she felt an uneasy giggle burble in her throat.

Boom!

A two-hundred-fifty pound cast iron, manhole cover launched into the air. Flames raced up the sewer. A gout of fire climbed from a manhole somewhere deeper within the process unit. That manhole cover rocketed for the stars. The first manhole cover ricocheted and banged about the pipe rack like an errant bullet until it changed direction entirely and made meteorite tracks straight for the equipment pad.

And Kyle.

Kyle spun in a crazy pirouette as the iron disk clipped him and threw him across the pump alley.

Sabrina screamed. She scrambled over one pipe and under a second even before her abandoned engineering pad had a chance to hit the ground. Pain lanced up her knees when she hit the concrete beside him. Her fingers fluttered over Kyle's chest, needing to do something, needing to aid him, but not knowing what to do. His left shoulder didn't seem just broken, but shattered. Agony glazed Kyle's eyes, but he was conscious.

"Ow."

A wet laugh escaped Sabrina's throat. Kyle tried to rise but Sabrina only required a feather's weight to push him back down. Martin dropped to his knees beside them.

"We have to get him out of here!"

"He's hurt! We can't just mo--"

An air-raid styled fire siren went off not just drowning out words, but thoughts. Safety relief valves lifted and somewhere beyond the unit, the flare rumbled to life with a roar that rivaled a space shuttle launch. A three-hundred foot flame speared the sky. Martin's mouth was moving, but Sabrina could not hear him. Cole ran up on the other side of Kyle, and between them, they, as gently as possible, wrestled Kyle to his feet. He sicked-up with the pain and then hung limply between the two men. Cole, the bigger of the two, took most of Kyle's weight.

A black, acrid cloud rolled over them, obscuring vision and burning Sabrina's eyes. When it cleared, the flames were no longer confined to just the sewer. She ran ahead of the men, kicking debris from their path, and then, when she got too far ahead, she ran back, terrified. She felt so useless. So helpless. She wasn't needed and couldn't help them. Every nerve within her screamed to flee. But. She. Could. Not.

The air-raid siren wail cut off and recorded instructions bellowed from the horn at volume of a jet engine. Brandi, Martin's apprentice, ran up. He yelled at her to evacuate and to get help. Brandi fled and Sabrina wanted to follow her so bad that it hurt. The refinery groaned and creaked with the scream of expanding metal. Sabrina had never been so scared in her life.

The quartet staggered out of the pump alley onto one of the many roads that traversed the refinery. Nearly everyone had evacuated ahead of them. Fire monitors were remotely activated and a deluge of water went up in a hiss of steam. Fear had Sabrina dancing ahead of her companions and racing back once more.

"Go!" Cole bellowed at her.

"No!" she screamed, right back. Sabrina's phone vibrated. Glad for anything, absolutely anything, to distract her from her terror, she answered.

Even on speaker phone, with the volume fully pumped and the phone pressed to her ear she could barely hear the Emergency Responder on the other end of the line.

"DeLane, Mauer, Martin Mountain Industrial Services, Cole!" she yelled in response to the role call.

"Injuries?"

"What?"

"Injuries!"

"Kyle. Shoulder. Maybe ribs." God, she hoped he hadn't punctured a lung. The blood bubbling from his nose was not a good sign.

"Is he conscious?"

Sabrina dropped back beside Martin and looked up into Kyle's sagging face. He was making little effort to walk and had Martin and Cole not been dragging him, he'd have not been moving. Pain fogged his eyes, but when she shot him a terror filled, tear streaked smile, his gaze flicked her way and sharpened. His bloodied lips twitched, the barest ghost of a smile.

"Yes," Sabrina screamed into the mic of her phone.

"Location?"

"Main Street!" Now Sabrina knew why the company had named the roads. "At--at--" Sabrina glanced about, looking for a suitable landmark. "--across from the substation. Tank 469 is straight ahead."

Sabrina heard some gibberish from the other end of the line that she couldn't parse over the emergency's cacophony.

"What?"

"Sorry, just a moment!"

A splash sounded and Sabrina's attention jerked right. Flaming rain splattered the ground between them and the substation. Sabrina screamed when a soft-ball size globule of flaming oil hit the ground no more than a pace distant. Spitball droplets of fire struck all four of them. Fortunately, the FRC did its job and the fuel was consumed before it could burn through their jackets. Even Kyle tried to pick up his pace.

"Can you get to Third Street?" the Emergency Responder yelled through her phone.

"We're on Main," Sabrina sobbed.

"It's too dangerous to get that close!"

Sabrina glanced about, frantic. Main teed onto Second. They'd have to navigate Tank 469's containment area or go around. The tank was probably a million gallons and the containment around it was a big muddy basin bordered by dikes. Even with the pipe ditch barring the way between them and the dike, cutting across the containment area appeared the fastest route to Third. Sabrina's frantic gaze spotted an industrial grate, pedestrian bridge over the pipe ditch.

"I think so," she yelled into the receiver.

"Ten-four. Keep the line open." The speaker signed off but did not disconnect their call.

"Sabrina," Martin yelled, "you have to go!"

"No!" she cried, terror wracking her nerves, tears tracking down her face. "I'm staying with my team. They're picking us up on Third." She pointed to the far side of the tank containment area. "We're almost there."

"Sabrina," Martin said, softer. Still, she heard him.

"I can't leave him!"

Kyle lifted his head. His eyes were glassy and he could barely focus. "Go." The word came out on a bloody cough.

"K--"

A metal on metal squeal, like that of a braking rail car, cut through the dying refinery's roar. A balloon pop, only a million times louder, silenced the scream.

Blast furnace heat struck Sabrina with more force than Hurricane Katrina. She staggered forward only to find her feet were no longer on the ground. The pipe ditch passed below her. A grunt sounded as Martin hit the top of the dike and tumbled off like a wind-milling rag doll. Cole drew Kyle to himself and rolled to take their landing on his back. Sabrina slammed into the wall of Tank 469.

Sabrina fell back and face planted. She breathed mud, desperate for the air that'd vacated her lungs. She tried to push herself out of the puddle she'd landed in but her body wouldn't obey her brain's commands. Something deep inside laughed at the thought that that she'd survived a BLEVE only to drown in two inches of water. Peace stole over her. There was nothing left to fight.

"Bee." Her name was spoken at a whisper, but she still heard it.

Sabrina would've screamed if her lungs hadn't been as void as the vacuum of space. People needed her. Kyle needed her. With a will forged in steel, she forced her body to obey. Agony lanced up her right arm. Dimly, she registered it was fractured, maybe broken. She didn't care. Sabrina needed it and, damn it, her body was going to do as she demanded. She made it to her hands and knees. A long raspy wheeze rattled in her lungs as she sucked air.

The moment air expanded her chest, Sabrina scrambled on hands and knees to where Kyle lay, face up, in the mud. Cole was propped up against the dike. A jagged shard of metal pierced his side. Martin staggered in a drunken walk, holding one arm, towards them. Sabrina had eyes only for Kyle.

Who wasn't breathing. Whose pulse, she couldn't find. Whose left shoulder was shattered and who had at least three busted ribs. One of his lungs might've been punctured. Oh, God, Sabrina had no idea if she could do CPR under such conditions. Fingers trembling, Sabrina tried to place her folded hands on Kyle's sternum. Her right arm wailed in pain and refused to cooperate. She placed the heel of her left hand on his chest and leaned forward.

A shiver wracked Sabrina. She couldn't quite place her weight on her hand. She didn't know if she should do that. She didn't know if she could do that. Oh, holy God, what if she made his injuries worse? What if she killed him? What if he'd already left her?

"Kyle." His name was a sob at the back of her throat.

EMTs swarmed them. She was gently, but forcibly, pried away from Kyle. Someone tended her arm. Someone else checked her for a concussion. They wrapped her in a blanket. She was loaded in a van. Treated for shock.

Where was Kyle?

Does That Hurt?

Sabrina

The emergency responders unloaded Sabrina from the van on the backside of the refinery's fire station. Even there, the roar of the flare remained thunderous but the face of the building provided relief from the fire's thermal radiation. The refinery's one fire engine had vacated its bay and the free space had been hastily converted into a shelter for the injured. Three-Piece held court as incident commander in a windowed conference room off to the side of the engine house. Men, some full time fire fighters and others refinery personnel, rushed to do his bidding. Sabrina went up on tiptoes so as to spy Kyle in the ordered chaos but could not find him.

"Where's Kyle?"

An EMT pushed her down into a chair. He undid their hasty field binding and tested her arm. "Does that hurt?"

Sabrina hissed. "Ow! God, yes. Where's Kyle?"

Beside her Martin was receiving the same treatment although his arm was more obviously broken. Like Kyle, Cole was nowhere to be seen.

"I'm pretty sure your right ulna is fractured. Are you able to lift your arm like this?" The EMT made a pose.

Sabrina tried and bit aback an expletive. "Where's Kyle?" Pain was not the only thing making her words sharp.

"Being cared for," the EMT said, not really giving her query any attention. "We need an X-ray to be sure. The best I can do right now is immobilize your arm." He began work on a stick splint and sling.

Someone called, "Life Flight, ETA one minute!"

Sabrina sensed a shift in the chaos. The attention of those involved in tasks that didn't require their full focus shifted from the screens displaying aerial drone footage of the fire to the sagebrush strewn Wyoming steppe just beyond the employee parking lot. One of the refinery's "ambulance" vans pulled up there. Emergency responders threw open the van doors and unloaded a person on a stretcher. One of the responders ran some distance from the van and began waving an orange flag.

Panic surged through Sabrina. She stood. A sharp pain lanced through her arm.

The EMT shoved her back in her chair. "I'm not done."

"That's Kyle!" She couldn't actually see that it was Kyle, but she knew.

Her caretaker forced her arm back into the position he wanted it in and began binding it again. Sabrina's eyes teared with the pain. She tried to stand again. "I have to go to him!"

On to her, the EMT pushed her back into her seat before she could rise more than an inch. He resumed binding her arm. He was not very gentle. "They are taking the best care of him they are able, you'd only be in the way."

"But I love him!"

"That's obvious," the EMT groused. "I'm sure he knows," he continued more gently.

Across the way, tended by his own emergency responder, Martin watched her with sad understanding.

Tears slipped from Sabrina's eyes. "But I never told him." Her words were a whisper. She hiccupped.

