“I’ve gotta go,” Tom said weakly, unable to revive his anger under the weight of Cypress’s words. He knew he was right. “I gotta get back to work.”
“Okay.” Cypress respectfully backed away and pulled out his phone. “Phone number?”
“Money first,” Tom argued, trying to regain his composure.
“Fair enough.” Cypress smirked, walking back around the counter to the register. He opened the drawer and retrieved the thick wad of cash.
Tom snatched it away as soon as he could reach it.
“Now, phone number?” Cypress asked again.
“Eight two seven, four three one three.” Tom waited until he got a text from an unknown number, reading the message out loud, “You have a cute butt?”
“Aw, thanks. So do you.” Cypress grinned.
Though he still felt a bit unsettled, Tom let himself laugh. “Fuck, you’re crazy.”
“That makes two of us.” Cypress kissed him, brief but sweet, asking, “Still on for Saturday?”
“Yeah. I’ll text you my address.” Tom hesitated to leave. “You still really wanna go out with me?”
“If you decided to walk out of here and pretend none of this ever happened, I would respect your decision,” Cypress replied, leaning his hip against the counter. “I would be disappointed, but I’m not going to force you to continue if you’re not genuinely interested.”
“Says the guy who’s blackmailing me,” Tom scoffed.
“Says the guy who actually wants me to blackmail him so he can enjoy himself without taking any responsibility or admitting how badly he wants it,” Cypress shot back.
“You… you… Tom flushed. “You shut your hot mouth.”
“Uh huh.” Cypress smirked triumphantly.
“I’m going now.”
“Goodbye, Tom.”
“Bye.” Tom quickly burst through the door, stumbling in his haste to get out to his car. He caught a glimpse of Cypress turning the sign back to open before he drove off, pausing at a stop sign to catch his breath.
Cypress was right, that beautiful bastard.
Tom had no idea what they were doing except he liked it, but it made everything so much easier if he told himself he was only doing it because he had to. Otherwise, he would have to admit that he enjoyed Cypress ordering him around, telling him what to do, getting spanked…
God, why was it all so hot?
Despite the pending dread of having to deal with Junior and the frustrations of trying to make sense of his new intimate situation, Tom was in a great mood. The smell of Cypress’s cologne, the lingering taste of his lips, and the impressions left by his hands were all a delicate armor clinging to his skin, and he felt amazing. He was refreshed, revitalized, and ready to get back to work.
Damn.
Maybe he should go visit Cypress for lunch every day.
Tom checked in with Earl to let him know he was back from lunch and returned to the prep room. He decided it was close enough to the scheduled time to move Mr. Powell for his viewing, rolling him up front into the small viewing room.
Miss Wheel was on the phone, but she waved hello. “Yes, I assure you we’ve taken care of the chicken situation. No, ma’am, the chicken was not actually in with the casket. We pride ourselves on treating every family with love and respect.”
Tom chuckled to himself on the way back to the prep room, delighted to find their hairdresser, Miss Edie, hard at work on Mrs. Winslow. She knew all the codes to the building, and it wasn’t unusual for her to let herself in.
“Hey, baby!” she gushed, flashing a smile that rivaled the sun. She was small and bright, and she had been doing hair for the funeral home longer than Tom had been alive on this planet. It was impossible to tell how old she was because she covered any trace of gray with colorful blonde highlights. She always had a glowing tan from going to the beach and working in her garden, but there was not a wrinkle to be found anywhere on her sweet face.
Despite the prep room safety rules, she always wore flip-flops and swore to haunt anyone who ever tried to bury her in flats or heels.
