Page 30 of Small Town Daddy

I’d always kept the store small, resisting the urge to take on staff. Didn’t like the idea of being responsible for the livelihoods of others. I always just shut the store when I couldn’t work. Everyone in town knew me, and I’d leave my cell number on the door. It would be strange having someone else working with me today.

"So, where do you want me to start, boss?" Lucy asked, her green eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

I swallowed hard, trying to focus on the task at hand and not how beautiful she looked in the soft store lighting, and how weirdly good it felt to have her call me “boss”. "Let's, uh, start with inventory. I'll show you the system."

As I led her to the back office, I couldn't shake the feeling that today was going to be a day unlike any other at Wilkins' Hardware.

I guided Lucy through our inventory system, impressed by how quickly she picked it up. Her background in accounting shone through as she effortlessly navigated the spreadsheets.

"You're a natural," I said, unable to keep the admiration from my voice.

Lucy beamed at me. "Thanks! It's not so different from what I used to do. Just with more . . . nuts and bolts involved. Everything’s all numbers, when you get down to it."

We shared a laugh, and I felt a warmth spread through my chest. Working alongside her felt so natural, so right.

Throughout the morning, I showed her the ropes—from restocking shelves to helping customers find obscure items. Her infectious enthusiasm seemed to brighten the whole store.

"Marcus, where do you keep the . . . galvanized screws?" she called out from aisle three.

I walked over, pointing to a high shelf. "Right up there. Need a hand?"

Lucy's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Nope, I've got this." She stretched up on her tiptoes, her shirt riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of skin. I quickly averted my gaze, my face burning.

An elderly woman approached us, smiling warmly. "My, what a lovely couple you two make," she remarked.

I felt my face flush even deeper. "Oh, we're not—" I started to say, but Lucy cut me off.

"Thank you," she said, linking her arm through mine. "We make a pretty good team, don't we?"

I looked down at her, surprised. She winked at me, and I couldn't help but laugh awkwardly.

As the woman walked away, Lucy whispered, "Sorry, I couldn't resist. Did I make you uncomfortable?"

I shook my head, still chuckling. "No, just . . . surprised. You're full of them today, aren't you?"

She grinned. "Keep you on your toes, that's my motto."

I watched her walk away, feeling a mix of emotions I couldn't quite name. What was I getting myself into?

The old clock on the wall chimed noon, its familiar tone echoing through the store. I caught Lucy's eye and nodded towards the back. "Lunch break?"

She smiled, setting down the pricing gun. "I'm starving."

We retreated to the cramped break room, its worn wooden table barely big enough for two. I pulled out a chair for Lucy, wincing at the scrape against the linoleum floor.

"Such a gentleman," she teased, settling in.

I sat across from her, suddenly hyper-aware of how close our knees were under the table. Lucy picked at her sandwich, her eyes downcast. The easy banter from earlier had evaporated, leaving a charged silence.

Finally, she looked up, her green eyes meeting mine. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about last night," she admitted softly.

My heart hammered in my chest. I exhaled slowly, relieved she'd broached the subject. "Neither have I," I confessed. "I hope I didn't overstep any boundaries."

She shook her head quickly. "No, not at all. It was . . . nice. It felt right."

We shared a shy smile, and I felt like a teenager again.

“You know,” she said, “I’ve been thinking about the age difference.”

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