The air began to throb. The Life Flight came in fast enough that when the rotor pitched for braking, the helicopter seemed as though it were a baseball player sliding into home base. A tsunami wind storm blasted a wave of dust across the plateau obscuring Sabrina's view. The blades didn't slow and the helicopter didn't even seem to settle on the ground, before it was rising in the air again.

"I didn't tell him." Her body shook with the effort to breathe around the sobs that were trying to overwhelm her. Black hole despair opened within Sabrina's chest and tried to swallow her soul whole.

Compassion filled the EMT's expression. "They're taking him to Evanston Regional. Once things are settled, you'll be going there as well."

She didn't say the words out loud, but what if he died--was dead. What if she'd killed him with the fire she'd started? What if she never saw her Zit again? What if she never got to tell him that she loved him? What if she'd insisted--insisted--that first time that instrument ground had to be installed? Sabrina knew the hamster hated her but in her fear for Kyle she couldn't help but listen to it. Tears soaked her cheeks.

"Ms. DeLane?"

Sabrina looked up. She hastily ran the sleeve of her uninjured arm over her face. The I&E foreman, Alex stood before her.

"We--I--need your help."

"My arm's broken." She didn't want to help. What help would a one armed Christina Koch wannabe be anyway?

"I need your brain." Alex looked to the EMT who'd just finished with her sling. "Can she help? I just need her to sit in a chair, read some prints and--" An abashed expression flooded his face. "--tell us what to do."

"Why?" Sabrina said. She still didn't want to help but the thought that others were looking to her for help, for her expertise, moved something deep within her.

"We need to isolate crap, for the firefighters. But we can't shut down the monitors and shit. You know the electrical system. I don't." Alex ran a hand through his hair. His tone sounded exasperated. "My focus has been on--other things." He turned to the EMT again. "Can she?"

The EMT studied her. "If she doesn't use her arm, isn't in too much pain and doesn't go into shock, yes. Yes, I think she's capable."

"But it's my fault Kyle--I knew the instruments needed grounded. I told Carl. I told--er--" She couldn't say "Three-Piece" but that was the only name coming to her. "--the plant manager. I knew it was the right thing. I didn't force it. I could've--I don't know--made a bigger stink."

"Sabrina," Martin said his voice somber, "you did your best. Now go do your best--again. You're needed."

"But I--"

"Trust yourself."

Trust herself? Trust the woman that hadn't said, "I love you?" Trust the woman that could've insisted they do the right thing, but hadn't? Trust the woman that'd probably killed the man she loved? She couldn't. Her eyes darted around in a panic. There were people everywhere. She just wanted a dark corner to go curl up in and die.

A gentle, heavy hand landed on her shoulder. Although muscular, Martin was short. Even seated she didn't have to crane her head much to look at the bearded man. "From day one, you've done your best. What more can anyone ask--or give? I trust you. My--your--people trust you. Kyle trusts you."

"He does?"

"He does. He trusts you to do your best--like you always have," he said with total, one-hundred percent conviction.

Her voice was small, and wavered, but in that moment it was her best. "Okay."

***

Sabrina glanced at the clock on the wall. Her phone had gone dead a long time ago. Her eyes swam and she could barely read the numbers. Her arm hurt. Her body hurt. Her butt hurt. Her head hurt.

Twenty hours. Twenty hours, her brain said. She'd been at this for twenty hours.

"I think we can power it if we close this switch here." "It" was the electric fire pump. Both power feeds had melted. A few hours prior, the impeller on the diesel fire pump had come apart. One flute had put a hole in the case. While the millwrights scrambled to replace the pump, the electricians had been running baloney wire across the ground in hopes of refeeding the electric fire pump. Unbeknownst to Sabrina, or the crews, her first choice power source had failed. Now she was flipping through prints looking for something physically close, could handle the load and was, hopefully, still capable of being turned on. "We might have to adjust the thermals on the breaker but the line should be able to handle it. Nothing else is supposed to be on."

"Okay," Alex said. He sounded as exhausted as she felt. He keyed up his hand held radio and relayed her thoughts to his team in the field.

A cheer went up outside the conference room. An emergency responder put his head inside the room.

"Fire's out."

At the head of the table Three-Piece--Gordon--God she needed to start using people's names--slumped. One of the HR ladies who'd been handling PR pillowed her head on the arms she'd crossed on the table and promptly fell asleep. A purchasing agent disconnected his phone as though he prayed he'd never have to field a call ever again. All about the room people sagged, scrubbed hands through their hair and yawned. Sabrina leaned back in her chair and flinched. Her butt really did hurt.

Gordon gave them two minutes. "Okay people. Fire's out. Good job. Now we need to make sure it doesn't reignite."

Twenty hours. She'd been at this twenty hours. She no longer remembered how many hours she'd been working before this catastrophe had started. Eight? Ten? How many more would it be before they were done?

Sabrina cracked a yawn. For a moment, her world swayed. She needed sleep, but she couldn't sleep. She couldn't sleep without Kyle. She wondered how far it was to Evanston. If she went twenty over, she wondered how long it'd take to drive.

But I Love Him

Sabrina

Sabrina closed her eyes for a moment. It felt really, really good to close her eyes. She swayed on her feet. She was so tired. Briefly she wondered if she could fall asleep like that, standing on her feet. Even the hamster sounded tired when it told her she'd probably fall over and fracture her other arm.

Alarmed, she pried her eyes open. The room seemed to spin. The counter, the computer and the nurse behind it kept wanting to shift to the left. Sabrina set her good hand on the counter to steady herself.

"What room is--" A yawn overtook Sabrina. "--Kyle Maurer in?"

"Ms. DeLane, I've already told you Mr. Maurer's guests are limited to family members."

"But I love him." She'd already told the nurse that, but she was too tired. She couldn't think of anything else. She'd been wrong. She was able to sleep without Kyle and had caught a nap on the drive to the hospital--fortunately one of the EMTs had been driving. Another waiting for the doctor. And yet another while her arm was being x-rayed. Her facture had been verified, she received a spiffy armbrace and a prescription for rest. The cat naps had her feeling worse than if she'd gotten no sleep at all.

"I am sorry, Ms. DeLane, but guests are limited to family."

"Can you at least tell me how he is doing?"

"I'm sorry, Ms. DeLane. I can't. You know that."

"What about his fiancée? What about her? Can she visit Kyle?"

"Are you Mr. Maurer's fiancée, Ms. DeLane?"

Sabrina closed her eyes. For a second it seemed as though her balance would desert her. Trust, she was supposed to trust. How could she learn to do it if she didn't practice? She opened her mouth to say she was Kyle's fiancée--and couldn't do it.

"No," she said and sagged. "I'm not. But I want to be. Does that count?"

The nurse sighed. "I'm sorry, Ms. DeLane, it does not. Hospital Policy and HIPPA make no allowances for wannabe fiancées."

Sabrina knew she should fight this--could fight this--if she could think clearly, but she couldn't. "I..."

Martin exited one of the adjoining halls and strode towards the counter. His arm had been fully broken and needed to be set. Unlike Sabrina, he had a permanent cast. He'd had an opportunity to sleep while Sabrina worked and it didn't look like he was as out of it as she felt.

"Hi"

Martin nodded and strode over to her. "Howdy"

"They won't let me see, Kyle."

"I'm sorry, Sabrina."

"I want to see Kyle." Sabrina knew she sounded like a child but her need to see Kyle was the only thing her brain had bandwidth for.

"I know you do," he said and led her towards the waiting area. They still had to wait for the others, and their driver. The moment the emergency had been declared over, she, Martin and two others had been loaded into a vehicle and driven to Evanston Regional. The drive had taken two hours.

"I saw Cole," Martin said. He scratched at the cast on his broken arm, frowned into his beard and turned his attention back to Sabrina. "He's banged up but he's gonna make it."

Martin's words brought Sabrina back from the sleepy void she'd fallen into the moment they sat down. "What? What did you say?"

"I saw Cole. He's pretty banged up. Needed sewn up. There was a tear in his side and a piece of angle iron in his shoulder. He said they had to scrub gravel out of his back. No broken bones though. That man's got more muscle than the Jolly Green Giant."

Something deep within Sabrina's soul laughed. It didn't make it out of her mouth. She was too tired.

"I want to see Cole." She'd have rather seen Kyle. Rising from her chair required herculean effort.

"Sabrina, you should rest."

Sabrina tried to lift an eyebrow. She wasn't sure she'd gotten it right. "In a hospital waiting room? That's, like, worse than no rest." Martin didn't argue and followed her to the counter.

The nurse looked up from her computer and sighed. "Hospital policy has not changed in the last two minutes, Ms. DeLane."

"I want to see Cole."

The nurse massaged her temples. "Cole who?"

Did she know Cole's last name? Had she ever known Cole's last name? "Um..."

"Hassou," Martin said.

"Yeah, Haso--er--what he said."

The nurse rolled her eyes but looked up Cole's information. He wasn't in intensive care and was allowed to have visitors. She supplied a room number and instructions. Sabrina realized that she could've just asked Martin, but, too late. Martin walked with her to the door. He passed when she suggested that he should join her. Something about too many visitors. Sabrina shrugged, knocked and entered.

"Who are you?" The speaker was as brunette with gray, almost silver, eyes. She'd been reading a college textbook but the moment she looked up at Sabrina swords flashed in her eyes. She scooched her chair an inch nearer to Cole. To get any closer, she'd have to climb in bed with him.

Cole chuckled and then flinched. "Ouch." The bed clothes were pulled up to his waist but other than the cotton bandages banded about his abdomen and shoulder his chest was bare. Surprise, surprise, the swarthy man was ripped. Acres upon acres of lick me muscle.

And Sabrina felt nothing. Cole was a friend. She thought about Kyle's chest--and abs--and arms--and dick--she clenched. Even exhausted, she clenched.

"Laura, Sabrina. Sabrina, Laura. Laura, Sabrina's my boss. Sabrina, Lau--"

"I thought that other guy--the one with the beard--was your boss." Laura's words were sharp. Her gaze was laser focused on Sabrina and Sabrina felt that maybe Laura wanted to dice her up and put her in a food processer.

"I'm sorry, Bee. Apparently dumping my ass has made Laura clingy."

