Hiya, snippet lovers!
Here’s another taste from Scotty’s POV. Last week Mick was waylaid on his way out to lunch. I’m skipping over some smexy bits and to Mick’s return to the yard.
I hit Send on this baby, so (since it’s not likely to change anytime soon) I’ll share the title: A Love Type Thing. (Yep, from the STP song, “Sex Type Thing.”)
Mick came back and headed straight for the coffee pot; he didn’t look happy to begin with, but his face got all stony, like Gramps’s when he had to bail Scotty out of a jam for fighting. Even with anger etching lines in his face and the sadness in his eyes, Mick was a good-looking man. His eyes and hair were dark brown but not black, and his jeans rode low on his hips, showing slices of lightly tanned skin as he worked. Mercy had a cute little turned-up nose, but Mick’s was stronger and a little beakish, it made Scotty wonder if he’d be firm all over.
Maybe Mick smelled sex in the shop; that might be a problem for anyone—the boss’s kid getting his rocks off on the clock. People said it was possible, but Scotty had never smelled sex in a room so he wasn’t sure. He felt a little like punching something, so it was a good thing Gramps came back. He didn’t want to start something like that with Mick, not really, but sometimes it felt better than being confused.
Thanks for reading!
Now that Mick & Co. are off in Slushville, next week I’ll probably move on to something else. I have a Dec. 1 deadline for an expanded version of the witch story and as of today, I need all the help I can get with that one. No lie.
Enjoy the rest of your weekend!