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“Yeah, reading and driving, mostly. Sometimes I just get so used to wearing them I don’t realize I hadn’t taken them off.”
The pump shuts off, and he makes quick work of turning it off and closing my cap. After grabbing the receipt from the pump, I step up until we’re practically chest to chest. “Thank you,” I state before brushing my lips across his.
“I didn’t do anything,” he says.
“You pumped my gas. No one has ever done that for me before. Thank you.”
“No one’s pumped your gas? Honey, I’m not exactly worldly in my dating history, but even I can see you’ve dated the wrong guys,” he quips with a sexy smile.
“You’re telling me,” I reply, unable to wipe the smile off my face.
“It’s getting chilly. Get inside your car and head home. I’m gonna fill up and then get home. Can I call you later?” he asks while grabbing his nozzle and starting to fill up his own car.
“Yeah. I’m having dinner with Abby tonight, but we both have to work tomorrow so it won’t be a late night.”
He walks over to me once more and kisses me. His lips are warm compared to the cold air, but I’m pretty sure it’s the man that causes my blood to heat up and a dampness to flood my panties.
“Talk to you later.”
“Bye.”
Getting in the driver’s seat, I glance over at the man just outside the window. He grins and waves again before turning his attention back to the pump. I’m left with my thoughts as I continue my drive into Jupiter Bay. The air is crisp off the Bay, and for some reason, it feels like I’ve been gone weeks instead of a couple of days. Maybe that’s because I don’t get out of town much.
When you’re running your own small business, you give it everything you have, including all of your free time and energy. But even as exhausting as it has been, the rewards outweigh the stresses. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else with my life, and hope to still be doing this for the next thirty or forty years. I pray I’m just as active as my grandparents are now. You’d never know they were in their early eighties by the way they act and get around.
Pulling into the rear parking lot, I hop out, excited to get inside the shop and see how they did in my absence. When I reach the back door, I can hear voices coming from the work area. I let myself inside the business I grew from an empty building and find my grandparents in a compromising position.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” I yell, desperately shielding my eyes. If I weren’t already inside the back door I would have turned and ran. Instead, I take a step to the right and walk right into a metal shelving unit that houses Styrofoam pieces, excess ribbon, and peat moss. When things start to hit the floor, I don’t even glance up.
“What are you two doing?” I ask, not only shielding my eyes but squeezing them shut in a double attempt to spare myself nightmares.
“Well, we were about to play hide the salami before you interrupted,” Grandpa chastises.
“Payters, you have horrible timing,” Grandma adds, making me gasp. “We’re decent. You can open your eyes.”
Of course, I don’t right away–just in case they’re joking. Things like this you can’t unsee. I learned that the hard way when I was fifteen and forgot to knock. One time. One friggin’ time I forgot to knock.
Well, I never forgot again.
“Why are you two getting frisky in my storage room? Who’s up front taking care of customers?” I blink several times as my eyes adjust to the florescent lighting. When they settle on my grandparents, I notice her face is flushed, her neck is whisker burnt, and his belt is undone. This whole scenario is just wrong on so many different levels.
“Abby’s here. I was taking a break, and Orvie took one of his little blue pills,” she states sweetly. “We just couldn’t waste it.”
“It?” I ask before realizing my question. Then it hits me. “No! Oh God, no! Don’t you dare say anymore!”
“Payton,” Grandpa starts.
Rubbing the side of my head where a massive headache is budding, I say, “It’s almost closing time. Why don’t you two head home, and I’ll help Abby close up?”
“Then we won’t waste a perfectly good hard-on, Orvie.”
Again, I groan. “Please stop saying hard-on and go before I end up in therapy.”
“I’m not sure I should drive in my condition,” Grandpa adds, pointing down at his tented trousers. And I look.
My eyes!
“Thank you for all your help! I appreciate everything you guys did while I was gone. Gotta go check on things,” I holler over my shoulder, it coming out all in one long breathy run-on sentence.
