Tommy Sallow is onto better and brighter things. After working a small hometown beat in upstate New York, he's finally in sunny California. As expected, it's the same shit in a different town. Except, you know, now he's near the ocean and miserable...
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"Okay, your turn. Get over here."
Amber's eyes are wide in disbelief as they slide up and down the power saw I'm holding in my hand. Her head shakes just slightly and the straw in her mouth falls to the side. She doesn't move a muscle from where she's been perched in the center of the half-built playhouse, sitting with her legs crossed and sipping on lemonade like she's royalty.
She does deserve a break, to be honest. She just built two entire side walls of this thing because once she got the hang of the electric screwdriver, she was unstoppable. But this is the fun part. It's time to cut the windows out and I don't want her to miss the chance at using this saw, not when I know how fucking hot she looks with power tools in her hands. It doesn't help either that she's got short shorts on and a tank top, hair up in a ponytail.
That damn ponytail. Fuck.
She always wore her hair back in a braid before but now, she wears it down most of the time. It was cascading down her back in a pile of loose curls at the construction warehouse earlier when we were picking up supplies and it kept whipping around in the wind while we loaded up the truck. She looked beautiful, as always. Almost made me wish she'd keep it down the rest of the day, even if it was unrealistic to expect that when we were about to go into project mode.
But then, well... I got to watch her pull it all up into that ponytail and I'm not even gonna try and deny the filthy thoughts that skated straight through my head while she held eye contact with me and smiled as she gathered the long tresses away from her face.
My mind was in the gutter, it still is. I think I just live here now. It almost looked innocent on her part but I'm actually starting to believe she's in the gutter with me. You could cut the sexual tension between us with this fucking power saw.
"Tommy," she drawls humorously, gesturing to the playhouse walls around her. "I just built this. I thought you said I could have a break."
"Break time's over, lemonade queen. I want you to use this thing." What I actually mean is that I want to see her use this thing. But we'll leave that part out.
She comes to her feet, a little reluctantly as she continues to eyeball the saw's jagged blade and approaches me with caution. "I can't use that," she states warily, shaking her fingers at me like she's doing jazz hands. "I happen to like having all of my fingers."
I can't help laughing. "I won't let anything happen to your fingers, Amber. But this is actually fun. So come here."
As she makes her way to me, I set the saw down and she faces me, eyes shining with curiosity as she waits for my instruction. I reach for the spare dust mask I have in my pocket and adjust it over her face, sad to see her lips disappear behind the papery fabric.
I grab the saw again, pointing out the different parts and explaining how to use it. Amber's head tilts in concentration, scanning the tool carefully as she listens to me.
