Cracks in Their Shells

"Becca, I'm going to lunch with my brother, then we're going to do some shopping before the Black Friday rush in a couple of weeks."

"Sounds good, Janice. I think I can hold down the fort for a little while."

Becca had worked in Janice's accounting office for three years. By now, she knew the administrative side of things better than Janice did. She was an indispensable part of the business, and Janice was thankful to have her.

Logan was an infrequent visitor to Janice's office, but he usually had time for idle chat with Becca while he waited to see his sister. While his words were always pleasant, his smile seemed forced, and Becca sensed an underlying sadness in the man. She asked Janice about him one day.

"He's been a widower for a few years now," Janice explained. "His wife Laura had breast cancer, but by the time she was diagnosed it had already spread to other parts of her body. Logan still isn't through grieving, but he won't talk about it much. Now that his kids are away at school, he just buries himself in his cabinetry business during the day and tinkers in his workshop at night."

This saddened Becca, and she felt sorry for Logan. Like him, she carried her own sorrows silently and alone.

On this day, however, Becca instantly noticed a change in Logan's demeanor. He seemed genuinely happy for once and was determined to share that happiness with everyone he met. Traffic in the office had been slow that day, so Becca welcomed the opportunity for some cheerful banter. She was transfixed by his wide smile and blushed and turned away when she realized she had been caught staring. This only widened Logan's smile further.

"I wish you would hurry up," Logan called down the hallway to Janice. "I'm hungry, and Santa's got shopping to do. Ho, ho, ho!" Becca giggled at his jollity.

"Let me file these last few reports and I'll be ready," came his sister's reply.

"Janice, give those to me and I'll take care of them," Becca pleaded with her boss. "Logan is waiting for you."

Logan rolled his eyes in mock frustration, then called loudly, "If you don't hurry up, I'm going to take Becca to lunch instead!"

Becca blushed crimson at this remark as she heard Janice yell back, "Fine, then. I said hold on a min..." There was a noticeable pause in the rustling of papers and closing of file drawers and Janice walked into the reception area. With a smile on her face she said, "Actually, I think that's a great idea. You two go eat, and Logan and I will do our shopping later."

Becca started to protest, and if it was possible for her to blush deeper, she did. She turned to look at Logan to gauge his reaction to his sister's words. He had red cheeks of his own now, but his grin was still there as he said, "Becca, she called my bluff. Whaddya say? Will you go to lunch with me?"

The shy secretary, caught off guard by this whirlwind of an exchange, managed to stammer, "Um, okay, I guess. Wait, not 'I guess.' I'd be happy to. Just let me grab my coat and purse. Oh, they're right here."

Logan held the door for Becca, then opened the door to his truck. He offered her his hand as she climbed up and in. She thought that maybe he squeezed her hand a little as he teased, "I take it you're not used to riding in trucks?"

"Now I just have to figure out how to get out of this thing," she said.

"You can just jump out, and I'll catch you," Logan smiled as he replied. His teasing had turned to flirting.

As he walked around to his side of the truck, several thoughts raced through Becca's mind. "My god, he's cute. And a gentleman. Did he really just squeeze my hand, or did I imagine that? I wonder what's come over him today?"

At Logan's insistence that she choose, Becca requested that they go to her favorite coffee shop for lunch. They chatted like old friends, and both seemed to grow at ease after the initial awkwardness of this impromptu pairing wore off. When they finished their meal, they walked to the bookstore next door to the coffee shop so Becca could pick up a couple of gifts for her sister and niece. Logan strolled to the history section and thumbed through a new release about the Gowrie House Affair. He didn't hear Becca walk up behind him and jumped when she asked "Whatcha reading? Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"Scottish history. Boring stuff." He placed the volume back on the shelf and asked if she had found suitable gifts for her family members. She showed him the Harry Potter character encyclopedia she had chosen for her sister and a Disney princess book for her niece. As they made their way to the checkout, Becca paused to pick up a Harry Potter pop art figure, then placed it back on the shelf. Logan made a mental note of her interest in the young wizard.

"We've been gone over an hour," Becca informed Logan. "We had better get back before Janice hires my replacement."

"Already taken care of. Well, not the replacement part. I called Janice while you were shopping and got permission to keep you a little longer. I ordered lunch for her as a thank-you."

"Okay. So, what's the plan?"

"I need a woman's advice on something I'm building, but I can't ask Janice because it's a surprise for my niece, and for her as well. Plus, I need to stop and get something for my nephew to go with the present I'm building him."

