Starting With You

3. I'm sensing some saltiness.

Jensen

THE HARSH GLARE OF THE MORNING SUN peeking in through the blinds in my office irritates me as it glares off the computer monitor. I can barely make out the numbers on my screen. I turn the monitor at an angle away from the sun to see if that'll help. When it doesn't, I spin my office chair away from the desk, easing back against the worn leather headrest. Resting an ankle on the opposite knee, I squint through the open slats in the blinds to peer at the world outside my office window.

I hated Mondays less when they didn't involve paperwork, when I could actually be outside handling the hands-on stuff on the farm. This boring business side of the farm sounded cooler in theory than it is in practice. I miss getting my hands dirty, literally.

Before I can fall into my familiar musings, I spot two figures huddled in the grass just outside the staff room building a few feet away from my office. They both hold travel mugs in their hands, steam billowing out through the tops of their coffees, as if they had run into each other in the staff room and then walked outside together, pausing on the threshold before they go their separate ways.

Is that Teddy? I squint into the sun. When I can't make a positive identification, I scoot my chair closer, holding the cheap plastic slats of the blinds open enough to see the whole picture in front of me.

That sure as shit is my best friend out there talking to none other than that little fucker Jackson Olson. They're standing close with their bodies angled toward each other. I notice Teddy sweep a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, a sure-fire sign she's feeling awkward or nervous. Or possibly excited?

No, not excited. Definitely not excited. Right?

When I saw them at the bar together on Friday, I started to feel sweaty. I had to keep wiping my clammy palms on my jeans. I didn't like the way seeing them together made me feel. It was confusing. 

I kept trying to convince myself I was only being protective. I mean, how much do we know about this guy? He moved here only recently. Yeah, sure, I ran a background check before I hired him; and he seemed like a decent enough guy when I interviewed him. He came highly recommended and had plenty of experience. It was an easy decision to hire him, but now I'm questioning that call. Was my judgment somehow skewed?

That must be it. I'm just feeling protective of my best friend. I don't want her to get hurt. Maybe I should dig further into this guy. Make sure he was a good hire after all. You can never be too safe, right?

When I see Jackson reach out and grab her arm right above her elbow, I stand from my chair and pull the cord to open the blinds all the way. I stare daggers at the way his hand slowly moves its way down to her wrist and then back up again. Without thinking, I storm out of my office and eat up the space between us in a measly few steps. I stop abruptly in front of the duo, grunting my displeasure.

"Shouldn't you be working?" I address this solely to Jackson.

When he doesn't respond after a few beats, I shift closer to Teddy in the dewy grass, dislodging Jackson's hand on her arm in the process. I tap the place on my wrist that would house a watch if I wore one, which I don't. Jackson notes the gesture, nods once to me before turning his attention back to Teddy.

"Thanks for the coffee date." He smiles at her. "Maybe the next one can involve chairs. And an uninterrupted conversation." With that, he spins and takes off in the opposite direction.

"Date?" I demand, my body angled toward Teddy but my eyes still trailing the disappearing form of my new favorite enemy.

Teddy elbows me in the side. "Shut up. He was just being cheeky since we ran into each other in the staff room to grab our Monday morning pick-me-up. There was no real date."