Page 193 of What We Brave
"I slept all afternoon."
"You needmoresleep."
He's not wrong. But I just shrug, noncommittal. "Maybe."
Blake studies my face for a moment, and I see him decide not to push. He kisses me instead—soft, sweet, tasting faintly of sawdust.
"Go keep Reid company. I'll be in later."
"Okay." I steal one more kiss before pulling away. "Don't work too hard."
"Never."
The walk back to the house is short, but I take my time, breathing in the cool evening air. Stars are starting to emerge overhead. Somewhere in the trees, an owl calls.
Reid's finishing up the dishes when I come in, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a dish towel slung over his shoulder. He looks offensively good doing something so mundane.
"Blake eat?"
"He's working through it as we speak." I hop up onto the counter next to the sink, stealing the dish towel to dry the pot he's just rinsed. "He said he'll be late again."
"Figured." Reid hands me another pot. "That mantelpiece is going to be incredible, but I think it's taking years off his life."
"Worth it though. Have you seen the detail work?"
"I've seen him come in at midnight covered in sawdust and swearing." Reid grins. "So, yeah. Must be going well."
We fall into easy rhythm—him washing, me drying. It's such a simple thing. Domestic. Normal. Somehow, even the things that should be boring are fun with him.
"You seem tired," Reid says, not looking at me.
"I'm fine."
"Laine."
I sigh. He knows me too well. "The night shift is catching up with me. That's all."
"That's not all." He turns off the water, dries his hands, and turns to face me fully. "What's going on?"
For a moment, I consider deflecting. But this is Reid, and he'll just wait me out anyway.
"There's a day shift position open. I've been thinking about applying."
His eyebrows rise. "Yeah? That's great. You'd actually sleep like a normal person."
"Maybe."
"Maybe?" He's studying my face now. "Laine, you look exhausted. Your body hates night shift. Why wouldn't you apply?"
I twist the dish towel in my hands. "I love my crew. Joyce and the night team—they're like family. And these mornings with you guys..." I trail off, feeling stupid. "Everything's good right now. Really good. I don't want to screw it up."
Reid is quiet for a moment. Then he leans back against the counter, arms crossed, head tilted like he's trying to solve a particularly stupid puzzle.
"So let me get this straight. You're going to keep working a shift that makes you look like an extra from The Walking Dead because you're afraid that if you switch to days, Blake and I will... what? Forget you exist?"
"That's not?—"
"Or maybe we'll suddenly realize that the only reason we love you is because you make excellent pancake-eating company at seven in the morning?"
