Page 15 of Big Britches

“Yes.” Pedro nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Titus raised a finger, tilting his head.

“Yes, T,” Pedro corrected. “That sounds good. I’ll see you in three hours.”

“But promise me one thing,” Titus said, dropping his hand from Pedro’s shoulder. “That you’ll drink plenty of water. It’s gonna be a scorcher. Hell, already is. If you didn’t bring enough, the door to the guest house is unlocked and the fridge in there is stocked. Beer too. Help yourself to one of those if you want.”

“Oh. I—I couldn’t.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. You’re worried about Silas finding out. Well, he ain’t gonna, and you’ll trust me on that, eventually. Once you know me. I know this is all new and I understand that it’s your livelihood, so I won’t press. I just want you to feel comfortable here, Pedro. I use Compton’s Greenscapes because it’s the only landscaping company in Spoon. Doesn’t mean Silas and me are buddies. If my Daddy wasn’t mayor, I’d take my business to his competition over in Morehead. I see all this–” Titus gestured to the grounds surrounding them, “–as more of a partnership between me and you. Silas was just the means of making it happen. Inside the gate is my sanctuary, and you’re welcome to consider it asylum for yourself, too. Just make my place beautiful, P. That’s all I ask. That, and maybe a little conversation sometimes.”

Pedro smiled. “I will, T. I promise.”

“Good. Oh, and there’re swimsuits in there too. And towels. If you get too hot…” He gestured toward the pool.

Pedro’s stammer returned. “I—I couldn’t,” he managed.

“Suit yourself. I don’t mind at all, though, and would probably join you. Gotta beat this heat somehow, and I trust you in managing your time. I have something I need to do right now, though, so I’ll see you at noon.”

He turned to go and Pedro’s gaze fell from the wide shelf of Titus’s shoulders down the V of his back to the bulging globes nestled beneath that wrapped towel, shifting pendulously with the sway of his barefoot stride across the lush green fescue.

Pedro felt lightheaded.

What just happened?

Titus had left as quickly as he had arrived. He had greeted, confided, and perhaps even flirted a little with Pedro all within the space of five minutes. Then, as equally fast, he had whisked his stunningly stupefying form away, leaving Pedro dazed and confused from the encounter.

My God, he—he’s…

“Beautiful,” Pedro whispered.

He shook his head, trying his best to dispel the distraction—and any lingering lustful notions—on his part.

He invited you for a swim.

“As if,” he said, heading for the truck and his tools.

Four

Titus entered the house, greeted by the chilly embrace of air conditioning. He closed the French doors behind him. He was still wet, and the icy tendrils of water clinging to his skin were a welcome contrast to the undeniable heat now burgeoning within himself.

You need to calm down, big guy. He’s here to seed your yard, not you.

True.

But Titus could not stop thinking about those dark brown eyes, and how that enticing blush kept returning, creeping up Pedro’s neck and face, an unconscious revelation of?—

Of what?

He thought about his conversation with Roz earlier, and how he’d joked about pizza delivery.

No way. It can’t be that easy.

Glancing across the shadowed room, he saw a framed picture of himself and Violet on the bookshelf. It was from their senior prom. They were both smiling, young, and in love. Titus had always attributed Violet’s wry smirk in the photo to her secretly knowing she was pregnant with Tucker.

Now, it took on a whole new interpretation.

“Just what’re you up to, Violet?” Titus said aloud in the empty room.