He helped Becca into the truck again, and again, she felt that he might have given her hand a little squeeze. They drove to a sporting goods store where Logan instructed her to pick out a couple of baseball caps. "Just don't get the Yankees," he said. "I'm a Red Sox fan and I've already gotten him two of their caps, so I'll let you choose the others." Becca picked out Kansas City Royals and Miami Marlins hats.

As she climbed in the truck this time, Becca was certain that Logan squeezed her hand, and she squeezed his back with a smile. Logan returned her smile, and as he walked around to his side of the truck, both of them realized how much they were enjoying the other's company.

They chatted about Thanksgiving and Christmas, where they were going, who they still had to shop for, and what their favorite holiday meal items were. As Logan turned into his driveway, Becca complimented him on the neat appearance of his yard and landscaping. It was an older house, but the neighborhood seemed quiet and could have fit in any picture of middle-class America. Rather than pull under the carport, Logan followed a second drive around to two buildings in the back. The larger of the two was adorned with a sign that read "Mathews and Sons Cabinetry and Woodworking," while the other was small with a tidiness that fit the rest of the property.

"'Mathews and Sons' is something of a joke in our family," Logan began. "I named the company that when the boys were little and I envisioned them following in my footsteps one day. They're both juniors at NC State now with one majoring in business and the other in forestry."

"That actually sounds like a good combination for a cabinetry business," Becca observed. "The forester can help you get materials, and the business major can sell cabinets for you."

"I've had that same thought," Logan smiled. "I wonder if it's crossed their minds?" He continued, "That shop's for business. What I want to show you is in the other shop, though."

Logan worked the key in the lock, reached in and turned on a light, and held the door for Becca to enter. She found herself in a veritable Santa's workshop. Woodworking projects in various stages of completion lay on a couple of workbenches, tools hung neatly from hooks in a pegboard, stacks of various woods were piled on shelves and along one wall, and a stack of firewood waited to be used beside a cast-iron stove. The frame of a wooden canoe hung from the rafters on the far end of the building, a disassembled shotgun and a couple of fishing reels adorned one corner of a metal teacher's desk, and an ancient-looking truck peeked out from beneath a canvas tarp.

More riveting than the sights in the workshop were the smells. A dizzying array of odors competed for Becca's attention: wood stains and varnishes, ash from the stove, sawdust, old canvas, tobacco, paste wax, paint thinner, and another scent she could not place.

Becca marveled at what she saw and smelled. "My dad would love this place. I love this place."

"Most men do, but women usually don't seem to get it. Laura hated the smells," Logan replied.

"No, the smells are what makes it so - manly. This one's a little harsh, though." She pointed to a brown bottle on a shelf.

"What? That's Hoppe's Number 9 gun bore cleaner. It's the 'manliest,' as you put it, scent in the whole place.

"What's this?" Becca nodded to a burnt substance on a saucer.

"Cherry pipe tobacco. I don't smoke it, but I like the way it smells. It reminds me of my grandfather." Logan beamed with pride at Becca's obvious approval of his lair.

Becca wandered over to the tarp-covered truck. "That's Polly, Logan explained. "She's a 1929 Ford Model A. It came in any color you wanted..."

"As long as it was black." Becca completed his sentence. "I don't know why that stuck with me. I guess it seemed witty."

She stepped up on a stool to inspect the top of the truck. She heard Logan yell "Look out!" just as the stool started to roll. She felt herself losing her balance and she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth at the hard landing she knew was coming. Before she could complete the fall, she felt Logan's strong arms embrace her and bring her safely back to the ground. She fell back into his chest and opened her eyes, thankful that her clumsiness hadn't resulted in bruises or broken bones.

"I said I would catch you, but I didn't really think I would have the opportunity," Logan said softly, then added teasingly, "That stool has wheels on it, for future reference."

Logan released his embrace on his embarrassed guest. When she turned around, Becca saw another wide grin adorning the man's handsome face. She dropped her head and blushed, then recovered her composure and said, "I guess I've seen enough of the truck for now. What was it you wanted to show me? You said you needed my help with something?"

Logan led her to the workbench and presented two legs he had turned on a lathe. "I'm building a piano bench for my niece, Sophie. Which one of these leg styles should I go with?"

Becca studied the two samples before her. One was of a simple design, with a single, gentle taper to a slight bulge just above the foot. The other was much more ornate, with multiple changes in profile and intricate scrollwork.

"This one," Becca began, holding the second leg, "is absolutely gorgeous. I think it might be a bit much for a seven-year-old, though. I would suggest the other one." Fearing she might have hurt his pride by opting for the one with the simpler design, she quickly added, "But what do you think?"

