Page 11 of Starved Until Sunset

“Smooth talker.” Demmy looked past Cody, then turned to look over his own shoulder. “Which end do you want?”

“That is a loaded question.”

He got the stink-eye for that.

“I’m going this way.” Demmy stuck a thumb over his shoulder. “And you can have the other end.”

“That works.”

“See you later.”

Cody watched him walk away. The hat needed to be adjusted down a size or two to fit him properly, and the vest drooped from his shoulders, but Demmy looked incredibly cute in the glare of the work lights. Looking down into his own hat, Cody sneered at the grease and dirt that stained the sizing ring. He warily sniffed the vest, then, sighing, put on the hat before putting his arms through the vest. He forced himself not to contemplate which of the burly members of the DPW team had worn both, since every one of them had questionable hygiene. And that was saying something, because after playing high school football for four years, he’d thought he’d become immune to how gross guys could be. Hell, he could be kind of gross himself.

And yet, the DPW team strived for more.

As he sauntered to the other end of the work site, however, Cody debated with himself as to whether a person’s own level of grossness would always be less disgusting than that of someone else. He decided he had a valid point, and, at the boundary of the work area, he stopped and turned to face back the way he’d come. Demmy was visible on the outer fringe of the work lights, and he gave a small wave that made Cody smile. He waved back.

And then he waited.

A few cars came through in the first hour, and Cody thought he and Demmy did well coordinating their signs. After that, there were fewer cars, and boredom quickly set in. He whistled to himself for a while as he leaned against his traffic sign pole, looking around the neighborhood. He’d never realized the yards were so big in Orchardville. A quick fantasy spun through his mind of him and Demmy living in one of these houses with a larger yard and two bathrooms, neither of which had pink tile and fixtures. But then he felt slightly ungrateful to Amelia, since she was allowing them to live in her house rent free, so he shut the fantasies down pretty quick.

A shadow shifted in the backyard of one of the houses, and Cody stood up straight and squinted. Another shape, this one lower to the ground, moved out from behind the house and stood beside the taller one. Just a man and his dog, out for a walk. No cause for alarm. Just that, from where Cody stood, the dog looked pretty damn big.

Over at the work site, the jackhammer skipped across something—a large rock, maybe, or John the Bastard’s foot—and Pete and John both shouted, grabbing Cody’s attention. Pete stopped the jackhammer, and John chewed him out a bit. Cody looked back at the corner of the house, but both figures were gone. He told himself to stop inventing things, and he looked down the road toward Demmy.

He looked as bored as Cody felt, so he decided to entertain them both. He held the traffic sign pole with both hands and did a couple of squats that were, in his mind, slow and sexy. From this distance, he could just make out Demmy’s smile and the shake of his head. But he didn’t look away.

Yep, Cody still had it.

He did a slow strut around the pole, holding it in one hand and extending his body out to the side. Tipping the hard hat down so it covered more of his face, he did some more squats on the opposite side of the pole, then turned his back and pressed himself against it, one hand above his head and the other just below his butt. Moving slowly—and carefully, since the pole wasn’t secured—Cody slid his ass down the length. His knees protested, but he was glad for the fact that his thighs didn’t shake with the effort. Maybe all that torture with Jordie at Infinite Potential the first part of the year had been worth it.

Too bad Jordie had been drowned by the nix. Even though he’d been an asshole, he’d been a good motivator.

“Bower!”

John the Bastard’s thick, deep voice startled him out of his routine, and he nearly fell on his ass. Cody straightened up and pushed his hard hat back, feeling the heat in his cheeks.

“Yeah, okay.” Cody gave a single wave.

“Quit screwing around and pay attention.” John waved past him before going back to his work.

Cody turned. Five cars were lined up and waiting. He’d been so engrossed in his routine, he hadn’t even noticed them. And, apparently, his sign had been turned to STOP. Maybe the drivers had been enjoying the show. Not that he was that much of an attention whore, but it was nice to be appreciated for what he brought to the work site.

He looked over his shoulder to make sure Demmy’s side of the road was clear, and then he turned his sign to the SLOW side and waved the cars up. Every damn one of them stopped with windows down and handed him a dollar. Every damn one. Well, okay then. He guessed they had all enjoyed the show.

The last car in line was filled with giggling and shrieking high school girls. Three of them in the backseat had their heads together, looking at one phone, and Cody had the sinking feeling they’d gotten video of his routine and were uploading it to TikTok. He hoped to hell the hash tags would be kind.

“All right now,” he said, accepting the dollar and waving them through. “Move along.”

“So hot!” one of the girls screamed out the window. “For an old guy.”

Arrow into his heart.

Old guy?

Old?

Son of a bitch.