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“It’s a Kansas classic. Made by old Earl in his basement.”
“You’re shitting me,” Braxton says, his eyes wide, and I let out a loud laugh.
“Yeah, I am just kiddin’. Sorry. Earl makes moonshine, not wine.”
“Jesus,” Braxton says, but his lips twitch at my silly joke.
“I’ll bring you some sometime, but you gotta be careful. That stuff is potent. It’ll knock you out real good.”
“Sure. I guess I could try it. But only if you’re there with me. I’m not gonna drink it alone. That just seems kind of pathetic.”
I can’t help the smile on my face. It just won’t go away, not when he’s around. “Sure, I can do that. It’ll be fun.”
He nods and then sips on his wine as he follows me outside. I’ve pulled up a chair for him, and he lowers himself in it as I grill up the chicken and veggies. We make small talk about how work went for him today and what I managed to accomplish on the farm before I close the grill and bring the food inside. When we settle at the kitchen table, I scoop him up a healthy plate of veggies and taters.
He glances down at it. “This is a lot. You trying to stuff me full?”
My cheeks flame at the double meaning.
“Nah, just want you to eat well.”
“I eat plenty, but yeah, usually it’s frozen dinners or canned shit.”
“Well, you can always come here and I’ll make you something like this. I love my grill. Bought it two years ago and use it most days. Makes things like this real easy.”
He nods and digs in, moaning softly as he eats, and it makes me shift in my chair, trying to focus on the meat on my plate and not the meat in his pants.
“Maybe you could teach me how to use the grill sometime,” Braxton says around a bite of potatoes, and I nod.
“Could totally do that. It’s a real art form.”
“I can see that. This is really damn good.”
I blush at the compliment and we continue to make small talk, me carrying most of the conversation, but I don’t mind. I like just hearing him talk. I love the sound of his voice, low and rumbling.
When we’re done, Braxton leans back and finishes off his wine, looking a little flushed. Maybe I poured him too large of a glass, but he didn’t say nothing, so I figured it was fine.
“Feeling that wine, Jimbob,” Braxton says, his eyes bright.
“Yeah, you a lightweight? Maybe I shouldn’t bring you to Earl’s place for some moonshine. You’ll be passed out in minutes.”
He snorts. “Not everyone can be so big like you, Jimothy.”
“What in the world?” I say with a chuckle.
“That’s what I thought your name was. Jimothy Bobert. Remember?”
“Oh yeah, I do. That’s silly.”
“Sure is. Just like you. A silly man.”
He wets his lips and then his eyes travel from my face to my crotch.
“We gonna have dessert?” he asks, his voice low.
I’m trying to keep my head on my shoulders, but the way he’s lookin’ at me is making me all sorts of things.
“I mean, I made some cake earlier. And we have the pie…”
