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And it proves to be true because, for long-drawn-out minutes, I stand there and watch him interacting with her and a couple of customers like the infatuated sap I seem to have become. It’s only when he peers over at me, his eyes twinkling, that I shake it off and get back to work.
I have to play it cool.
I can totally play it cool.
I try like hell to play it cool like I told myself I would, but I still end up showing up at the hayride far too early. And I blink and blink at what appears before me. It’s exactly what Jimbob said. He’s standing next to his big green tractor which is hitched to a long wooden trailer, hay bales lined up on both sides.
As soon as his gaze meets mine, he beams. Just blinding sunshine aimed right at me.
“You made it,” he says when I approach. “And you’re even early.”
“Yeah,” I say, feeling slightly uncomfortable and nervous. I can’t believe I showed all my cards like that. Just showing up so damn early, unable to contain my excitement and not wanting to miss this and disappoint him.
He grins wide at me, handing me a soft flannel jacket, which I pull on even though it’s not as cold as I thought it would be. Then he pulls a baseball cap out of his back pocket and hands it to me. “It’s still a little sunny out here. You might want this.”
I look at the hat, worn from actual time outside and which has probably sat on his head while he plows the fields day in and day out. But instead of grossing me out, it only makes me like it more. I grunt and pull it on over my hair.
“Looks good on you.” He lowers his voice and adds, “If I can be honest, you look good in my clothes.”
My dick twitches, and I shift to my side, trying to get my body under control. I will not be getting a hard cock in front of kids. That’s even worse than it happening at work in front of his mom.
He shrugs and pulls another hat out from his back pocket and slides it on over his head. It’s green like his tractor, and I want to say he looks ridiculous, but honestly, he just looks ridiculously hot.
His arm muscles are flexed tight under his long-sleeved shirt, and his overalls hug his perfect ass as he turns and waves excitedly to the cars pulling up in the dirt parking lot. He’s far too happy about this hayride, and he’s not the only one.
One by one, kids line up at the end of the trailer and climb on as soon as Jimbob lowers a small step ladder for them. They’re bouncing around excitedly, chattering and giggling, and then I turn and see Delilah show up with her portable cart, hot cocoa with marshmallows ready to be dispersed to everyone.
“Hey, Braxton. Good to see you here. Want to help pass out drinks?”
I don’t, not really, but I do it anyways. With a light nod, I help her hand out dozens of small paper cups containing the sugary-sweet liquid.
“I don’t like marshmallows,” a boy says, his crooked front teeth poking out from between his lips.
“Too bad, kid,” I say but Delilah just laughs and takes the cup away from him and hands it to someone else.
“That’s fine, Joey. Here. It’s marshmallow-free.”
He peers over at me, looking mightily pleased, and I roll my eyes at him. Little shit.
“You crack me up,” Delilah says, and I peek over at her.
“That so?”
“Yeah, it’s so. Anyways, here you go,” she says, pushing a cup into my hand. “Light syrup just for you.”
I take the cup reluctantly and follow her onto the trailer just as Jimbob starts up the tractor.
It roars to life loudly and there’s a small jerk of movement when the tractor goes into gear, and then we take off, a slow sloth-like pace around the farm.
The hay is digging into my thighs through my jeans and it’s loud, bumpy, and uncomfortable. But when the kids start singing, a little too loud and slightly off-key, Delilah and Jimbob join in, and I can’t help the stupid smile that comes over my face.
“It’s fun, huh?” Delilah asks me, and I shrug, biting at my bottom lip.
“I guess.”
And then I take a sip of my hot chocolate, feeling cozy and warm with Jimbob’s flannel surrounding me and his hat sitting on my head.
“Do you like it?” Delilah asks me when she catches me sipping the drink she made me.
