Just Steve

T W E N T Y - T W O

"Okay, just a few more tweaks and I can take her out."

You and Steve were by the dock of a pier on the east side of the city. You were watching while Steve fiddled around a fairly large boat, a box of tools laying nearby as the boat rocked lazily back and forth.

"Take who out? Who is 'her'?" you teased, fully knowing what he was referring to but unable to resist the temptation to mess with him a little.

"The boat sweetheart, I'm talking about the boat."

Looking up from the motor of the boat to where you were sitting by the wheel, Steve chuckled lightly when he saw you give him your best puppy dog eyes.

"Oh come on, how could I possibly have time for another girl, you're a handful enough as it is."

You laughed back, trying to to come up with some clever response but nothing came to you. Instead you had become distracted watching him continue to work on the boat, using a wrench to tighten one of the bolts. With every turn, the muscles in his arms bulged making you wish you could do things that were probably frowned upon to do in public.

It wasn't fair, the man was too perfect. The looks were one thing but that didn't even compare to how thoughtful and attentive he was. Having noticed how stressed you had been lately trying to juggle getting ready for the baby, finals as well as the draining conversations with your mother, Steve had insisted on taking you out for a day on one of Tony's boats. He made you laugh more than anyone you had ever known, to the point that your cheeks would hurt from smiling whenever you were with him. In other words, you were completely smitten.

"Can you hand me the screwdriver?" Steve asked, bring you back to reality.

You leaned over the edge of the boat to rummage around the toolbox to find what he was looking for.

"Slotted or Phillips head?" you said, pulling what you had found out of the black box to show him.

Steve looked up at you in surprise, giving you a questioning look.

"What I know things," you laughed, shrugging slightly. You walked over to the motor taking a quick look. What Steve didn't know is that as the only child to a father obsessed with refurbishing old boats, bikes, and cars, you had become very familiar with all kinds of motors and machines.

"You don't need a screwdriver, you just have to open the fuel vent, it's a portable tank," you noted, tossing the tools back in the box, and sitting back in the seat by the wheel. 

Steve bent down, twisting the cap you had pointed to so that it was fully open. You stuck the keys in the ignition and sure enough heard the motor roar to life.

"Okay, how did you know that?" he asked, putting the rest of the tools back in the box and closing the lid.

"My dad taught me all about this stuff. He always wanted a son but got stuck with a daughter so I always tried to find interest in the things he liked," you explained. 

You knew that your dad cared for you in his own way, but just like there are some things only a woman will understand, you could only imagine the same goes for men. If only you had known then like you did now, that no amount of motors fixed, or engines repaired could ever keep a broken family together. You could have spared yourself a lot of agonizing hours working late into the night with your father.

"Well why didn't you say anything earlier? I've been working on this motor for twenty minutes!" he whined, causing you to laugh.

"Because," you said, getting up from your seat, walking to where he stood and wrapping your arms around his neck. "I like watching you work."