"I am not." Laura didn't budge from Cole's side.

"Laura's your ex? The one you proposed to?" Sabrina said, intrigued despite herself. The woman was pretty, in her own way but not drop dead gorgeous. Sabrina had expected a super model.

"I'm his fiancée," the woman griped. She didn't sound happy.

"You are," Cole said. Laura's eyes, which had been shooting lasers at Sabrina, tripped to Cole. A heartbeat cycled and then joy lit her up like the rising sun. And Sabrina saw it. She'd been wrong. Laura was drop dead gorgeous.

Laura's gaze found its way back to Sabrina. She cringed and gifted Sabrina a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry. I--well--things have been rough. After we--after I screwed up." Cole squeezed Laura's hand and she looked down at him again. "And you're so pretty."

"She is," Cole said. "But you're--" Words seemed to escape him. Sabrina saw the same kind of love flooding from his eyes that she should've been drowning Kyle in. "--exquisite--spectacular--out of this world--my heart."

Laura beamed again and just like the first time, she lost all hints of plain Jane. The silver eyed, wavy haired brunette had a librarian look that some guys went nuts for. Sabrina could well imagine why Cole was taken by her.

They chatted for a bit about the job, about Cole's and Sabrina's roles, about Laura's dissertation and prayed for PhD. Sabrina filled Cole in on the fire. He showed her the nasty road rash on his back. Their dialog was interesting but after the fifth time Sabrina fell asleep mid-conversation, she excused herself.

Sabrina wobbled on her feet as she walked down the hall. She trailed a hand on the wall to keep from weaving. She flattened herself against it when a pair of orderlies brought a gurney down the hall past her.

Sabrina's heart stopped. Kyle's face was pale. His cheeks were shallow. His eyes shadowed. A cadaver might've looked healthy beside Kyle.

Sabrina's heart restarted. She chased after. A bouncer sized orderly restrained her while she clawed for the operation room doors, sobbing.

Waking Alone

Kyle

Kyle's awareness was blanketed in a deep, fuzzy, black. It was like a clammy wet blanket that pressed down on him. As his consciousness sharpened, he noted a burn in his lungs. He forced a breath. Pain sank daggers into his right shoulder and chest. He held off the next breath as long as he could, but when his lungs cried for air, his chest expanded again, and, again, his body screamed. Darkness beckoned but the image of Sabrina careening into a white, steel wall had him clawing up out of the depths of oblivion.

"Bee?"

Nothing. No response. No sound save an annoying rattle that might've been an air conditioner. Kyle woke. Confusion flooded him.

He was in a dimly lit room. On a bed. A ceiling he'd never seen stared down at him. There was a cold sting in his left wrist and an IV drip. His right side felt like it'd taken a beating from a sledge hammer. Someone lay to his right. He could feel her warmth, her naked flesh, but when he looked, he could not see her. Nor should there have been enough room in the hospital bed for another person.

"Bee?" he croaked. His throat felt like someone had polished it with sandpaper. His mouth tasted like mothballs. He tried to tongue the foulness away, but the astringent flavor persisted.

"Bee," he tried again.

No reply.

Ignoring the sharp throb in his shoulder, he forced his head right. Nothing. No one. His eyes confirmed it. Yet... he felt her.

Kyle tried to reach out with his right arm. Pain flared so sharp Kyle feared it might cauterize his soul. He gave up. She wasn't there.

But, she was.

Taking care not to rip the IV out, Kyle reached across his body to the warmth that rested beside him. His fingers found warm, naked flesh, confusing him further.

"Bee?"

Nothing.

The thing pressed up beside him was a limb, so he lifted it.

Shock slammed into Kyle with the force of a pile driver. He dropped his right arm. Its thud, against the bed reached his ears but no sensation, no touch, no texture but the mind lacerating pain in his shoulder reached his brain.

He couldn't feel his arm. He couldn't move his arm. He couldn't even wiggle his little finger. For all practical purposes, Kyle didn't have an arm.

Fear did cartwheels in his soul while the fingers of his left hand did a panicked fumble for the button that he hoped would call the nurse.

Your Best

Sabrina

Sabrina's desk phone was on its third chime before Sabrina reacted. She was back in Seattle, back in her Lynwood office, but she still felt off kilter. She went through her days in a daze. Brian had forced her to take two weeks comp time after Thanksgiving and she spent most of that time with her father in Eugene. It was good to be with the person that had stuck with her from the very beginning. But even with Dad, that sense of wholeness Kyle afforded her was missing.

Now, she'd been back in Seattle for a week, it was nearly Christmas and he was supposed to be with her. He was supposed to be working his butt off at a desk right behind her. He was supposed to be taking his meals with her. He was supposed to be making her bed. But... he was not.

And Sabrina had never felt so lonely in her life. Her Zit was gone and that just felt wrong.

And empty.

And terrifying.

Nothing she'd done to try and contact had Kyle had worked. He was not picking up his phone. She wasn't even getting voicemail. In Eugene, she'd faked an illness in order to visit Dr. Maurer's practice, but he'd been on personal leave. She admitted her duplicity to the nurse practitioner staffing in Dr. Maurer's absence. The man had taken pity on her and informed Sabrina that Dr. and Mrs. Maurer were pretty much living at the Evanston Regional Hospital. He did not know the status of their son. He did not hand out their contact information. She left her number with the practice and begged them to have Dr. Maurer, Mrs. Maurer, their son--anybody--call with news. Try as she might, the internet would not provide a working phone number for the doctor or his wife.

Sabrina had to twist in her seat to reach for the ringing desk phone. It was on her bad side and she was still in the splint. Her body, in sync with her mind, moved as though suspended in honey. She lifted the handset from the receiver on the sixth ring.

"Hello?" Her voice sounded hollow in her own ears.

"Sabrina, Brian. You have a moment? Would you come by my office, please?"

Sabrina glanced at her schedule. It was open. That was so weird. After months of being on the go every second of the day the concept of "free time" felt foreign. And empty. Oh God, the ache. Kyle, her heart screamed.

Sometimes she could still see the flames.

"I'll come down," she said in a voice with no more life than King Tut's mummy. She disconnected without saying, "Goodbye," collected her planner and trudged down the hall towards Brian's office.

Sabrina knew he wasn't there but she couldn't help the hope that Kyle had somehow snuck back to work without alerting her. As she passed his office she glanced within. The dark room looked as empty and cold as she felt. Had she really frog marched him down to Brian's office six months ago like he was the enemy? When she reached her destination, Brian waved her into his office and she sank into a chair across the desk from him without really looking at him or anything else.

Silence stretched a beat. Finally curious, Sabrina looked up.

Brian was studying her, a sour frown on his face. The hamster whispered something disheartening. Sabrina could not make herself care. Her eyes fell back down to the hands in her lap.

"You received your Wyoming, professional engineering license."

She knew. Big deal. Woo-hoo.

"The Chemical Safety Board is reviewing the incident at Blackwack Oil."

"Cool." There was no enthusiasm in the word. She knew that too.

"CSB wants to interview you."

"Okay." The word has as much flavor as bleached rice. A sleeping sloth would've displayed more enthusiasm than she.

Brian ran a hand through his hair. In that moment he looked older than his fifty plus years. Gone was the big, imposing boss man that had once controlled her future. In his place was just a man--a man concerned for a subordinate--a man concerned for a friend. Brian cycled a weary breath.

"There're two CSB investigators currently in Seattle. DC has requested that you meet with them."

The hamster was squeaking, a lot, trying to capture her attention. Fear began to bleed into the empty hole that was her heart. "When?" she heard herself say.

"They're on their way now."

"Am I in trouble?" Sabrina's voice was dull, uncaring, but the hamster was in a panic.

"The CSB only makes recommendations, Sabrina."

"But OSHA, NCEES, the State of Wyo--"

"Sabrina--" Her name, spoken in sharp tone, stopped her hamster in its tracks. It did a half revolution in its hamster wheel and fell out. "--did you do your best?"

"Well--" The rodent scrambled back into its wheel and began running again.

Concern, fear even, flit across Brian's countenance.

"--there was this whole thing with grounding and instrumentation and how it should be done and we argued and I lost but I was right and--" A sob escaped her. Maybe she deserved to go to jail. Criminal neglect. Maybe CSB would identify that. "--Kyle might be dead."

A tired smile smoothed the concern on Brian's face. "Kyle's not dead."

"He's not? Where is he? Are they allowing visitors? I need to go see him." Sabrina jumped up out of her seat, CSB forgotten, and fumbled for the Delta app on her phone.

"Sabrina!"

Sabrina stopped in her tracks, half way out the door. Her boss was back.

"He's not. I don't know. I wasn't told." A hint of mirth tinged his voice. "I'd buy you a plane ticket myself if I knew where to send you. All I know is that he's been transferred out of the ICU and expec to mostly recover."

"Mostly?" The word rose in a crescendo with her escalating fear. It felt like there was a fist inside her throat. It knot her esophagus. Blocked her air flow.

"Apparently some of his injuries will likely trouble him for life."

Guilt, already waiting in the wings, pounced on Sabrina. The shadowy clawed beasts pulled her deeper into the pit of despair. All light in her soul, had there ever been any, was beginning to feel like a dream. "What injuries?"

"Sabrina, sit."

She moved back to her seat.

"Sit."

She reluctantly sat.

"I don't know.

"Brian!"

Brian heaved a water weary sigh. "I don't. He didn't tell me. It's not life threatening. He's going to be well."

"You talked to him?"Every word came out louder than the last. Rage burned hotter than a petroleum bath. "I texted him and called him and left him messages like a million times!"

"I did. It was the hospital line. He lost his phone during the fire."

"Oh" The anger bled from her bones making her week. "Did he--did he ask about me?" Sabrina could not keep the tears from her voice.

"He did. Wanted to make sure you were okay."

"How come he hasn't called?"

"I can't answer that, Sabrina. But he did care. He was concerned, scared you were hurt, or worse."

Sabrina jumped to her feet again. "I need to go to him."

Brian's posture bowed under the weight of her declaration. His lips moved as her brain spun. "And I thought--" Sabrina didn't catch all his words. "--kill each other." Louder, he said, "You don't know where he's at."

"Evanston Regional."

"He's been transferred." Brian held up a hand as she opened her mouth. "I don't know where."

