Page 12 of Don't Scare Me, My Love

He handed her the receipt from the break room, and she examined it. Her eyes darted between the numbers on it and the small manholes on the asphalt in front of her. “Let’s fire her up.” She walked to the side of the truck, opened the door of a small box attached to it, and did something I couldn’t see. She came back up and unlocked a safety guard that looked like one from a roller coaster that goes over your shoulders. As the guard came up, the truck hissed.

Jason watched her, and I watched Jason. He pressed his arms into his hips and turned his back to me as if he wanted to show off his butt.

I shook my head. I shouldn’t be staring at him so dreamily while I’m at work. My eyes wandered around the station.

There had to be something I could do to make myself useful. To prove to myself that my gut feeling about being here wasn’t just about this man.

THREE

THE BET

JASON

Pam wasa sweetheart who I’ve known for eight years now. She was the first person to deliver gas when I took over the station. I knew little about the gas business back then, and although Pam raised her eyebrows at me when I didn’t even know where to get the meter ticket, she was kind enough not to treat me like the greenhorn I was.

At most gas stations across the country, truckers were treated like casual workers who come and go in a matter of minutes. Their job was on the road, not where their product was sold. Since my gas station wasn’t part of a larger franchise but was family-owned—which sounds ridiculous, considering it was just me—it didn’t take long for the drivers to know the weird, eye-patched mountain man. And I got to know some of them who made the trip regularly, too.

Whether they were Seastone veterans or new to the area, everyone got the same treatment. They had just endured a terrible ride through the mountains, so a hot beverage on the house was the least I could do to make their day a little better—which was probably one reason I got to see Pam every other month.

Confident that I knew the drill, she handed me four orange cones. I did my part by arranging them around her so that anyone who came by wouldn’t drive into her. Meanwhile, she took the lid covers and caps off the drops. I placed the last cone to the left in case someone came from behind the gas station and glanced inside to check how Nicholas was doing, holding down the fort.

The counter was empty.

I searched the aisles for his face, but there was no sign of him.

Where was he?

“Pam,” I said as she pulled a stick three times her length out of the side of her truck. “I’ll be inside. Do you want anything?”

“A winning lottery ticket and a new husband. But I'll also take a latte if you don’t have the rest, sweetie.”

My feet had already taken me halfway to the pumps. “I see what I can do.”

I wanted to make sure I didn't let my dick influence me negatively when it told me to hire Nicholas. I didn't think he was up to anything, but it's better to be safe than sorry.

He seemed like a nice guy, and his former bosses sang his praises. They even cleared up any doubts I had by telling me they had similar experiences with him. He just turned up out of nowhere and asked if he could apply without even having an address in the city. Everyone was suspicious at first, but within hours, he proved to be an asset. They were all sad when he left after a few months to seek new opportunities, but he always gave them four weeks’ notice and worked hard until the last day.

But what do I know?

The bell above the door rang as I hurried inside. Our coffees were still on the counter, steaming and waiting for us to return. My eyes darted around, but all I could see were Halloween decorations and snacks.

“Nicholas?”

“Here.”

His voice led me to the hallway behind the counter where the restrooms were. I walked past the coffee station, and as I turned around the corner, his head popped out of the women’s stall—which might have given off the wrong impression if Jack hadn’t texted me last night that they had run into each other and it had been confirmed that Nicholas was gay.

He beamed at me. “Do you have any tools in the shed?” My face must have spoken volumes because he quickly lost the smile and pointed to the restroom. “I noticed the dripping faucet and tried to turn it off, but the seal was leaking. If you want, I can fix that. It’s probably a worn washer or gasket.”

My chest felt lighter after his explanation.

Maybe it wasn’t a terrible decision to give him a chance. I can’t deny that I agreed for all the wrong reasons, but to see that he took the job seriously and tried to be of help this soon was a pleasant surprise. Still, I narrowed my eyes out of habit.

“Oh, sorry.” Nicholas hid his hands behind his back. “I just wanted to make myself useful and explore the shop to familiarize myself with everything.”

“Don’t let my grumpy face discourage you. Sometimes, I’m just an idiot who can’t control his facial muscles.” I tried to put on a smile that I was sure looked like a frowning, forced mess. “Come on, let’s make a latte for Pam, and then I’ll show you where the tools are.”

This was going to be an interesting day.

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