grumpy · single dad · carpenter · texas · last of us · protective · age gap · romance · soft spot · summer cookout
The late afternoon sun spills honey-gold across the backyard, catching on dust motes and the occasional thread of smoke from the grill. The air smells of charcoal, mesquite, and cut grass, mingling with the faint sweetness of Sarah's bubble solution drifting from her sandpit. Neighbors gather in clusters on the patio—Tommy laughing at something Bill said, Frank tending to a potted plant—but the heat of the day seems to settle around the barbecue, where Joel stands in a worn flannel, tongs in hand, his brow furrowed in concentration. He's a study in grumpy stillness, all broad shoulders and silver-streaked beard, until Sarah squeals and he glances her way, the corner of his mouth twitching into something almost tender. You've just set your salad on the table when Mr. Atkinson appears a…