The gears in Sabrina's mind ground against one another. "Eugene," she finally said. "Sacred Heart. His Dad's a doctor." She moved to the door.

"Sabrina--" There was a pause. Brian continued in a less stern voice. "--CSB."

"I can't!" She slapped her good hand over her face and hid behind her notebook in order to hide the sheer horror that must've flooded her visage. She was not going to jail without seeing Kyle. They'd have to pry her away from his bedside. Sabrina swore it'd take more muscle than two Coles because she was never leaving her Zit's side ever again.

"Yes you can."

"But..."

"Sabrina, you're going to see Kyle again. Every day. He works here. He'll continue to work here until you either murder or marry." There was a pause and then Brian added, under his breath, "God help him, I hope that's what he wants."

"But what if I go to..." She couldn't finish the thought. Not out loud.

Brian must've read her mind. "You're not going to jail, Sabrina. You're not in trouble. You did your best. Trust."

"But the grounds. I should've fought harder. Said more. Raised it up the ladder. I--"

Brian rose from his chair so that he was again taller than she. He leaned against the filing cabinet. "I'm going to tell you something important, Ms. DeLane. Everyone is always doing their best. Ask any honest person who has lied."

"But--" Sabrina furrowed her brow as Brian's words sank in. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Yes it does. An honest person might wish they'd done better. An honest person might've done better one moment later. An honest person might've done better ten minutes before, but right in that moment, that moment when they lied, all their values and all their fears lined up and in that moment the best future they could predict required that they lie, so they lied. Everyone is always doing their best. You must trust that. You must trust you. You must trust that even when bad things happen, that even when the participants aren't proud of their actions, they are, and have been, doing their God honest best. Socrates argued that four-hundred and some years before Christ said, 'forgive.'"

"But what about--" Sabrina's tongue tied itself in a knot as a thousand objections tried to exit her mouth.

"Believe that, and forgiveness is easier. Of yourself. Of others." A notification dinged on his phone. Brian glanced at and said, "Now gather your courage, Sabrina, and trust yourself." He paused. "The CSB is here. I've booked you the Blue Conference Room."

Sabrina turned to meet her fate. Before she could exit his office, Brian stopped her.

"One more thing, Sabrina, you have nothing to fear. Trust yourself. Be honest. Many should find much to envy in your best. I know I do."

Beg

Kyle

"Again," the woman said. She was a young twenty something in spandex leggings and a sports bra. She was in her final year of earning her degree in Physical Therapy from the University of Oregon. She and Kyle were at one of the many gyms scattered about the university's campus. Kyle's mother had handpicked her as his workout therapist. Lindsey was pretty, smart, motivated, cheerful and hardworking. She'd already fended off two men wanting dates since they'd arrived at the gym.

Lindsey was not Sabrina.

Kyle tried to lift the pitiful two pound weight the way he'd been instructed. Staples and nails stabbed up his arm just curling his fingers around the grip. His arm flexed. A hiss of pain escaped his lips. Sweat dripped off his brow. The weight raised an inch.

"That's good--great! You're getting better," Lindsey said.

Kyle nearly sobbed with humiliation and failure. He could barely lift his arm. He had to use his left hand to lift his right, in order to place it on a keyboard. His pinkie and the finger next to it wouldn't work independent of each other when typing. Two minutes on a keyboard and his arm would ache so bad he'd have to stop for five minutes and massage it in order to get back to work for another minute. It was a struggle to write even two lines in response to an email. He was half a man.

A half a man too little for the woman who was his very life. A woman that deserved a whole man. A woman who deserved everything.

Sometimes he was desperate to call that woman. Let her care for him, baby him, lift him up. But that wasn't fair to her. He would not stand on Sabrina's shoulders.

And it wasn't like he could exactly call her. His phone was gone, lost somewhere, he didn't know. With it, his contacts were gone. He'd called WE, Brian, on the pretense of giving his employer an update and nearly asked for Sabrina's number, but at the last second, he'd thought better of it. Sabrina did not need to hear from him. She was better off moving on without his pain to anchor her down. Maybe he should call her and tell her to get with Cole. Sin was a whole man like Sabrina deserved.

"Hey now," Lindsey said. She twisted her head and bent so that she was looking up into his face. He was bowed over the workout bench he was seated upon. Her ponytailed blonde hair flopped over his knees. Her spring green eyes stared up at him. "None of that. You're getting better."

Kyle jerked away from her. His shoulder screamed, but, fuck that.

"Really!" Pain, the emotional kind, radiated from his chest but the words came out angry. "I can't lift a fuckin' paper weight."

Lindsey straightened. Her cheerful demeanor had fled. Concern and frustration warred in her expression. "And last week you couldn't lift your pinkie. You're getting better."

"Not better enough!"

"Kyle, these things take time." Too inexperienced with patients, exasperation rang in Lindsey's voice.

"It's never going to work right. You know that. I know that. The doctor knows that." He hid his face in his left hand. He would've preferred to hide his face in both hands but he couldn't fucking lift one of them.

Lindsey's posture softened. "But you still have it. From what you told me, you're lucky to be alive."

"Because of her."

"Who her? Sabrina?"

"Yes!" he nearly yelled. Lindsey knew all about Sabrina. Well, all he was willing to share. Lindsey should've been studying to be a psychologist, because, God, he'd dumped on her since he started working with her, first in the hospital and now as an outpatient. They were on campus, rather than the hospital because it was easier for her.

"Have you talked to her?"

"No"

"Have you at least called her?"

"No," he groaned. He started to say more.

"You asshole!" Kyle's head snapped up, as did the gaze of every patron in the gym. Lindsey had jumped to her feet and looked ready to tear his throat out. "Why the fuck not?"

"Look at me, Lindsey, I'm half a man! I can't even lift my fuckin' arm. I don't deserve her."

"You're right, you don't! But not because of your arm, but because you're a baby! She stood beside you when you could've died, when she could've died!"

"Lindsey, you don't get it. Her Dad lost his arm. She's had to take care--"

"So what? Haven't you ever been in love?" Lindsey's words burned his ears like white hot lava.

Kyle ran his good hand though his hair. He didn't understand why Lindsey was so upset. "Of course I have. That's why I can't--"

"Where did you say you worked again?" Lindsey anger hadn't cooled. The fire in her eyes might've been the real cause of global warming.

"Watt Engineering," he said, perplexed. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Lindsey didn't answer him. She'd fished her phone from the waistband of her leggings and was scrolling through Google listings. She found the number she wanted and hit dial.

What the fuck was she doing? "Lindsey?"

She turned her back. A moment later she said, into the receiver of her phone, "Yes, hi, I'm Lindsey Townsend. May I please speak to Sabrina--uh--Lane--er--DeLane, Sabrina DeLane." She paused. "Yes, I can hold." She rounded on Kyle and thrust her phone at him.

"Now beg!"

She's Perfect

Sabrina

Sabrina's phone rang. She cautiously reached for it. Christmas had come and gone. The New Year was yesterday. This was the first day she was out of her arm brace. Her arm felt weak, fragile, unlike her heart. Her heart was a ball of Novocain injected into the center of her chest. She'd stopped trying to find Kyle, because he was just gone. She'd stopped hoping he'd call, because he hadn't. Brian said he'd spoken to him but Sabrina honestly didn't know if Kyle was dead, comatose or just ghosting her. The CSB hadn't sent her to jail or even indicated fault. Blackwax Oil had specifically requested her for a second rebuild. She'd agreed. Brian had put his foot down, citing the need for sane work hours, recovery and rest.

Sabrina didn't need rest. She needed to die, because what was life if the man she'd thought would always come back--didn't? Kyle was Mom all over again--except way, way worse because not even Dad could ease the pain this time. Joy had tried to visit, but she was beyond the point where the airlines would let her fly. When Kyle returned to the office, if he returned to the office, she wondered if she'd even care because as far as she could tell her heart had checked out on hope, life, love. She wondered how God did it, because if this was what it felt like when one person turned their back on love, how could even God survive eight-and-a-half billion people doing the same?

"Hello?" she said into the receiver.

"Hi, I'm Lindsey." Despite the upbeat greeting, there was a hard edge to the voice of the woman on the other end of the line. She almost sounded angry, or disgusted, although Sabrina didn't think it was directed at her. "I'm Kyle Maurer's physical therapist. Your asshole boyfriend just told me he hasn't even spoken to you to let you know that he's still alive."

Sabrina's heart squeezed and the Novocain evaporated as though it had never been. A sob ripped from the depths of her soul. Fear. Hurt. Anger.

Amazing, bladder flooding, relief.

"Your asshat is sitting right here and if he doesn't take the phone right now and grovel I'm going to break his other shoulder."

"Where are you?"

"On campus. The UofO. Webfoot Crossfit."

Eugene. Not bothering to hang up, Sabrina dropped the phone. She could be in Eugene in a little under six hours.

If she didn't speed.

***

Sabrina set the cruise control at seven over. If she didn't, her lead foot would have her in jail now that traffic had finally let up.

It was dark. Winter. Raining. She'd been on the road for better than four hours. She'd hit the hour long straight stretch on Interstate-5 between Albany and Eugene. Sabrina itched to push her Ford Focus so hard the governor would kick in. She was angry enough she was of a mind to shatter Kyle's other arm. She didn't need to Google Dr. and Mrs. Maurer's house. She'd visited five times hoping to catch them at home when she'd been in Eugene with her father.

Forty-five minutes later--she'd not been able to keep her foot off the accelerator--she was passing Lane Community College on 30th Avenue. A minute after that she was turning up Spring Boulevard at the top of the ridge overlooking south Eugene and then onto Kimberly Drive. Her mind leapt to you-look-like-candy Kim. Maybe she should be calling her up. Maybe Kimberly would consent to being Sabrina's "forever man" because there was no way, no how the woman was as dumb as Sabrina's High School Valedictorian, four-point-oh college educated, passed his professional engineering exam on the first try genius.

Yet, you-look-like-candy wasn't for Sabrina. The Zit was.

Sabrina pulled up to the curb in front of a house perched on the side of the hill. There was a Mercedes in the drive that hadn't been present the previous five times she visited. A good omen. Lights were on inside.

Sabrina leapt from her car and ran across the wet yard to the porch. She hammered on the door. Somewhere inside, a conversation stopped. The energy within Sabrina's soul buzzed to an almost uncontainable level. Sabrina tried to tame the riot in her heart as footsteps approached on the other side of the door.

