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“Well, I didn’t mean to impose, but I’m here now. If you want to, I can help you.”
My hand rubs the back of my neck as I’m feeling somewhat embarrassed. My home is a shithole. It’s dirty and has reallygotten away from me over the years between working and dealing with my mom.
“It’s pretty bad in here,” I say softly, and Jimbob shakes his head, pulling me into him. I inhale and feel the press of his lips against my temple.
“Nothing I haven’t seen. We can get this cleaned up in no time, and then I can start on the outside tomorrow. We can really make this place feel like a home.”
The way he says it, so self-assured makes my eyes sting. I can’t even fucking speak, so I just nod.
“Okay, yeah, let’s do it.”
He smiles at me and pulls me in for a gentle kiss. I nearly melt at the contact and chase his lips when he finally pulls away.
“Ready to get to work?” he asks as he reaches into the wagon and pulls out a pair of rubber gloves.
I feel my lips twitch at how serious he looks and then find myself adjusting my cock as well.
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
ten
. . .
braxton
The endof the day draws near with the two of us nearly drooping from the work we put in. Jimbob is out, making one last run to the dump before returning with dinner, leaving me to organize the pantry.
I’m exhausted, but already the house looks ten times better. Every surface has been scrubbed and everything we didn’t need is gone. The inside looks more open and spacious. Now, I’m thinking of furniture I could replace to make the space even better, prettier, more cozy. Maybe a new rug in the living room and even a throw for the couch. And fuck, maybe even a few plants here and there.
I mean, there’s still a lot of work to be done, but I have a whole week. A whole damn week to redo this place.
To make it more me.
“Got us some tacos from the taco truck in town,” Jimbob says as he pushes the door open, meandering inside. He looks athome here. He always looks so at peace wherever he is. I wonder what that’s like, to be so comfortable in your own skin that you can get along with anyone, anywhere.
That’s never been my thing. I’ve always felt out of place, like a sore thumb sticking out, like a big red flag. Keep away!
Maybe being around Jimbob will even out those sharp edges and insecurities. Maybe Jimbob will make memore.
“Got every kind you can think of, even potato since I didn’t know what you liked.”
“Potato, huh?”
“Yep. Figured if you don’t like it, I’ll eat it. I could put away pretty much anything.”
I nod and turn toward him, leaving the pantry for tomorrow. It can wait. What I want to do is eat some tacos with Jimbob and maybe watch a movie and relax. Yeah, that sounds real nice.
“So, this weekend, I was thinkin’…” he says after consuming a taco at our wobbly old table. “Well, I was thinkin’ you could come help me at the farmer’s market. Ryan is gonna be busy helping watch Beck’s kids while he’s outta town, and my dad is spending the morning with Violet, so it’s just me and my grandpa. And no one wants Gramps to do much. He just scares the customers off.”
I snort a laugh at that, inhaling some cilantro and choking for a minute before regaining myself.
“Sure. I can do that.”
“Awesome. I’ll pick you up bright and early Saturday morning and you can help me set up. I’ll even bring you some coffee. Black. No cream or sugar.”
“Sounds good,” I say, peering over at him and smiling softly. Yeah, it sounds real good, but then I wonder. “Does that mean I won’t see you the rest of the week?”
It’s a dumb question, but I suddenly feel a bit vulnerable. Like maybe he only wants to see me on Saturday and not before then.
