“Plenty of people want to see that,” Breck smirked and leaned back against the counter as he ate, making sure the robe gaped just right. “This place is clothing optional.”
“The resort is clothing optional,” Bastian argued. “Not the staff house.” He edged past Breck distastefully and moved Travis aside to grab two pieces of Chef’s pizza out the fridge.
“I’m with Bastian,” Tex agreed. “We need house rules that include a dress code.”
“No Speedos,” Bastian suggested. “Shoes off at the door.”
“No nudity,” Tex added.
“No cowboy hats,” Breck countered.
“Hey now,” Tex protested. “That’s pretty specific.”
“So is the nudity clause.” Breck went for another slice of the pizza, making Travis realize that he was still standing too close to the door. He sighed, and got his own slice before the fridge door swung closed.
“There are more than two hundred guest beds in this resort,” Graham announced, coming into the kitchen like a storm cloud.
The staff looked at him expectantly, and Travis looked up from taking the first bite of Chef’s pizza-like delicacy to find that the brunt of Graham’s glare was for him.
“And you had to use a flower bed?” Graham finished, biting off every word like it was dirty.
Breck, Tex, and Bastian all drew in theatrical breathes.
“Oh snap,” Breck said. “See, I told you mates were trouble.”
“You’ve smashed your share of flower beds,” Tex reminded him.
“Hush,” Breck said. “Travis is in trouble right now.”
Travis made a sound that might have been a growl and might have been clearing his throat. “Sorry about the garden,” he said, not feeling particularly sorry.
Graham stalked towards Travis, giving him a moment of concern, but opened the refrigerator instead, surveying the options before deciding on the last slice of the pizza.
He gave Travis a look chillier than the air escaping from the fridge and swept back out without another word.
“Dodged a bullet,” Bastian laughed.
“I’m just glad we don’t have to clean up any blood this time,” Breck said, sounding faintly disappointed.
“Thanks for all the backup,” Travis said sarcastically.
“No problem,” Tex said cheerfully, clapping him on the back.
Travis left the house muttering, toolbox in hand, but he was smiling wryly.
The first thing he did was tear up the old decking from the porch at cottage twelve. It was cathartic to destroy it down to the structure, ripping up the previous boards with a crowbar or just his own hands. The next thing was to carry the new boards down from the other job site. With the bar still closed for the morning, Tex helped him haul them down.
“If I see Jenny, I’ll tell her where you are,” the bartender promised.
“Thanks,” Travis told him, then lost himself in setting up the job site, leveling the sawhorses, and running the extension cord for the chop saw and the hose from the compressor.
He felt Jenny before he saw her, the hair at the back of his neck rising to attention as Lynx began to caper in eagerness.
Turning to see her was like a shock of electricity. She looked fresh and well-rested, and so breathtakingly gorgeous that Travis had to shift his hips to give his growing member space in his pants.
“Don’t let me interrupt you,” she said shyly. “I was just… looking for something to do. Some way to help.”
Travis could think of something to do, but knew it wasn’t what she meant. “I’d love your help.”