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JOSIE
Ihave no idea who the hell that girl was just now, but I am not mad about it. I’ve never been so sexually confident in my entire life. Sure, I haven’t slept with a hundred men, but still. I was with Zack for years, and never once did I tell him I needed more during oral.
Andrew makes me confident. I didn’t even worry about the stomach rolls, stretch marks or the fact that one of my tits is a cup size bigger than the other. I don’t even think he noticed. Zack used to point it out all the time, but Andrew… God, have I really been missing out on good sex for so long? Did I just accept that it would always be sub par for me?
I slide my shirt over my head, finding my underwear discarded on the floor. Putting jeans on is the last thing I want to do right now, but I’m not exactly in a spot to ask him for clothes. I start putting my jeans on, pulling them up and buttoning them, cursing their existence.
“I’ll be right back,” Andrew says, turning and running down the hall. He’s still naked as he was the day he was born, and I chuckle inwardly at his pasty white butt, compared to the rest of him. Thumping footsteps fly down the hall, revealing Travis’s golden fur as he barrels toward me. I sit down on the couch, and he nestles himself between my legs, wiggling his butt and trying to be a seventy pound lap dog. I crow at him, giving him all the pets and snuggles, not even caring that I’ll be covered in dog hair.
I’ve wanted to get a dog of my own for a long time, but when you work the random hours I do, between the diner, and potential floral events, I didn’t want them to be alone for whole days. So, I’ve held off.
Andrew bounds down the hall in a pair of loose jogger sweats and a worn Minnesota Blue Herons hockey tee. He has a few different items in his hands, and I glance at them in confusion.
“Here,” he offers, holding out the items. “I brought you something else to wear. To be honest, jeans sound like the last thing I want to put on, and I figured you felt the same.” I take the items from him, finding a pair of black sweats, and a shirt that will probably fit me like a dress.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to overstep.”
Andrew shakes his head. “Even if I drop you off in twenty minutes, or if you stay, I want you to be comfortable. They’re just clothes, you can keep them, or bring them back to me next time.”
I try to hold back the giddy laugh that’s threatening to escape over the thought of next time. Really though, I’m grateful. These jeans are making me want to crawl out of my own skin. I take the clothes, and Andrew shows me to the bathroom. Travis follows close behind, and I swear he pouts as I shut the door with him behind it.
After I change and clean up, trying to fix the rats nest that is my hair, I head out of the bathroom and toward the front door where my shoes sit. I fold my discarded jeans and set them on the ground next to my bag, checking my phone in the process. There’s an unanswered text from Marley, and one from my mom, inviting me for brunch in a few weeks.
Marley
How was your date? This is me trying not to pry, but also super curious.
Me
It’s… good. Still going actually.
Ooooh. Okay, I’ll leave you be, but please please call me if you need anything!
Will do! Thanks for setting this up, btw.
No problem! I had a feeling when I met you that you two might be a good fit.
Thanks again!
I tuck my phone into the pocket of the cozy sweatpants, and rub my hand down the front of the shirt Andrew gave me to wear. I can hear Andrew rustling around the kitchen, Travis’s paws clicking on the linoleum floor. I follow the noise, and Andrew greets me with a wide smile.
“What’s that for?” I ask, unable to stop my own smile. His smiles are contagious.
“I like seeing you in my clothes.”
“Ah, so this was all a trick to get me into your clothes?” I cheekily remark. I step over to the counter, nudging him with my hip. He drops a bag of pretzels onto the counter, sliding his arms around my waist to pull me into him.
“Is that such a bad thing?” he murmurs, tilting his head down to kiss me deeply. With reluctance, he breaks us apart. “We should get out to the shop before I lose myself in you.”
I copy his remark. “Is that such a bad thing?”
Andrew squeezes my ass gently before leading me out of the kitchen. He directs me to get my shoes, so I run to the front door, slipping them on before meeting him back at the sliding porch door. He takes my hand in his, and Travis bounds through the open sliding door before we even have a chance to take a step. He runs down the porch stairs, doing a quick lap around the back yard, stopping a few times to pee on various bushes and trees.
Andrew whistles sharply when he disappears from view into the dusk evening. Of course, he races back, circling our legs as we walk down the pebbled pathway to the shop. It’s a large building, similar to a barn, but slightly smaller.
The red wood of the barn is faded, the dark grain of the wood peeking through. The trim of the doors and windows are a bright white, standing out against the deep red. A sign hangs above the door, reading “Cunningham Bespoke Woodcraft.” The same logo that’s on the side of his truck. We reach the heavy door, Andrew pushing it open easily. The instant smell of wood hits me, but it’s not a bad smell. No, it smells eerily homey. Fresh.
Andrew flicks on the lights, illuminating the shop- which is much larger than it seems from outside. The back wall has a line of gorgeous cherry wood cabinets lining it, with a work bench underneath. Various tools and wood pieces are scattered on it. To my right is a table saw, and another machine that I can’t place the name of. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a wood shop, probably since my middle school industrial tech class. I distinctly remember making an owl shaped key holder. We wood burned our designs into it, and it still hangs proudly in my parents' entryway.