She failed.

"Where is he?" she said when the door opened. Her voice was loud, sharp and hard enough to pulverize granite. Sabrina pushed past a startled fifty something woman with the same brown-green eyes as Kyle. She saw the shoes by the door, and conscious that she'd just run across a wet yard in her flats, she kicked her shoes off.

A man, probably drawn by her voice, stepped into the entry hall, his expression dark. While shorter and older he looked so much like Kyle, Sabrina had zero doubt this man was Kyle's doctor dad.

"Young woman, you need to--"

"Where is he? Is my asshole boyfriend here?" She marched straight past Dr. Maurer deeper into the house. She passed a formal sitting room before the entry hall dumped her in a dining room. Clearly alerted to her arrival, Kyle was struggling to rise from the table when she marched in.

Sabrina's knees went weak. Kyle's shoulder and arm were immobilized with medical bindings. His face was painfully pale and the flesh of his shoulder, glimpsed through his open shirt, made a zombie look healthy. Sabrina had never seen someone so good looking in her life. Sabrina rounded the table and nearly threw herself in his arms. She stopped herself at the last possible second.

"You're alive," she gasped. A single sob escaped her lips.

"I'm alive." His voice was a horse croak. His gaze, bright, welcoming, excited when she first stormed in, dimmed. "Sabrina, I--"

"Why didn't you call me?" A rising, clawing, angry heat swelled within Sabrina that burnt through the wash of relief she'd felt when she'd first laid eyes on her Zit. "You're not in a hospital bed so you've been awake for a while!" She felt Dr. and Mrs. Maurer enter the room behind her. Kyle's eyes flit to them and he subtly shook his head.

"Sabrina, my arm is as good as gone."

"It's been so long. I was so scared! The last time I saw you, you were dying!"

Kyle ran his good hand, his left hand, through his hair. It was shorter than Sabrina'd last seen it. He'd obviously been healthy enough to get it cut. It looked good. He looked good. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, grip his head and pull his face down so she could lay kisses all over every square inch of his infuriating visage. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't break up. I thought maybe if we didn't talk you'd move on."

A banshee wail of terror cut through Sabrina. "What? What are you saying?"

"Sabrina, I'm half a man." Kyle's voice was subdued, mopey, defeated.

"You're not half a man."

Kyle shuffled his feet. "You deserve better."

"Why are you saying this?" Her voice warbled with the fear that clawed at her soul.

"I didn't want you to have to do your father all over again."

Fear morphed, anger blossomed. "My father? My father! You're not doing my father! You're doing my mother! I love'd her. She abandoned me!"

"Sabrina," Kyle said, sounding exasperated, "I have one arm!"

"So what? I love you!" Careful not to push too hard, Sabrina poked Kyle in the chest. A pained expression flit across his face. Like every time they came in contact, Sabrina's nerves sparked. "You are not your arm!"

"Your dad couldn't hold down a job. You had to take care of him."

"I did not have to take care of him!" She was screaming. "I helped because I love him! Just like he took care of me because he loves me." Tears streamed down her face. "I love you." Sabrina hiccupped.

"Sabrina, I don't want you to have to take care of m--"

"Why! I stood beside you in that horror of a fire. I want to take care of you!" Sabrina chocked on her emotions. "Oh God. I love you. I thought you loved me. Please, please, don't do this to me."

Kyle cast his eyes down. "Don't you see, Bee. It's because I love you, I can't do this to you. I'm half a man. You deserve more--someone who is whole."

"You are whole, Kyle. A whole asshole. Your body is just a canvas that the soul paints on. You are not your body the same way a canvas isn't a picture. You are here." She poked his forehead. "And here." She poked his sternum. "I love you. Not your stupid arm. Which, by the way, is still there! My father's was torn completely off. I still love him!"

"But it can't hold you."

"That's why you have--what was her name--Lindsey? I bet if you moped less and worked harder you'd be holding me before the year is out. What's a year, Kyle? You--we--waited nineteen. And who the eff cares, I'll be loving you the whole time even if it never gets better! So when you get your head out of your ass, find me!" Sabrina turned away from Kyle and stormed out of the room. Dr. and Mrs. Maurer stepped aside as she passed. "I case you forgot, I live in Seattle. My office is in the same building, the same hall, like five doors from yours! I'll be waiting. Because I love you!"

Sabrina slammed the front door in her wake. Right before it boomed closed she overheard the awed whisper of Mrs. Maurer.

"She's perfect."

Baby Sabrina

Sabrina

Baby Sabrina burbled. Sabrina gazed down upon the darling, blue eyed beauty and tickled the girl's belly. Little Sabrina waved her fists and blew a bubble. She was so cute!

Baby Sabrina had been born mid-January. Sabrina had booked a flight two seconds after Cade had given her the green light to visit. The man had made her wait three days--three whole days--but, okay, Joy needed rest and Sabrina didn't actually want to be in the way. At least she, Sabrina, got to visit--and help--before either of their parents. From what she understood, Joy's mother was pissed. But, oh-well. Joy was happy. Cade was happy. Little Sabrina was happy. That's what counted, right? Big Sabrina would've been ecstatic, if Kyle were here with her.

Little Sabrina made a cross eyed face. Sabrina threw a terry cloth over her shoulder and burped her namesake the way Joy had shown her. The rocking bounce on her toes was totally instinctive. Joy smiled at her. Even tired, the woman's smile radiated so much light it was more blinding than sunlight on the eight feet of snow outside their mountainside home.

"So why," Sabrina said, still bouncing, "Sabrina? I mean, I like it, love it, but..."

"You're questioning why'd I name my daughter after my BFF?"

"No. Yes." She was pleased. And honored. And just a little embarrassed that nine out of ten thoughts was about the man that wasn't with her and not the love she was surrounded by. "I mean that's not exactly normal BFF behavior--is it?"

Again, Joy gifted Sabrina a blinding smile. "Cade insisted."

He had? "He did? Why? I mean..." What did she mean?

"Because you saved us."

"I..." She hadn't. Not really. Maybe an itsy bitsy tiny weeny little bit. Cade was so there, so present for Joy. At the moment he was digging the snow out of the corral for the two fillies they housed in their heated barn. Even though they'd been Cade's first, Joy loved those horses. A balloon like emotion swelled in her chest. It made her lungs ache. Why wasn't Kyle there for her? He'd not said a word to her since she'd scolded him in her future mother-in-law's dining room. She was starting to wonder--maybe she'd been too hard on him? She kind of got it--the whole man had to provide thing. Society said that was how men were to say, "I love you." But Sabrina would accept his love any way he could give it--society be damned. She could provide, and, honestly, so could he. Why couldn't he see that?

"Joy..."

Joy's expression softened. Baby Sabrina made a sound that seemed too big for something so small and then spit up on Sabrina's shoulder. Sabrina's heart melted a little. She could see her own little Kyle--or Joy--on her shoulder. Joy held out her arms for her baby. Sabrina cleaned up. Watching Joy with Cade's child caused the knot in her heart to grow exponentially. Sabrina felt the shadows within her lengthen.

"He hasn't called you, has he?" Joy gifted Sabrina a compassionate expression as she bounced her baby.

"No." Sabrina turned so that Joy couldn't see the pained expression on her face. Outside the wall of glass that made up the downhill side of Joy and Cade's A-frame cabin, Sun Valley stretched in all of its snow bound glory.

"He will."

"He will?" Sabrina spun back to Joy. A desperate hope fired her pulse. It hurt almost as much as it enlivened. "How do you know?"

Joy cocked her head. A smile played on her lips. Then she shrugged. "He's your Zit. Those never go away." She shifted baby Sabrina in her arms and pointed to a red splotchy thing she'd gotten on the side of her nose due to her riotous hormones. "He'll be back. You'll see."

Sabrina dropped like a discarded sack of sand into what, Sabrina suspected, was Cade's chair. She placed her face in her hands. "God, I hope so." What a warped thing to wish for. Who wanted a zit? "Why is it taking so long?"

"It took me four months to get up the nerve to come home to Cade after I dumped him."

"Four months! I'll go insane. How did you do it? How did Cade do it?"

"I don't know. I was a fool--like Kyle's being right now. There were so many changes going on in my life I just kind of stayed busy... and cried myself to sleep every night. But Cade, his way was better." Joy nibbled on her lip. She cycled a sigh. "He loved me, the whole time, by letting me be--by giving me space. Isn't that what love is? Doesn't love free people to be who they want to be, even if who they think they want to be is a total fool?"

"I guess. I'm scared."

"Bee--" Joy waited. When Sabrina finally looked up, curious, Joy continued, "--so is he."

"Should I buy a ring and then somehow let him know? I mean, like Cade did for you?"

"I couldn't hurt. But to be honest, Bee, I didn't need the ring, I could've never stayed away. Sometimes I'm amazed I lasted four months. I met Kyle." Joy paused. She got that look Sabrina had seen when she was pondering some engineering problem. It'd gotten real familiar while they'd studied for their PEs. "Kyle won't last four months."

***

Sabrina stared up at the ceiling. Baby Sabrina had stopped crying the moment Mom had rooted her out of her crib. It was black in Sabrina's room. Sabrina did not know how much time had passed but she had the feeling that baby Sabrina's feeding had been some time ago. She did know how long she had not been able to sleep.

Sabrina rolled on her side and fished her phone from the nightstand. It proclaimed ten to four. Sabrina cycled a weary, weighty sigh. This was the worst time of day.

Ever since Cracker, she'd not been able to sleep after four-a. m. Not only had she programmed her body for a new wakeup time, she missed Kyle so, so much. She always missed Kyle. It was worse in the morning when her brain had nothing to do. Once upon a Disney she'd have worked on engineering problems. Now, Kyle this, Kyle that was a litany in her head and the hamster simply wouldn't shut up.

To compound her loneliness, her fingers could get her off but the best sex toy on the planet couldn't tame the way the space between her thighs ached for her man. That ache was so much more demanding in the morning when every dream, for the past five or six hours, had featured him. Him with her. Him in her. Him where he belonged.

Sabrina heaved another sigh and slipped out of bed. Careful to make as little noise as possible she wiggled into a pair of jeans and a blouse. It was too early for a bra. And there was zero need. Cade wouldn't've looked twice if she'd wandered around the place naked. He had eyes for one woman and one woman only. Sabrina was not her.