"I think you are exactly right," Logan answered. "See, you've already helped me with half the problem. Now, what color should I stain it?"

Becca studied the color of the red oak pieces and asked, "Do you have to stain it? It's pretty the way it is."

"I like your way of thinking." Logan smiled another wide smile at Becca's suggestion. "I will put a couple of coats of lacquer on it, though, just to keep it from getting dirty."

Next, Logan showed her an oversized baseball bat with pegs sticking from it. It was a coat / hat rack for his nephew Jake. "That's the other part of his present, to go along with the caps you picked out."

"Thank you for bringing me here, Logan. I feel like one of Santa's elves helping in his workshop."

Logan felt a sudden surge of nerve and used it to reply, "Santa wouldn't get much work done with an elf as pretty as you are to distract him. You're elfin cute, you know it?"

As she had done countless times that day, Becca blushed, but she didn't look away this time. Drawing up courage of her own, she said, "And you, Mr. Kringle, are elfin charming."

"Charming. Not a word used to describe me very often, but I rather like it." He reluctantly added, "As interesting as this conversation is, though, I should probably get you back to the office. Janice may start thinking I kidnapped you. Would you mind continuing this conversation over dinner tomorrow night? I make a pretty mean chicken parmesan, and we can build a fire in the pit."

"I'll have to check my schedule. Hmmm, it seems I am free," Becca teased. "How does 6:30 sound?"

After the arrangements had been made, Logan helped Becca into his truck, but this time Becca squeezed his hand just before he squeezed hers. He offered to walk her inside when they got back to the office, but Becca politely declined the offer. She knew she was bound to be peppered with questions from Janice, and she didn't want Logan to be a witness to that. Instead, she reached up, gave him a kiss on the cheek and said, "Thank you, Logan. I had a really good time today."

"The feeling is mutual," came Logan's reply. "I'll see you tomorrow."

*********

"Judging by the look on your face and how long you were gone, you two did more than just go to lunch." Janice had a sly grin on her face as she began her teasing.

Becca took the ribbing in stride but tried to change the subject. "I'm sorry I was gone so long. I'll stay over to make up for it."

"Uh-uh, you're not getting out of this that easy. Besides, the phone rang exactly twice while you were gone, and the Chinese takeout Logan sent was decent, so I'm all good. Now, what did you two get into? Please tell me he didn't show you that nasty workshop he loves so much."

"Oh! The workshop is far from nasty. A little cluttered, maybe, but not nasty. I thought it was cozy and I could tell he takes pride in his work. Santa would be jealous to have a shop such as Logan's."

Janice rolled her eyes and groaned, but rebounded with characteristic nosiness. "So, what's he building now? Let me guess: a catapult?"

This elicited a giggle from Becca. "I'm sworn to secrecy. You'll find out in time, though."

"Fair enough. You're smiling more than I've seen you smile in a long time. There's more to tell, so tell."

"Janice! Okay, we're having dinner at his place tomorrow night. Chicken parmesan is on the menu, I am told."

"Mmmm, that sounds good. Logan is a good cook, so you won't go home hungry."

"Sounds like he's quite the Renaissance man. What do I need to know, Janice? I've never seen him the way he was today. Any idea what's gotten into him? And how old is he, anyway?"

"He's 45, so old enough to be house-trained and have good taste in music and wine, but young enough to still believe in the magic of Christmas. He's like this every year around this time, so you got to see him at his best today. Wait, that was too harsh. As I've told you before, he's still not over Laura. This will be new for him, Becca. Just give him a little space to adjust to it and things will be fine. He's a good guy and a gentleman, and I'm not saying that just because he's my brother."

Becca stored all this information in her mind, but one thing troubled her.

"Janice, he's twelve years older than I am. Isn't that a little weird?

"Only if you let it be weird. You're both adults and capable of making that decision. I don't think it's weird, especially since I've thought about trying to set the two of you up on a date before. Now, if he were 28 and you were 16, that would be weird. And illegal."

Becca giggled at this last remark, then the shock of the revelation that her boss had thought about setting Logan and her up on a date hit her.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. You two have so much in common that it just makes sense. I can tell by the look on your face that you're uncertain, but you're not backing out of this. Becca, sweetie, I know that fucker in college hurt you, and I know you can't just forget that, but you are one of the most genuinely good people I know. Logan's another one. This is the first time I've ever seen a crack in the shell you've put yourself in, so give that crack a chance to grow. Even if it's not with Logan, you deserve to be happy."

