Again, For Love

Chapter 1

So you’re going for the stalker approach, I see.

Lawson sighed and shifted his gaze to the table. Derrick was a jerk, but he was also right.

She just moved here from Washington.

Despite himself, Lawson raised an eyebrow and prompted for more information from his boss. Their boss. State or DC?

State. Some small town east of the Cascades. I don’t remember the name. Derrick took a big bite of his hamburger and only half chewed it before continuing. She attended Central Washington University, but didn’t graduate. She was going for a B.S. in Craft Brewing. That’s the main reason she got the job. She’s qualified. The fact that she’s smoking hot is just a bonus.

Lawson cringed. Pretty sure admitting that you find her attractive is verging on illegal, dude.

Derrick shrugged. "Probably. Hell, not finding you attractive could probably get me in trouble these days."

Lawson snorted. His gaze wandered to Jory one more time. He’d barely said three words to her in the few days she’d worked at the brewery. Her beauty intimidated him, making him stammer like a pubescent teen. He seemed to be the only one having that problem. She sat at a table with three guys from bottling and a girl from the office. The guys looked like total vultures, with beady eyes and hunching postures as if ready to pounce. But Jory appeared oblivious. She laughed at their stories and seemed to share her own.

Why the hell was he sitting with Derrick instead of at that table? He should have sat down with them when he came into the break room. It would’ve been natural. Instead, he slumped his big, bulky body into the corner like the stalker Derrick accused him of being. The light that glinted off her auburn waves when she tossed her head back to laugh made his fingers itch. The long line of her neck taunted him: I know you want to taste me.

Curling his hands into fists, he tipped his head forward so that his chin length hair made a curtain between them and focused on his plate of food, deciding to finish his lunch fast and get the hell back to work.

Derrick took a healthy swig of his beer and slammed the pint down on the table with determination. I’m gonna ask her out.

Lawson’s throat went dry, and he almost choked. He forced his bite of food down before replying. You can’t, dude. You’re her boss. You can’t date her.

We just won’t tell anyone.

You just told me.

Are you gonna run to the big wigs and tell them?

Well, no. But… He wanted to come up with a compelling argument against Derrick asking Jory out. Derrick was good looking and made more money, and he had some weird charm that girls seemed to fall for all the time. If the risk of losing his job wasn’t threat enough, Lawson was screwed. Dude, I’d hate to see you go.

Derrick laughed. I guess it would be pretty stupid of me to put my job in jeopardy. It’s a sweet gig.

Lawson nodded, hopeful.

Maybe I’ll fire her.

Lawson shook his head and changed the subject, nodding toward Derrick’s half empty pint. Is that the new experimental?

Derrick nodded and lifted the pint so the beer inside caught the light. Yeah, we just loaded it into the employee taproom this morning. You should draw a pint.

The color’s great. Golden with just enough orange to make it look like a substantial beer.

Derrick laughed. Just because you have a thing against pilsners doesn’t make this beer better.

The fact that it isn’t a pilsner already makes that beer better.

Draw a pint, Derrick suggested again.

Nah. I’ll get one after work, when I have time to enjoy it.

Derrick rolled his eyes and swigged down the last of his. Right. Time to get back to work.

Lawson stole a glance at Jory’s table as he bussed his dishes, but she’d already slipped out of the room. He mentally scolded himself for looking, and tried to put her out of his mind. In the three days she’d worked for the brewery, it hadn’t worked yet.

Chapter 2

Lawson shouldered through the front door of his apartment, cussing under his breath at how the door stuck tight when it rained even though it was inside the building. Useless property managers. He stamped his sodden feet on the tile entry, leaving fresh muddy prints on top of older ones. They really should sweep and mop, but probably not until this bout of rain finished. What they really needed was a mat to wipe their feet on. Yeah, that would never happen. Unless Terk’s mom gave them one. She constantly showed up with useful gifts like that.

The subject of Lawson’s thoughts—Terk, not his mom—was hunched predictably over his keyboard at the card table they called a dining room table. They’d only officially dined at it once, when they invited their families over for Thanksgiving—it had been a total joke of a meal, but fun regardless.

He greeted Terk, slapping him on the back of his head as he passed. The strike barely caught him, though, as he jerked forward to read something on his screen. Earth to Terk.

What the f..? Terk whispered, the screen reflected in his glasses, his lips pursed. He looked down at an item sitting next to his keyboard, glaring at it with his mouth hanging open, then jumped in his seat and squeaked, Whoa!

You need to lay off the caffeine, dude. Lawson tossed his keys onto the counter, checked his watch, and strolled into the kitchen.

When Terk finally looked at Lawson, who was digging around in the fridge hoping to find one last beer, his eyes were wide behind his glasses and shone with wonder.

I did it, Terk whispered, picking up the empty toothpaste holder, which usually sat in their bathroom. The thing was crusted with dried toothpaste, and Lawson couldn’t help but wonder why his roomie seemed to be playing with it like a toddler plays with Hot Wheels. I fucking did it.

Lawson found a single bottle stashed behind an expired gallon of milk. Did what? Twisting off the cap and tossing it into the sink, he leaned against the end of the counter and studied his roommate. Something about the light in Terk’s eyes was off. Like his lifetime friend was perched on the edge of crazy and the water looked fine. Why the hell are you practically making love to our toothpaste holder? And why is there a big black X on it?

Terk waved the crusty ceramic container at him. I sent this through time.

Lawson squinted between the container and his roommate. Are you shitting me?

