Bucky looked around the backyard with the discerning eye that MEN have. My dad had it. I'm sure Joey has it. They seem to take stock of everything from the grass to the paving stones. Then they start making internal lists - where they could put the grill, where the picnic table goes, how they could set up the horseshoe pit and so on. It was comforting to watch him to it, to be honest.
"You have someone who mows?" I thought about how Connie and I had a very similar conversation not so long ago. I nodded and told him about Dimitri. "Do you own a mower?"
"Yes, Bucky, there's a mower in the shed, but I don't LIKE to mow." I was unlocking the shed and shaking my head - thinking that he was more like my dad than I thought. His heat met my back before I could open the door. "Do you like to mow?"
"It can be soothing," his breath was on my earlobe and I was thinking that I was damn thankful that Mom and Dad had both a privacy fence alongside the bushes to keep nosy neighbors out of sight and out of mind. "What did you want to show me?" Shit he'd done it again, he short circuited my damn brain.
"A few things," opening the door, I flicked on the overhead.
Dad didn't have a man cave, instead the shed had been his hideaway. While the car had taken most of the garage part, he'd managed to keep part of it for himself still, though I didn't see any new projects. And the darkroom was off to itself, not large enough to matter, really.
"Is that -" of course Bucky's attention focused on the car. Whose wouldn't? "Brooke?" He hadn't moved from me, while his eyes might be laser focused on the mechanical wonder, I took heart in knowing he STILL felt I was more worthy of his bodily attention.
"Connie -" I sighed and shook my head. "My dad was planning on surprising me with it, for my birthday. It was -" I shook my head again. "I missed it."
"Oh," his lips brushed my temple. "Have you taken her out?" Cars and boats, wasn't that the saying? Cars and boats are like women for men? Always "her" and "she". I nodded.
"You can drive HER tonight," he chuckled. "I'm still getting used to her."
"That's ONE," his arms tightened and I knew he thought I had some friskier purpose for him and the shed, and while I wouldn't be opposed, that wasn't really what I'd meant.
"When we were hanging out with Sam and Sarah," he went as still and silent as only Bucky could. "I noticed that you seemed to like the work - the wood working?"
"I'd never really done it before," he offered. "It was different, relaxing."
Turning to face him, tilting my head back I smiled. "My dad used this shed as his self care spot." Bucky studied me as I spoke, listening and waiting. "He loved to do woodworking, real woodworking. When we go back inside, so you can unpack? I'll show you the vanity that he made my mom." He nodded. "He made my rocking horse. He made my cradle."
"I don't know -" I took his hand and pulled him to the smaller area Dad had created for himself. "I don't know where to start -"
"Neither did he," I told him about my dad, Andrew Ashley the warehouse supervisor who self taught himself after taking a few shop classes in school and getting a taste. "He picked up books and videos where he could, watched stuff online, you know, what people do when they find a hobby."
I watched Bucky's eyes land on Dad's tools. All those special, magical things that could bring beauty out of a block of wood. And then his fingers followed the path his eyes had taken. "Are you sure?" He looked so uncertain.
"I'm sure," I smiled up at him. "And he even made a dark room for me, right over there." I pointed to the door close by. "Even in self care, we'll be close."
Bucky's smile grew. "Guess that kind of settles it then," his free arm snaked out to pull me close. "If my girl is nearby, then how could I avoid it?"