Becca was taken aback by Janice's use of profanity, but her boss's words gave her courage. Others had told her similar things over the past fifteen years, but this time it stuck. Despite her pain, she knew Janice was right. She took a deep breath and nodded at Janice. The smile returned.

"Good. I like that smile. Don't worry. This will be fine. Enjoy yourself. Let yourself live."

Becca took another deep breath and smiled widely. She felt better after the pep talk from Janice.

"Oh, one more thing, Becca. If Logan fucks this up, I'll kill him."

*********

"What did you do to her?" Janice's voice was teasing, but her question was serious.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Logan grinned into his phone. "You got nose problems?"

"Logan, I've never seen that girl so distracted in my life. I don't think her feet touched the floor all afternoon. Maybe I should have asked, what did she do to you?"

Logan sat silently for a moment, then quietly replied, "She made me feel something I haven't felt in a long time, and I quite liked it. A lot."

Janice backed off from her teasing. "Well, it's obvious the feeling is mutual. You know, I've even thought about trying to set the two of you up on a date before. You saved me the trouble by being your silly self."

"You have? You meddlesome..." Logan started to tease his little sister, but then grew serious. "What's her story, Janice? Why is someone as pretty and sweet as she is still single? How old is she, anyway?"

"She's 33, so old enough to know what she's doing. Someone hurt her badly in the past, Logan. It bothers her that she's still single, but she needs someone who will not rush things. Just don't screw this up."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. I'm twelve years older than she is. What the hell am I doing?" Logan chuckled.

"You're trying to live again, and I'm happy for you. Both of you. You've been hiding in your shell for too long, and I think, I hope, maybe I'm seeing a crack begin to appear. But Logan, one more thing -"

"What's that?"

"Please don't keep her around that filthy workshop you love so much."

*********

Becca stood in front of the mirror in her underwear while she filled the tub with water. She studied herself critically, though any flaws she thought she saw were minor to barely noticeable. 'Beautiful' was probably a little too strong a word to describe Becca, but she was pretty in an understated kind of way. Her face was delicate, with thin lips and a slightly upturned nose centered beneath a pair of piercing ice-blue eyes. Her brunette hair hung to just above her shoulders, which held the faint traces of last summer's tan. Otherwise, her skin was soft and fair in tone. When she undid the clasps of her bra, she revealed a pair of B cup breasts that fit her body perfectly. At 5'3" and 105 pounds, she was one of the rare female specimens who managed to maintain her weight with minimal effort. She wriggled out of her panties to uncover a pear-shaped bottom delightfully proportional to her frame. As she turned her naked body to look at herself in the mirror, she frowned at the mass of curly hair that had been hidden behind her panties. "That needs some attention," she thought aloud, then giggled at the double meaning of the thought. This bath was going to be just what she needed after the excitement of the day.

Becca settled into the hot water of her bath and began to relax. She hadn't realized how tense her body was, but given the whirlwind that had been her Thursday, it made sense that she could feel each muscle release its tension. She leaned back against the coolness of the porcelain and let the water envelop her. The combination of the water she poured over her shoulders and down her torso, coupled with the thought of what Logan would think if he could see her in the nude, caused her dark nipples to stiffen and a tingling sensation to creep up her thighs. She imagined him behind her in the tub, embracing her while she leaned back into his chest. Her hands, no, Logan's hands, explored her body while she closed her eyes and relished the sensations his hands provided. He cupped her breasts in his hands, then gave her nipples an obliging pinch. Becca purred with delight at this much-needed attention. He traced the contours of her ribs, eliciting a giggle and a squirm from his lover, and she felt his erection growing against her hips. Further, further he explored her body until he reached the now neatly-trimmed triangle of hairs above her yearning pussy. Ever so slowly, he began to apply pressure to the top of her lips with his middle finger. She spread her legs to give him full access to her most intimate parts. He felt her jump as he found the top of her clit, then gently but firmly wrapped his arm around her waist to hold her in place. She deserved the pleasure she was about to receive, and he was not going to let her escape it. He was now rock-hard, and Becca shivered at the thought of what his manhood would feel like once it was inside her. Logan began making large circles around Becca's clit, then narrowed his focus on the top of her engorged nub. Varying speed, pressure, and location caused Becca's heart to race and her breathing to grow shallow. She wriggled in pleasure, but Logan still held her in place. She felt her orgasm building, and as it rushed through her body Logan lifted her hips from the floor of the tub, pulled her back to him, and plunged into the depths of her needy pussy.