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. . .
braxton
This damn job.I don’t like it. Not really. When I first moved here, I saw thehelp wantedsign in the feed store and decided to apply. I mean, how hard could working in a retail store be in such a small town? But I found out quickly that it isa lotof work and realized that people come in here just to talk.
They actually do this in their free time.
And don’t get me started on the smell of this place. As soon as you walk in, you can smell the interesting and slightly stomach-turning odor of food, meat, and oil all mixed together. There are days when it makes me slightly nauseous, but then again, some days I barely notice it. Maybe that means I’m acclimating to this Kansas town. I’ve been here for a few years and there are times when I still feel like the new kid in town. And I definitely don’t fit in.
I guess I could try a little harder to be friendly, but that’s just not me. I just want someone to like me for me.
My mind conjures up Jimbob, and I feel my heart rate quicken. He doesn’t seem to have any issue with me. None whatsoever. No, he seems to like me just fine. Likes me so much that he came in his pants just from rocking up against me.
The thought makes my body tremble and flame. But that cools almost instantly when I see Delilah working at her coffee stand while I stock shelves. I can’t be thinking about her son’s dick while she’s near. That makes me feel too pervy. So I tamp down the lust building within me and focus on her instead. On how damn nice she is. She’s chatting with customers, just like she did at the farmer’s market on Saturday. It’s a skill, really. She doesn’t seem to run out of small talk or pleasantries the entire time she’s behind that counter. She even tried to get me to try some honey and vanilla coffee earlier, and when I refused, she just laughed and handed me a black coffee instead. “On the house, love,” she’d said, and I had to take it. Because how could I refuse that?
I don’t get her, just like I don’t get her son, and yet I’m drawn to them all the same.
I can’t keep away from Jimbob.
It’s why I showed up at his place the other night. I was lying in my room, smelling the cigarette smoke wafting in from my mom who was sitting outside, and I just had to see him. So I’d jolted off my lumpy mattress and drove to his place without a second thought.
And then he proceeded to cook me dinner in his cozy house and then washed my clothes. I’d found them on my doorstep the next morning, folded and smelling like him.
I admit that I glanced around and then tucked my face into them, inhaling deeply, bringing in as much of that sunshine as I could before putting them under my pillow. I was keeping them for later, for when I needed to remember that special night.
This is what life could be like, I think. Someone like me could have something like that one day…could have someone like Jimbob.
Almost as if conjuring him up, Jimbob makes an appearance. He’s wearing his usual overalls and boots, a huge smile on his handsome face as he approaches one of the cashiers.
I scoot a little closer to him, trying to get a better look at his behind, and then bite back a soft moan when he says, “Good morning, Marty. I found this out in the parking lot and I’m sure someone is missing it.”
He slaps down a hundred-dollar bill on the counter, and Marty doesn’t look surprised at all.
“Ah, thank you, Jimbob. I’ll put up a flyer around town and post on our Facebook page. Hopefully, the person that lost it will see it and come grab it.”
I blink at him, trying like hell to get my body under control all while my mind is reeling. Jimbob found a hundred-dollar bill and didn’t keep it. It probably never even crossed his mind to tuck that into his overalls and claim it as his own. Instead, he handed it to Marty and they’re going to make a Facebook post about it.
Who wouldn’t claim that? Just lie and say it’s theirs?
I let out a small scoff even as my heart thunders in my chest.
Just too much goodness all around. Too much. I bet in this town, no one would say it was theirs unless it really was. They’re all too honest. It’s so simple, so easy.
Life isn’t like this. They’re all living in some kind of delusion. This isn’t the real world.
And yet, maybe it is. Maybe out here in this small town, it really is just that simple.
I shake my head and grab another bag of feed to place on the shelf when Jimbob spots me. He comes to a stop and then thoselips turn up into the brightest smile, like he’s genuinely happy to see me.
It makes something inside of me ache. Just like his face must. How does it not hurt him to smile that big?
My heart flutters in my chest as he walks over to me, his cheeks slightly pink as his eyes meet mine. “Hi, Braxton. Um, how was your weekend?”
Oh god, my face is starting to flame just from being near him. I don’t want him to see me blush. And yet I can’t stop the images of us dry-humping each other until we came in our pants like horny teens. Anyone could have seen us doing that. We were rutting outside like two animals in heat.
“You know how my weekend was,” I say with a grumble and then try to go back to stocking shelves. I’m not surprised at all when he picks up some of the products and starts to help me.
“Mine was pretty great too,” he says with a small laugh. “Real damn nice.”
