Having brothers to tease was a lot of fun.
5
Chapter Five
Lunch. It was quickly becoming my favorite meal of the day.
Not to throw shade on Granny’s dinners. Those were amazing. But sitting down with Ollie every day for an hour to ninety minutes of adult conversation with a bubbling undercurrent of sexual tension was incredible. We’d met up three times so far. The two missed meetups were due to him being called out for police work. Thankfully, nothing too dangerous. Not since Chris and I had been dating had I felt this desired. And even then, not to this level. Ollie Ahoka did not do demure games. He let me know that he wanted to get to know me better—in all ways—with touches, smiles, and outrageously sexual innuendos.
Friday at noon, we met at the Calico, which had become our norm. Dahn was just down the street, partaking in a twirling class, so I had the full ninety minutes to enjoy this slow-burn seduction Ollie was perpetrating.
We took our usual seat and smiled at Lolly, who had a teenage girl tagging along in her wake.
“This is Paula, and she’s in training,” Lolly explained and then sent the girl to fetch two coffees.
“Make mine an iced coffee. It’s so hot that one of Granny’s chickens laid an omelet this morning,” I quipped. Ollie snickered and held up two fingers to signal he’d like a cool drink as well. Lolly yelled the order change to the nervous girl with the thick Ariana Grande ponytail. “She’s going to work after school. I think she’ll do okay if she just slows down a little. She sips energy drinks like nonstop!”
“I’m sure she’ll work out just fine,” I replied as Paula skidded up to the table with two cups of coffee. One slid off her tray and landed right in Ollie’s lap. He leaped to his feet. I gasped, Lolly yelped, and Paula began to cry. It was pure bedlam for a moment until Ollie began chortling while dabbing at his crotch with a handful of napkins.
“It’s fine. That’s the quickest I’ve cooled off in ages,” he said while Paula ran into the kitchen wailing. Lolly ran to get a rag as the other diners watched in various stages of amusement. “I think I need to go change. Would you like to have something to eat at my place? It’s five minutes away?”
“Sure, that sounds fine.” I got to my feet just as Lolly arrived with a cloth in one hand and a takeout dish in the other.
“Marcus in the kitchen said to give you both the lunch special free of charge and that he will pay to dry clean your uniform. Do you want me to dry you off?”
“No, no, I think the napkins got the worst of it,” Ollie was quick to say. Lolly looked visibly disappointed. “Tell Marcus thank you for the food and not to be too hard on Paula. I’m not worried about the dry-cleaning bill. This is far from the worst that I’ve had on my uniform.”
I plucked the bag from her hand, thanked her for her help, and followed Ollie out into the blistering sun.
“I think my balls have climbed up into my body so far they’re now nestled by my spleen,” Ollie tossed out as we made our way back to the sheriff’s office.
“Ice on the crotch will do that,” I replied, wondering if I should suggest how happy I would be to warm them up for him.
“It did dampen the ardor I was feeling sitting there staring into your pretty hazel eyes.” His groin might be soaking wet and chilly but mine was aflame. “Why don’t you follow me? I can change into a clean uniform, and we’ll see what Marcus gave us.”
“Perfect. Lead on.” I hoped he picked up on the double meaning in my reply. I’d be happy to let this lawman lead in more than just driving. Dancing and bed play came to mind. I did love having a big man take the initiative.
We made our way from Main Street down one of the thin side streets where rows of older but neatly kept homes sat on small plots of mowed grass. Ollie pulled up into the narrow drive of a soft blue rancher. The flowerbeds were tidy, the lawn rich and green, and the shutters were dark blue. He even had flower boxes filled with petunias.
I pulled up behind him, got out of my car, and grabbed the takeout boxes from the cab seat behind me.
“You have a nice home,” I said as I neared him.
“Thanks. I like it. It’s a little on the older side, but it’s close to town yet far enough away that I can have a yard to putter around in. Come on inside.”
He motioned me toward the white front door and slid around me to unlock it. “After you.” He pushed the door open for me. I stepped into a cool, dark room. He entered behind me, closed the door, and reached out to open one of the drapes slightly, allowing the sun to shine in. His living room was very much him. Masculine furniture in shades of brown and blue, a sofathat looked well used, a large TV on the wall, a pair of recliners on either end of the couch, and a dark wooden coffee table with matching accent tables. On the walls were brightly colored modern art oils that grabbed the eye. Native tribal artwork with bold brushstrokes in deep red, indigo, and russet that formed an abstract face with a sharply pointed nose. It was quite good.
Off to the left was a hallway with a few doors, which I assumed were bedrooms and a bath or two. The kitchen sat at the far end of the living room, and the area was wide and open with shiny appliances. The house smelled of tobacco and pine.
“Make your way to the kitchen table. I’ll be right out.” He gave me a warm smile and walked down the hall to enter the first door on the right. I did as directed, toting the takeout to the round table with a vase of hearty sunflowers in the middle. Everything was neat and in its place. The opposite of the Bastian Acres Ranch house, which was a chaotic mess no matter how hard you tried to keep things picked up. There were days I felt I was the only person in that sprawling home who even tried to organize or clean up.
I peeked out the window over the sink to the fenced-in back yard. A couple of tall trees shaded a round table, grill, and a birdbath. Flowers bloomed in pots that hung from the wooden slats of the fence in large clay pots painted in brilliant colors. A shepherd’s hook held a hummingbird feeder where dozens of ruby-throated hummers zoomed in to take a sip and then fly off. Such a serene-looking lot. I could easily see myself sitting at the table in the evenings, sipping a beer, my bare feet resting on Ollie’s thighs as Dahn practiced his beloved twirling. I sighed dreamily. That was all I had ever wanted out of life. A man who loved being domestic.
“That was a heavy sigh. Was the food not to your liking?” Ollie asked from behind me. I turned from the beauty of his back yard to gape at the beauty of the man himself. He was big, beefy, withshoulders as wide as the doorway, it seemed, a trim waist, and a six pack. There was a light covering of hair on his pecs that led down into the waistband of those perfectly fitted tan slacks. His shoulder bore a white scar that stood out against his bronze skin. He held a white tee in his left hand. When I stood there gawking, he flexed a pec for me. “Enjoying the view?”
“Oh yes,” I whispered, unsure if he meant the yard or the gorgeous male in front of me, but I’d freely admit to enjoying both. “You’re in good shape.”
“Thanks. I work out.” He closed the distance, tossing the T-shirt to the back of one of the kitchen chairs. I didn’t move from my spot by the sink as he stepped closer and closer until his bare chest was so close I could touch it. My sight went back to that surgery scar, fingers itching to trace it as my mouth went dry. “I like your shape too. Lean, strong. And that red hair. Holy shit, that drives me crazy. I’ve been dreaming of you at night, watching as you rub these ginger whiskers along my balls before you take me into your mouth.”