She left her room and, barefoot, padded down the stair. Like it did every time she glanced that way, the moonlit view outside the A-frame's plate glass wall took her breath away. Snow blanketed slopes fell away below he house. Stars glittered in the sky. Lights winked from the small town below. Mountains rose all around. Standing in front of the window she hugged herself and, like she did four million times per day, Sabrina wished Kyle were there to share the view, or absolutely anything, with her.

A quiet sob escaped her throat.

"Bee?"

Sabrina jumped. She bit off a yelp. She didn't want to wake the baby, but her heartrate had topped out somewhere around a million bps. It was taking its time coming back down. Sabrina turned towards Joy who was nestled upon the couch. She was cradling her child under her breast but it looked like baby Sabrina had fallen asleep.

"You startled me," Sabrina said, careful to keep her voice low. She was still shaking a little.

Even in the shadowed moonlight, Sabrina saw Joy blush. The fair skinned woman often turned crimson from even mild embarrassment. A sheepish expression scrawled itself across her face and she glanced down at her child. She clipped her nursing bra closed and pulled her safety orange tee shirt down. She cracked a yawn.

"Sorry, fell asleep." She shrugged in a way that emphasized the child cradled in her arms. "You okay?"

Sabrina crossed the room and sank to the couch beside Joy. She planted her face in her hands. "No."

Joy shifted on the couch and pulled Sabrina into a hug with her free arm. "Kyle?"

Sabrina bobbed her head in the affirmative. Joy's arm banded about her tighter.

"I don't know what to do." She didn't wail and she tried not to whine, but Sabrina wanted to do both.

"Have you texted him like a million times a day?"

Despite her tears, Sabrina snorted. She'd wanted to do that so bad, but she knew better. "Yes," she said to shut up her idiot BFF.

"Do you wear his shirt to bed?"

Sabrina side eyed Joy's tee shirt. Even in starlight, the safety orange material was really, to the third power, bright. It looked oddly right on the dark haired woman.

"I--I hadn't thought of that." She had all of Kyle clothes--all the clothes he'd brought to Cracker--except those he'd had on his back during the fire. Well, not here, but at home in her apartment.

Softer, more serious, Joy said, "Does he know you love him?"

Sabrina shifted, irritated. Joy knew this, she'd told her. "I only screamed it at him, Joy. In front of his parents." She was embarrassed about that, now. She'd have been mortified then if she'd not been so angry.

"Then all you can do is wait and trust. Trust your love. Trust his love. Trust yourself and trust that you did your best. If it doesn't work out, you still did your best. Trust that, no, know that. What more can you ask of yourself? And-- Joy paused for emphasis. "--know that you are loved. I love you, Bee."

Feeling ballooned within Sabrina's chest. It rose up. She couldn't stop it and her shoulders shook. She turned her head and buried her face into Joy's neck and sobbed.

Baby Sabrina woke. She took in Sabrina's ugly tears with her big blue eyes and then began to beat about with her arms and legs the way babies do. She grabbed a fistful of Sabrina's honey blonde hair. She tugged Sabrina's head closer and then, baby fists on either side of Sabrina's face, hugged Sabrina, cheek to tear drenched cheek.

Not Man Enough

Kyle

Kyle's brain didn't know if he should be relieved or disappointed. His heart knew. His heart definitely knew. Until this moment, he hadn't really known what pain was. Not even his shattered shoulder could compare to the ache in his heart.

He'd spent all weekend trying to steel himself for his work reunion with Sabrina. He'd imagined a million different scenarios. He'd given himself ten-thousand pep talks. He'd rearranged the words he wanted to say twenty-one-hundred times. He'd come into the office expecting the best, the worst, to be screamed at, to get fired.

He'd not expected Sabrina's absence. It was two in the afternoon and she'd not yet shown for work. Outlook gave him no clues, it claimed she was available. He'd come up with at least a hundred excuses to walk past her office. She'd been in the office Friday. He'd asked. Yet, the room no longer felt like her. Her presence was old--muted. Her energy was gone. That--that--was the worst. Until that moment, he'd thought he had time. Now he wasn't so sure.

Kyle lifted his arm off his keyboard and massaged it. Lindsey had been right. He was getting better. He could now, with effort, lift his right arm high enough to rest it on the keyboard without the need of his left hand. He could type for thirty minutes without the need for rest. He could even lift a five pound weight to the height of his chest--one rep only.

He could not lift his arm over his head. His shoulder simply wouldn't rotate that high. The doctor warned he might never be able to. Lindsey had said, "fuck that," and, Kyle suspected, so would Sabrina--if she'd been present.

Transferring his medical care up to the Mukilteo-Lynwood area north of Seattle had been a pain in the ass. His new doctor was more encouraging. His new physical therapist was more professional, but less effective.

Kyle picked up his phone. Watt Engineering had issued a new phone with his old number. The server had saved a hundred and thirty-seven texts from Sabrina--all dated more than a month ago. He'd read every last one of them--twenty times. He'd listened to all forty-two of her messages too. He got it. She'd been scared--really scared--for him. He'd been such an idiot.

He understood--now. For the fourth time that day, Kyle typed a text to Sabrina and deleted it. He owed her. She deserved a face-to-face.

A knock sounded on his door frame. When he looked up, Brian stepped in.

"How's the arm?"

Kyle lifted it. Pain shot through his shoulder but it was easy to ignore it. It hurt nowhere near as bad as the ache behind his sternum. If he could live with that, his arm could do anything. "Better, I guess. Still hurts."

Brian seated himself while Kyle had been speaking. "I can imagine. What can Watt do to help?"

Kyle shrugged. He suppressed his wince. "I'm not sure, Brian. My brain still works but typing requires effort. My fingers don't quite always do what I ask and my arm aches all the time. I get tired easy. I can't get through as much as I once had--yet. I'm adapting."

"That's good."

Kyle nodded. It didn't actually feel good. His arm back, the way it used to be, would've felt good. Sabrina back would've felt great.

"Where's Sabrina? I've not seen her all day. I--we--" Kyle fidgeted. "I need to talk to her. I kind of fucked up."

"I'll say." Brian reached over from where he was seated and swung the office door closed. Brian continued without giving Kyle a chance to interject. "Her friend had her baby. She took vacation." Brian gave him a hard look. "We need to talk."

Kyle felt a pit open in his stomach. Those words were never good, no matter who uttered them.

"Some of what I have to say is none of my business. Some of it is. I don't know how to separate the two. If you need HR here, I'll call them down."

The pit in his stomach tried to swallow his heart, but not even it could swallow the pain of losing Sabrina that dwelt there. Kyle shifted uncomfortably. "Am I in trouble?"

Brian quirked an eyebrow. "I'd say no, but you might think differently."

"Then no, I don't need HR."

"Good." Brian ran a hand through his hair. "I don't begrudge her, but Sabrina's friend had her baby at the worst time. I need to be having this conversation with Sabrina but I've got to make some decisions this week." Brian tapped his fingers against the chair's arm rest, giving the impression of a man trying to decide how much to say. "She doesn't know it, yet, but Sabrina has opportunities. You do too, by the way, once you're back on your feet. I need to know if I can make her your boss--or if I'll have to shuffle you two around. If that's all I had to do, I'd not have a problem, but other GMs, in other offices, have tagged Ms. DeLane for a variety of positions as well. She's got competition, but she's first choice on several GMs lists. Despite how it ended, BO heaped praise upon Sabrina--and you by extension. They were not shy about letting Watt know. Apparently they weren't clear what office you two had been working out of, so they called the CEO. Hector passed their words to every general manager in the company. BO weren't the only ones to call. MIS sang Ms. DeLane's praises too."

God, how had he ever doubted Sabrina's abilities, testosterone enriched environment or not? Hadn't he watched Sabrina his whole life? The woman always came out on top.

Then the rest of what Brian had said, sunk in. A yawning black hole opened in Kyle's soul. "Other offices?"

"Yes, other offices. Houston, Boise, Bismarck and Ketchum, although, I can't imagine wanting to winter in Bismarck. Negative forty is the very definition of cold."

"And how do I fit? I mean--what do you need to know?"

"You fit, because I'm greedy. I want Sabrina here. The job I have for her is your team lead. But if she wants that and you two are involved, I need to move you--until I have an opening for you too. If you two were still snipping at each other, it'd not be a problem, but I got the impression that's not true anymore. She was so desperate to see you I thought I was going to have to tie her down. Tell me you've talked to her."

"I..." Kyle shook his head, just slightly.

Brian squeezed his eyes closed. He seemed to age. Kyle thought he heard the word, "fuck," muttered under Brian's breath. "You know," he said, louder, "for someone so smart, you're dumb."

Kyle dropped his head. He had a million excuses, starting with, he'd been unconscious, lost her number, wasn't whole and had been so lost in his misery, he'd not considered hers. "She did talk to me. More like at me. She yelled."

"What did you do?"

Kyle bristled. "Why do you think it's my fault?" Kyle knew it was his fault, but Brian's words had the sting of carpet burn.

"Because the way that woman wanted to go to you, if it was her fault, she'd be sobbing at your feet, right now, her friend's baby or not, until you took her back."

"Shit."

"Yeah." Brian paused. "Can I give you some advice?"

Kyle hesitated a moment. He wanted advice. He needed advice. But society claimed that a man was supposed to be able to handle his woman--keep her in line. Asking for advice about his woman was akin to failing as a man. "Sure, I guess." He had to clear his throat to get the words out.

"When a woman like that wants to give you her heart, you don't say, 'no.' But we're way off topic. So?"

Kyle's heart wrung out like a sponge. The rope burn ache in his chest would not abate. Kyle dropped his gaze. "Yeah," he said, "it's going to be a problem. I mean, if she's my boss."

"Okay, I'll see what I can do." Brian stood. "I might need to shuffle personnel around." He strode to leave but stopped in the doorway. "Is it a problem because you're not man enough to work for a woman or because you're going to put a ring on her finger?"

He was not man enough. No man was man enough for Sabrina. To Brian, he said, "Option two--I hope." God, he hoped.

"I'll pray for you.

