I let out an affirmative grumble. “Then let’s try this again.”
I shut the door, wait a beat, then open it and offer Tally my hand. She takes it, climbing out. All the while, she looks at me like I hung the moon.
“I can’t remember the last time a guy opened a door for me,” she confesses.
“You’ve been around the wrong sort of man, Trouble.”
She gives me a heated glance. “I’m startin’ to think you’re right.”
My cock is getting the smart idea to bend her over the tailgate, but I don’t want to traumatize the old fella sitting behind the till inside the gas station store. That sorta indecency is bound to give him a stroke.
I settle for giving Tally’s plump ass a light smack and she squeaks. “While I pump gas, I want you to pick out your favorite snacks and put ‘em by the checkout.”
“Okay!” she beams and walks toward the entrance, hips swaying. Damn, I sure hate to see her leave but love to watch her go.
Groaning, I adjust my throbbing dick. If she keeps this up, we ain’t gonna make it much further today.
The smellof tobacco and dust hits me as I walk into the gas station. The hunched old fella behind the till straightens his suspenders and greets me with a wave of his pipe. Then he dunks his bony hand into a huge jar on the counter. His long, nicotine-stained nails skewer a pickled egg like claws.
Okay, that’s gross. No eggs for us today.
I glance around. This is one of those family-owned places that has a little bit of everything, even a rack of dusty cowboy hats and faded ‘I LOVE TN’T-shirts by the checkout.
The toiletries could be considered rare vintage collectibles. I think I spot a shampoo brand that went out of production a decade ago. Guess they don’t get many customers out here. The freshest thing in the store is a basket with tomatoes and cucumbers. Home-grown, I bet.
Tally browses a magazine rack and I join her. Most issues are months outdated; some are from last year.
“Didn’t know you were interested in uh… Modern Yachting?” I ask.
She smirks conspiratorially. “I’m not.”
I give her a questioning stare, but she doesn’t say anything more. “Keep your secrets then. Did you pick out what you want?”
“Yeah, left everything on the counter. Money, too.”
I bark a laugh. “You ain’t paying for shit when we’re together.”
“But—”
“I don’t give a fuck how much more money you make. My wife doesn’t pay for her things, I do. Better get used to it cause that’s another ofmyrules.”
Her mouth shuts with a toothy clack and I grin triumphantly.
“I’ll grab some stuff too and then I’ll pay.You’ll get your cash back in the truck,” I say decisively and turn on my heel.
I check the beers, but Tally already picked up my favorite brand, which happens to be her favorite as well. I add a bottle of bourbon to the selection. She also chose a box of chocolates, jerky, and a handful of single packed, extra-large pickles. I grab coke and energy drinks, plus a packet of sour gummy worms for her and BBQ chips for me.
The store owner clears his throat. I follow his stare to Tally, who has wandered toward the candy section, lingering suspiciously. She’s entirely oblivious to being watched, picking up random packets of gum then putting them back down.
What the fuck is she doing…Wait,is she going to steal a packet of gum?
God, she could not be any more obvious. She frowns like she’s seriously pondering which flavor screams criminal mastermind.
Finally, she palms a packet of bright blue bubblegum and slowly opens the zipper of her purse. The owner puts down his pipe.
Fuck, she’s gonna get caught.
20
