“Who, me?” She points at herself.
“Yes, you.” I walk into the back office, expecting it to look like a crime scene of mail, invoices, and shipping labels. It doesn’t though. There are a few things that are stacked neatly on my desk. Apparently, Ruthie took over everything and didn’t leave me with much to clean up.
“You did way more than you let on, didn’t you?” I ask her as I walk back out of the office and into the main area.
“I did no such thing. Shit came in, and it was easy to do. Plus, Stella was here, and I was able to do the office work while she dealt with the customers. Now, stop busting my chops. Jeesh, you’re as bad as Jasper.” She gives me her knowing eyes. Something tells me her son has told her way more than I’ve let on, but I’m not mad about it. Though, if I don’t tell my mom, she really will be down here, along with Rowen and Peyton. That would be a mess of tacos and margaritas, plus the fun of my sisters. Yeah, I’ll have to see when Berkley and the girls want to come down. Hopefully, that will happen soon.
Ruthie and I start clearing a space for us to work on merchandise, adding tags, scanning the clothing into the system, and then finding new, fashionable ways to put it in the storefront will be the last order of business.
It’s not too long before our delivery arrives, and we get sucked into oohing and aahing over the fall line that just came out. All of us at Vintage Threads are suckers for clothes, and the new inventory is right up our alley. Stella comes in, and even she can’t help but stare at the new beauties. That’s how we spend our day well into the early evening until everything is done and ready for a new day tomorrow.
We all say our goodbyes and make our way out of the store. My one and only thought is making it home, grabbing a shower, and waiting to see if I’ll get a FaceTime call from Jasper.TwoJasperToday must be a Monday, not like it matters much anyway when you’re out working on an oil rig. I’m seven days in and pissed as hell. I missed Aspen coming home and being the one to pick her up. Not like her and I can control what’s going on around us, but it sucks just the same.
My only thoughts right now are focused on getting to hear her sweet voice tonight and if we can have a repeat performance from last night. My body is already aching at the thought of that, and not for the first time I’m thankful as hell that I rigged up an outdoor shower so I can clean up before heading into the travel trailer I purchased last year. There was no way I intended to stay in the cramped-style housing our company provides, which is what I did up until last year. It sucked. My soul purpose was getting to the point in my career where I had money in the bank. I lived the frugal bachelor lifestyle, no home to tie my name to, my truck paid off. I only had an apartment in town and my mom to take care of, which she never let me do anyway. So, now I have a nice chunk of change put away. Even with paying for the travel trailer in cash. Not that it’s the best of the best. That’s not what I’m about. Especially because it’s just me. I was more worried about having a space of my own, not what it looks like. This way, I can eat food I like, sleep without four other guys sawing logs, and talk to Aspen when I want without anyone interrupting.
I turn the water on. In no way, shape, or form am I taking a cold shower. Thank God I parked at an offsite camp and have all the hookups here, even if we do have to pay a monthly fee. It’s well worth it, not having to deal with making sure there’s enough propane to take a hot shower or cook dinner. That shit is not for me. While I wait for the hot water to kick in, I untie the laces of my steel-toe boots before stepping out of them, place my hard hat off to the side on the bench, my shoes go under, and then I strip out of my flame resistant coveralls. By the time I take off my white shirt and boxer briefs, the water is steaming hot and I’m ready for it to pour down onto my sore and tired muscles.
My mind goes back to when Aspen and I FaceTimed and the way she looked last night. Her hair was piled high on top of her head, a few tendrils falling out of its holder here and there. Her light pink top showed off her smooth pale skin, a contrast to my skin that’s been darkened by the sun. My eyes roamed over to the top that barely held those phenomenal tits of hers up, just barely.