I fucking sent this from the future. Terk carefully set the holder onto the table again as if afraid he would hurl it against the wall in his excitement. He shoved his shaking hands into his hair, creating the hairstyle that gave him his nickname way back in fifth or sixth grade when Lawson realized with his hair standing up he looked like Tarzan’s gorilla friend.

Terk got up and paced the small living room. Oh my God. That means I’ve figured it out. Well, I will figure it out at some point. What is the missing key? What do I know then that I don’t know now?

Lawson stared at the holder while his roommate mumbled his crazy talk. He never expected Terk to actually figure out time travel. He asked cautiously, You mean that thing—what—just popped into being?

No, it’s not like that. I don’t think.

What do mean, you don’t think? Lawson laughed derisively. You did it!

I did it in the future. Terk stood in the middle of the living room, his small body drowning in his baggy sweatpants and stretched out t-shirt. In this time—right now—I haven’t figured it out yet. I’m close, though. I was working with the holder, trying to project it into the past when an email popped up on my screen.

His roommate paced again, running his hands through his hair until there was a perfect wave of crazy cresting over his forehead. Lawson downed the second half of his beer. Who was the email from?

Me! I sent myself an email telling me to watch the holder. I looked just in time to see that big X appear on it. Terk suddenly stopped and pounded his hands onto the top of the coffee table like a warrior would a war drum. Laws, I fucking did it!

Yeah, I’m sorry to have to spoil this victory dance and all, but I don’t understand why you think you’ve done anything.

The X. I put that on in the future and then sent that version of the holder to the past. To right now. He gestured emphatically toward the item sitting innocently on the card table. Obviously, I knew I was working with the holder by now, so I knew I could send it back and see the difference. The X. God, I’m brilliant.

Lawson had a headache. He’d been listening to Terk rant about time travel for at least a dozen years and he still did not understand the concept, or even the allure, for that matter.

Can’t you just look at the email to see when you’ve figured it out?

Terk stared at his computer, considering. Then he walked slowly across the room and bent forward to squint at the email still pulled up on the screen. No, it’s time stamped for the time I got it.

He slapped his thighs and dropped his head like he was trying to avoid passing out. Of course! If I time stamp it for the past, it will appear in my mail program at that time.

Can’t you send your future self an email and ask how the hell you figured it out? Lawson’s mind was about to implode from trying to keep up with all the versions of Terk and that damned toothpaste holder.

No, the email system won’t let you future date. I might be able to…well, anyway, right now all I care about is that I flipping did it.

You’re not gonna send yourself back in time as a guinea pig or anything, are you?

Terk snorted. I don’t know. You’ll have to ask me that in the future, when I actually figure this stuff out.

Lawson shook his head and spun toward the kitchen to get another beer. Remembering there were none, his shoulders hunched. Let’s walk down to the pub to celebrate. And to nurse my throbbing brain.

Okay! Terk bounded to the door.

Dude. Lawson shook his head. Change first.

Terk looked down at himself. Oh yeah. Actually, I’ll grab a quick shower, too. It’s been a couple days.

You’re so obsessed.

It’s obviously fucking worth it. Terk bounced into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Chapter 3

Jory wore a simple V-neck t-shirt in a reddish-purple color that made her hair look more red than brown. Her green eyes shone brighter because of it, and her form fitting jeans did great things for her figure.

Lawson forced his attention back to Derrick at the front of the room, who was giving the morning pep talk and preparing to lead them through their morning stretching exercises. He had a feeling that if he watched Jory stretch, he’d probably embarrass himself in his own tight jeans. What am I? Fifteen? Pathetic.

When they finally filed out of the room to start the workday, Lawson ignored his adolescent nerves and worked his way next to her. So, how do you like our little town?

She blinked up at him as if he were speaking an alien tongue.

You’re new here, right? Even as he offered a tentative smile, the little bit of confidence he’d drummed up waned. He might not make the money Derrick made, but he was better looking and more fun. Not that Jory knew that, yet.

She reached up and took something out of her ear. I’m sorry. Are you talking to me?

Earplugs. She must be working bottling today. His smile turned genuine, and he was about to repeat his question when someone else called to her.

Jory, we’ve got a shipment going out in under two hours. We’ve got to get started now.

Sorry, she said. Duty calls.

Uh, good luck, Lawson responded, then felt stupid for saying it. It was a job, not a competition. He watched her scurry off in the opposite direction, vowing to try again at lunch if he saw her.

Turning a corner, he almost ran into Willa. Her eyes immediately sparked with pleasure, and he swore her hips gyrated in some furtive hypnotic way even when she stood still.

Hey, Lawson, she purred.

She was attractive enough, but way too desperate. How’s it going?

He zigged to move around her, but she somehow slid into his path without having appeared to move. She was the stealthiest person he’d ever known.

Are you going to Toby’s going away party? she asked.

Yeah, probably.

Can I bum a ride? When he narrowed his eyes, she offered an excuse. My car’s in the shop.

I’m taking someone already. And a third party would be… He shrugged. Weird. He had no idea where that lie came from, but it was a really good idea.

Willa’s eyes grew stormy. Her desperation creeped him out. I guess I’ll see you there, then.

He walked backward down the hallway and offered one last suggestion. Try Zeke. He’s always in for a party.

* * * *

Lawson had a similar run-in with Jory later in the day. He spotted her on the far end of the hall, walking in his direction. The sway in her stride was mesmerizing. She was absorbed in reading some sort of document and hadn’t seen him yet. He was so enthralled with watching her he almost let her pass without saying anything. But he’d been waiting for an opportunity like this, and wasn’t about to let it slip away.