***

It took a good hour to track down Martin on his phone. It took even more time to find Cole. Cole was employed by one of MIS's sister companies which had complicated things. Fortunately, said company was local to Seattle. Kyle now sat in Sue's Bar praying Sin would show. The place had a casual blue-collar stop-in-on-the-way-home feel. They had their liquor license but there were a lot of driver safe drinks on tap as well. Sports paraphernalia, primarily Seahawks and Mariners, littered the walls. The Sounders were represented too. There was even a poster advertising WNBA Storm. Given that it was Monday, the number of customers suggested that Sue turned a good bit of business.

The bartender placed a bottle of Jack on the shelf across from him. She had a good bit of colorful ink peeking out from behind her black tank. She was muscled like a woman that spent time competing with men in the gym. She could probably bench press Kyle. He could clearly see the barbell studs in her nipples through her tank top. She turned to him. "You want another?" she said and waved a hand at his amber ale.

Kyle shook his head. "Perhaps a Coke." This late in the day the caffeine would do him zero favors but he already wasn't sleeping. He needed Sabrina in his bed before he'd be able to do that.

Cole entered the bar and dropped in the seat beside Kyle. "Sorry I'm late. 99's a parking-lot."

The bartender set a tonic and lime in front of Cole when she handed Kyle his Coke. "Thanks, Sue." Cole tipped his glass at the tattooed woman.

"You know this white collar?" she said, indicating Kyle. She said white collar like it was only one shade lighter than dirt.

Cole shot a cocky grin Kyle's direction. "Meh, he's not bad. We walked through hell together. Wouldn't want to do it again, but if I had to, I'd want him at my side. Him and his girl."

Kyle huddled over his drink. He'd put his right arm in a sling because it was just to hard to fight for function all day. "If she's still my girl."

"Yeah, you fucked that up good."

Sue crossed her arms and pitched a hip up against the counter behind her. "This ought to be good."

It was weird, the emotions that rolled through him. Jealousy. Loss. A desperate need to hear anything, absolutely anything about the woman he'd hurt. He wasn't happy with the audience, but what could he do? "You talked to her?"

"I have. She was pretty beat up. At first she thought you had died. When you were alive, but not talking to her, she wanted to die."

"Fuck" Kyle hadn't thought that it was possible for his heart to sink any lower, but it did. Silence greeted his exclamation. A beat passed. It was time to hand over his man-card and get advice. "What do I do?"

"What does every woman, every person, want?"

"I don't know." What would a woman like Sabrina need from a man like Kyle?

"She wants you to show up for her, Kyle. Every day, all the time, no matter what. She needs to know that you're on her side."

"I've always been on her side. Since the first day I met her, nineteen-years ago."

"Yeah, and how does she know that?"

Kyle didn't have an answer.

"Look, Kyle, this ain't Cracker where you two will be in each other's faces every single second. She's hurting right now, so you need to step up and be seen. Be available. Let her know that your heart is still hers. Help her out when she asks. She'll come to you."

"What if she tells me to fuck off?"

"Then you fuck off. Love does not force itself on people. But she won't, or if she does, she'll take it back. Just be steady, because a heart can only take so much whiplash."

Kyle contemplated Cole's words. He thought about all the times he'd failed Sabrina. When he'd not understood. Not supported. Not been there. "When did you get so wise?"

Sue shoved off the counter and headed down the bar to water one of her other customers. "Haven't you heard?" She said over her shoulder. "His ball and chain took him back."

"Yes--" Cole grinned from ear to ear. "Yes she did."

Opportunities

Sabrina

Sabrina turned off her alarm. Again, there'd been no need for it. It was ten-till-four and the fizzle between her thigh's informed her not only who had starred in her dreams but that they'd been entirely too vivid--again. She took a long shower, made eggs and bacon and still had time for her flat iron and makeup before she got in her car.

Ten miles an hour on the interstate was boring. The stoplights in Lynwood, uneventful. It gave her way too much time to think about Kyle.

Determined to avoid the insanity that was her brain, Sabrina buried herself in email and work. When she came up for air, she felt it, that weird feeling, that pressure. Kyle was in the office.

Sabrina cocked an ear to the voices in the hall. She did not hear that voice that made her heart race. But Kyle was in the office. She was sure of it.

She rose, smoothed down her pencil skirt and poked her head out her door. Tyler and Matt were chatting in the hall. Lloyd, her Team Lead, was in Brian's doorway. She counted doors until she was sure she knew which one was Kyle's but she couldn't tell if his office light was on.

She straightened her clothes, did a quick check in her selfie camera... and sat back down. She'd put herself out there, like, really out there. Oh-em-gee, she hated thinking like that, but it was his turn. No. No. She was not going to keep score. She'd go see him--just not right now. Yeah, that was it. She'd give him a little time to seek her out, and then if he didn't, she'd go looking.

She'd barely gotten back to work when Brian pinged her, asking her to come down to his office. Assuming he had another assignment for her, she gathered her notebook and strode for his office.

She stopped a pace beyond Kyle's office. It'd taken all her will not to look within, but she'd caught his visage from the corner of her eye. Her heart had not only expanded with joy, but done a happy dance that left her feeling weak kneed. She turned to go back, and Tyler, one of the other engineers, dodged one way and then another in order to step around her. In that brief moment, the joy in her heart plummeted.

What was she supposed to say? "Hi?" How lame. "How's your shoulder?" Equally lame. "I love you?" Utterly, one-hundred-percent desperate. Exactly the way she felt. "Please, please, please love me?" Yeah, desperate squared, not to mention, unprofessional. Not that her behavior around Kyle had been professional any time in the past several months. She'd happily be fired if it meant Kyle taking her back.

Sabrina tried to will herself forward. Somehow, saying, "hi," was harder than forcing herself out of the mud with a fractured arm. Her legs trembled and, farts, her palms were sweaty. She wiped them on her pencil skirt and then--

Brian was waiting.

She closed her eyes and her heart wrung itself out. Sabrina turned about and continued down the hall.

"Come in," Brian said, when she knocked. "Have a seat."

She sat, placing her notebook upon her lap and folding her hands atop it.

"How was your vacation?"

"Good." Sabrina granted Brian a smile she didn't entirely feel. She was usually better at picking her emotions but Kyle tied her heart in knots. "Thanks for having my car cleaned." She realized this morning that she'd not needed to use her lint brush once, not for cat hair, since returning to the Seattle area.

"Not a problem. And the baby? How's Joy's kid? Boy? Girl?"

"Girl. Joy named her after me." Those words came out with a note of excitement and her smile turned real--despite Kyle and his knot tying ways. Brian's smile answered her in kind.

"I should've hired that woman," he said.

"You'd've never kept her here. Sun Valley is where her man is."

Brian cycled a weary breath and slumped a little in his chair. "Yeah, all the good ones end up in Ketchum. It's kind of a problem."

"How so?"

"How are the rest of us General Managers supposed to put together a good team if Henry gets all the best?"

"Oh."

Brian sat up and pulled up something Sabrina couldn't see on his desktop computer. "First off, we didn't get the opportunity to do year end reviews. "I'm sure you've seen your bonus already but--"

"Yeah, thank you for that." Unexpected. Generous. Huge. "It was a nice Christmas gift."

"It was not a gift. You earned it. Also, given your performance accounting has approved an eight percent raise."

"Oh, wow." Thank you didn't seem like enough. "Thank you."

"Your welcome. You earned that as well."

Something pleasant swelled within Sabrina's chest.

"Now onto the real reason I called you down. The new year has kicked off a number of big projects around the company. General Managers in Houston, Bismarck, Boise and Ketchum are all looking for an experienced project lead. Also, your Team Leader, Lloyd is planning to retire in a few years. He has offered to step down in favor of young blood. He says he wouldn't mind having less responsibility in his twilight years."

Excitement stirred in Sabrina's chest. "Are you saying... that I..."

Brian removed his reading glasses and folded them on the desk. He caught Sabrina's eye. "You are first choice on every GMs list. If you want a job, you'll have to apply, but I'm pretty sure you'll get whatever you want. Your only real competition is a woman I've never met in our Bismarck office and a man out of our Smyrna Tennessee office. You're a shoe in for the position here, if you want it, you've got it."

Oh-em-gee! Sabrina wanted to happy dance in her seat. She was being recognized. This was the whole reason she'd taken the Cracker job in the first place. But then, her heart rolled over and a suck hole feeling filled her gut. "What about Kyle?"

"He'll have an opportunity for many of the same positions. He's placement is not as certain though, the Boise and Ketchum position are actually the same job, just different locations. As beautiful as it is, housing in Sun Valley can gobble up one's paycheck right quick. Not everyone wants to be house poor."

"Will Kyle be on my team if I take Lloyd's place?" She said the words slow, as though she were feeling each one out. They'd not just blurred, but completely ignored, the lines of professional and personal relationships in Cracker. She'd been wondering how things would work out here--if they got back together. The chasm between them seemed to be getting both wider and deeper. She assumed they'd be happily dating, maybe even engaged shortly after returning home. She had a sinking feeling the gulf between them might soon be insurmountable. Even if he got over his whole, "I'm not a whole man," hang-up their relationship prospects were suddenly looking bleak.

"If he doesn't end up with one of the other available positions, he'll be moved to Larry's Team."

Ugh. Sabrina wouldn't've wanted to be moved to Larry's Team. Roly-Poly was on Larry's Team. Or had been. She'd not seen Roly-Poly since Three-Piece had sent him home. Too bad she had seen Carl. She'd run into him at the the grocer's of all places. That was one store she was never returning to, but at least this time Carl seemed to have finally gotten it. She and he were over. Anyhow, Kyle'd probably fare better on Ted's team than she. Kyle wouldn't be accused of spending his time touching up his makeup so he'd probably have an easier time at it than she.

"And what are the other positions?"

"Team leads on various projects. Houston has some of the biggest oil refineries in the world. There's more than one multimillion dollar project going on there. Bismarck has a seventy-million dollar electrical upgrade at a refinery in Mandan--a suburb of Bismarck. The Idaho job, Boise or Ketchum, is a installing a new 435 kV line between Salt Lake City and the Grassland Substation in Montana. All three locations want a project lead with experience in the field and the office."

Sabrina dropped Brian's gaze. She fidgeted with the notebook in her lap. She wasn't sure she was ready to go back into an oil refinery but the 435 kV line sounded fun--but it'd take her away from Kyle. "Would I be able to pick my team?" she asked.

Brian scratched his neck. "Maybe, to an extent. That's something you should ask of your new boss should you go that route. But if you're asking if Kyle will be on your team..." Brian sighed. "... it seems unlikely that you'll both end up in the same office unless you make a coordinated effort to do so."

A coordinated effort? Like married? Engaged? Then they'd have to move both of them, right? Not necessarily. If they wanted to stay together they might have to sacrifice ideal career advancement opportunities for ideal relationship opportunities.

Farts. Suddenly the logistics of marriage and career were feeling problematic. "Oh," Sabrina said in a small voice. But was this really a problem? Did they have a relationship? Last time they'd talked, Kyle acted like it was over. She didn't like it, but she could feel herself giving up on Kyle. It felt hopeless. Maybe she should take the Ketchum job. Then she could live near one person she knew loved her. Sabrina didn't like the thought being even further away from Dad but being closer to Joy, Baby Sabrina, and, yeah, Cade too, sounded fab.

"Who do I talk to about the job in Ketchum?"

He answered. They chatted a little more. Her phone had pinged shortly after she'd sat down with Brian, so she checked it on the way out of his office.

Bite the Bullet

Kyle

Kyle massaged his shoulder. It was getting better. He could now work for an hour without significant pause. He owed Lindsey an apology, but nothing like the apology he owed Sabrina.

Two weeks had passed since he'd first arrived back in the office. Sabrina had returned from her vacation with Joy. Kyle couldn't describe how, but he felt her. He'd been in the office since seven, it was now pushing nine, but he'd not yet worked up the nerve to go down and see her. He didn't know how to approach the woman he loved, the woman he'd hurt.

If they hadn't been in the office, he could've gotten down on his knees and begged, but professions of undying love in the office felt beyond awkward. He didn't want to put her on the spot. He wanted Sabrina to feel the freedom to be uninhibited in her response--joyous or hurt. The strictures of work--and society in general--felt too stiff, too rigid for the love that needed to be expressed. In that way, Kyle missed Cracker where the only thing holding them back had been themselves.

The clip-clop of wedge heels approached Kyle's office. He stiffened, forcing his focus to his computer and the project map he was updating. He was not yet in the full swing of things. He hadn't been given any projects but was working on a number of tasks easing the workload of other engineers, where possible. He'd narrowed his focus so he didn't actually see Sabrina as she walked by but the sound of her heels halted. When he looked up, another engineer was doing this weird little dance outside his door. The engineer dodged right and then left before moving around an obstruction that Kyle couldn't see.

Kyle cycled a calming breath and held it. Fifteen, twenty, thirty seconds cycled on his clock and then Kyle heard Sabrina's heels once more--moving down the hall away from him. Kyle's heart sank into the pit of his stomach. He no longer knew how to approach Sabrina and, apparently, she no longer knew how to approach him. He needed to get her alone somewhere, outside the office, but how did he do that?

He pulled out his phone. It was time to bite the bullet. He needed to show up for her. He typed, "It's not the Two Buttes, but, Anthony's, for dinner? The Bat Cave, after?"

Tugging Hair

Sabrina

A supercarrier was parked half a mile off shore blotting out Sabrina's view with its gray steel hull. She'd been smart and worn flats. She was still in her skirt suit from work. They'd driven separately and Sabrina was still waiting for Kyle to arrive. She had little to do but contemplate the view of the great big sixty-eight painted on the side of the Nimitz. Yet, all the hundred million things the hamster was yammering about had nothing to do with war ships, power draw or nerd disciplines. It's every word had to do with Kyle. Not for the first time, she pretended to smooth down her skirt while drying the sweat from her palms.

"Hi"

Sabrina leapt in her seat. "Hi," she squeaked, craning her neck so she might look up at him. He looked pale. His right shoulder wasn't as square as it'd once been. He'd lost weight. There was a shadow on his jaw that matched the color of his dark chocolate hair. Her heart did a little flip. Oh-em-gee he was gorgeous. She ached to touch him. Hold him. Kiss him all over. She nearly lost the battle to retain her dignity.

"Mind if I sit?"

Sabrina waved at the seat across from her. "Of course, please." She wanted him to sit in the booth beside her so bad. He took the seat she'd waved at and her heart sank into cauldron that was stewing in her stomach. He'd taken the seat she'd given him and, farts, she wanted a do over.

"Sabrina, I..." He tried to meet her eyes, but couldn't. His gaze dropped to his hands. Before he could continue, the waiter interrupted to take their drink order. Eager for awkward to be over, Sabrina ordered her meal as well. She got the same grilled mahi-mahi dolphinfish every time she visited.

"So..." she said, when the waiter was gone. "How's the arm?"

A pained expression flit across Kyle's visage. "Better. I can curl a five pound weight now."

"That's good." There was the smallest note of excitement in her voice. Maybe he'd see he was whole with or without his arm. Maybe he'd come back to her. God, she needed him too.

Silence descended. Kyle played with his napkin. "Sabrina, I'm--" he said at the same time she blurted, "I've been given a chance at project lead in Ketchum."

"In Ketchum? Where Joy is?"

"Yes."

Silence again.

God, this was painful. "Kyle--" She found it difficult to hold back the sob that threatened when she said his name. He wasn't going to say it, she had to. "I don't want to be where you're not."

"Bee..." Sabrina heard so much pain, remorse and hope, desperate hope, when he spoke her name. She could've cried. She slid out of the booth and joined him on his side. Taking care not to aggravate his injury, she leaned in and kissed him before he could protest.

Kyle sighed into her mouth. She felt the tension bleed from him. He pulled back, his now brown, now green eyes scanning hers. Pain was etched into his expression. "Bee, I'm sorry. I was in such a dark place. I didn't think--I didn't think you'd want me like, like this." A tear tracked down his cheek. "I didn't want you to have to--"

Sabrina wove her fingers through his hair and interrupted him with another kiss. When they broke, when he tried to speak, she kissed him again. With every brush of their lips her heart soared higher.

"Bee, I don't deserve this--you. I don't deserve you."

She tasted him again and again and yet, again trying to drive the silly sentiment from his mind. "Kyle, you were always there with me," she said between kisses. "Now let me be here with you."

"What about Ketchum?"

"There'll be foundations and structures and earthquake zoning. If I can't bring a partner I trust, I'm not going."

Finally, finally Kyle put his good arm about her and pulled her tight against him. She used her fist in his hair to pull his face down towards her.

"There's just one thing," she said. She tugged him in for a quick kiss. "You are going to have put up with me--" She pulled his lips to hers once more. She could not keep the joy from her voice. She spoke into his mouth. "--always tugging your hair."

Epilog

Sabrina

Tap. Tap. Sabrina clicked her nail against the granite counter one last time.

"Kyle?" she called. He was in the next room. "What do you think?"

He joined her. His stare made a slow sweep of the room. When his gaze alit on her, there was a twinkle in his eye but his voice was flat. "It's a bathroom."

Okay, she admitted, it was a little dated but it had a walk in shower, a granite countertop, and a vanity that was ten times the size of the one in her Silver Lake apartment. It had drawers and counter space and cabinets. She'd actually have room for her stuff!

"Okay, stay with me a moment," she said. "Imagine this. It's warm and humid. I've just taken a shower. There's fog down to here." Sabrina waved her hand over her head to indicate a space a good six to eight inches from the ceiling. "I'm doing my hair, but I'm just in a towel." Kyle lifted a brow at her. "You walk in."

"Okay. What then?"

"We kiss of course."

A rumble of mirth sounds in Kyle chest. A warm fuzzy glow suffused Sabrina.

"Is that all?"

"Well, noooo. You turn me around and try to put a little baby Kyle or little baby Joy in me from behind, like I like, but you pull my hair, so I have to look in the mirror so you can see my face like you like."

"What if you close your eyes?" A crooked grin etched itself across Kyle's face.

Sabrina went up on her toes and gifted him a quick peck. "Then you're in the perfect position to spank me."

"Yeah?" Kyle stepped closer, slid a hand off her shoulder, down her arm and onto her rump. His other hand curled fingers in her long, honey blonde tresses. Had Sabrina not known what to look for, she would have missed the twinge of effort that action had cost him. She tilted her lips towards his. With the hand on her ass, he yanked her against him. Warmth unfurled in her core.

"I think we should take it for a test drive."

"Mrs. Maurer!" our real-estate agent, Kathrin exclaimed. I hadn't noticed her just beyond the doorway in the master bedroom.

"What?" Sabrina said, disentangling herself from her husband. "It's part of the master suite. The whole purpose for a master suite is to have some place to make babies." There was no way Kathrin didn't know this. She was forty-three and had three kids of her own--all of them girls. Poor woman.

Kathrin frowned, but Sabrina saw the twinkle in her eye and the effort it took to suppress her mirth. "But a house isn't a car. You don't get to test drive it."

"But how else will I know if I want it? It's close to work, check. Close to Joy, check. Lots of rooms for Kyle to hold me in, check. A place for Dad to stay when he visits until I convince him to move out here, check. So all that's left is for me to find out if it has a great baby making atmosphere. You want me to love the place we buy, don't you?"

Kathrin ran a hand over her face. It appeared that she was trying to hide her smile. "You still don't get to test drive it. We have five more houses to see. I need to pick up my girls at school at three-thirty. I'll see you in the car in two minutes." She walked away.

Sabrina waited a beat. "Is she gone?"

Kyle rolled his shoulders in a non-committal shrug. "No idea," he whispered back.

Sabrina chewed on her lip, contemplating. "Okay, I'm risking it." She hooked her thumbs up under her skirt of her sundress and pulled her panties down. She handed the wadded up ball to Kyle. "Put those in your pocket."

Kyle shook his head, but complied.

"You're going to have to be fast. I don't know if we'll have to test drive all the houses, but keep those, and be prepared. We don't have to like come every time but I need an idea of how it's going to feel. I mean, making babies should feel awesome, right?"

"You know, Bee, this is ridiculous. We'll be great together no matter what house we are in."

Sabrina smiled up at the love of her life. "I know, but I want this and you love me."

Kyle turned Sabrina around so she faced the counter. She gathered her skirt in a hand and bent over. He tugged her ponytail until their eyes met in the mirror.

"Yes, Bee, I do."