I think it was something about the way she looked when she drove her truck.
I'm not going to lie and say that it wasn't also her strong shoulders, the way she exuded confidence or the way she made butterflies flutter in my stomach at the mere mention of her name, but it was definitely the sexy way she looked when she drove her truck that first made me look twice.
Working at a farm stand isn't perk-free. You get to be outside for most of the day, there's no greasy fast food smell hanging on your skin that's pretty much a given if you work at a fast food chain like my best friend, Toni, or whiny kids and even whinier parents you find at the local pool where my other best friend, Chris, works. Sure, sometimes you get uppity yuppies rolling in from the suburbs who want to impress you with their knowledge of pesticides and "country living" but for the most part, you see the same faces week to week and mostly, they're happy to see you and whatever's been hauled into the stand.
Hauling isn't really part of my job description, but I do my fair share of it. That and making sure everything in the stand is clean, making change and keeping an eye on the kids who are "just looking" to stick a few apples into their pockets or a couple of pints of berries into their backpacks.
But for the most part, like I said, everyone is pretty cool. I get to bring home a lot of good stuff for free, plus Maude, one of the owners, makes amazing lunches for the hands and there's always enough for me, too. Plus when it's slow, I can sit outside and work on my tan.
But free cornbread and chili got nothing on the perk of getting to see Her every Sunday morning. I can't think of a better way to start the week. She rolls up in an old black pickup, throws open the door and the first things you get to see are those boots. I can't say that I ever really paid that much attention to a woman's shoes before, I mean, other than the cute sandals that have me asking the owner's where they got them. They're just old work boots, I'm sure I've seen a thousand pairs by now, but on her, there's something about them. Maybe it's that they're always moving. She strolls through the stand, eyeing everything, sizing it all up. She always loads up on vegetables, tossing cucumbers and squash back and forth between her calloused hands. When I'm adding up her total, she leans against the counter and at least one of those boots is tapping or kicking or shuffling along the floor.
Not like when I'm bagging up her lettuce and radishes I'm honestly paying that much attention to her feet. Mostly I stare at those calloused hands, which are sometimes more caked with dirt than not but her fingernails are always perfectly clean. You could eat off them, a thought that has crossed my mind more than once and invariably while she's towering over me, that half smile playing at her lips. Her lips are another part of her I can't stop staring at and she can't seem to stop moving. She's always chewing on a toothpick, letting it just dangle off to the side, or a hangnail, which I guess makes it a good thing she keeps her nails so clean! I always duck my head and look away, but sometimes I think she has to know I can barely keep myself from drooling.
Drooling is pretty much all my mouth is capable of doing when she's around. I turn into a complete idiot. A simple comment from her on the weather or how great the tomatoes look is all it takes to make my knees weak. Sometimes she'll turn back and give me a wink before hopping back into her truck and that's when I think I could just lie down and die on the dirt floor. Then she strides back up into that truck, starts it up with a rumble and is off for another week.
One of these days, I have to get up the nerve to say something to her...
"I've really been looking forward to the raspberries, I'm glad they're finally in. They look great."
"...Yeah...Great...Raspberries are great." Super. Once again, my wit and charm have come just when I need them. Add that real slick response to the fact that she totally caught me staring at her as she loaded a bag of corn on the cob. And what did she do? Just turned back, stared right back and cocked an eyebrow. I, of course, turned redder than the beets I was arranging.
She just smirks again and pops one into her mouth. "They are pretty great. Have you tried them?"
I nod. "That's one of the perks, you know...Working here." Not my favorite perk, of course, but I don't say that.
"Cathy runs a pretty tight ship, I'm surprised she doesn't dock your pay." She nods at Cathy, who's busy refilling the bin of corn. "Morning, Cath."
"Naw, I just make them chat with the rowdy locals," Cathy replies, with a grin. "Morning, Trey."
"Well, you just have to try and not get caught," I say.
"These are paid for so you won't get in trouble," she says, picking one out of her container and holding it out to me. I start to reach out to take it, but she just keeps lifting it until it's level with my lips.
"You haven't paid yet," I stammer.
"I won't tell if you don't." I part my lips and she slips the berry into my mouth, her thumb resting for a just a second longer than necessary on my bottom lip. Without missing a beat, she brings her thumb up to her own mouth, sucks on it and says, "Yeah, they're good this week."
I feel faint but somehow my mouth manages to get something out. "I'd say they're good every week." I blush even brighter, realizing how this must sound.
"But I've only had them Sunday mornings. I wonder how they are other days of the week, like say, Friday night."
I swallow around the lump in my throat. "Most things are better Friday nights."
She laughs. "An excellent point. What about around 7? I've got all these that I bet I'll need help finishing off."
"They can't be that good if you've still got them Friday night," Cathy jokes, sliding up to the counter to ring up the small group clearly on their way home from early morning mass.
I blush and start to mutter an apology to Cathy about the line but Trey cuts me off, her voice low, "I'd have to say you're worth saving them for. Pick you up at 7?"
I barely manage to nod. "I live right over on State Street, above the Laundromat."
"That's convenient." She nods at the counter in front of us. "So what do I owe you?"
"Oh...Uh, I uh..." I try in vain to quickly add up her purchases, put everything into bags and not notice the way she's looking at me. "Eleven-fifty."
She hands me a twenty and waits patiently as I count back her change. "See you at Friday."
I nod. "Ok."
I don't realize I'm holding my breath until Cathy elbows me and says, "How about you roll that tongue back in and bag some of those turnips for Mrs. Morris?" I glance at her, ready with apologies and promises to not let it happen again, but she just shakes her head and chuckles.
"So what are you going to wear on this big date?" Mrs. Morris asks me, sliding over her stack of vegetables.
I laugh and grab a bag from under the counter.
Of course, what to wear is a serious concern that involves the trying on of at least ten outfits. It doesn't help that I have no idea what we're doing, though I have my own ideas, which lead to a very careful shaving of everything. Chris' banging on the bathroom door is the only thing that gets me to stop fussing over my eye shadow.
"Anna! You've been in there over an hour! I've gotta take a leak!"
"Ok, ok!" I throw open the door.
She pushes past me and yanks down her pants. "Seriously, if you mess around any longer, your eyes are going to fall out."
I roll my eyes. "I'm sure Marji spends just as long and from what I hear, you could stare into her eyes all night." I turn to her and bat my eyes.
She swats me in the ass with a copy of Sports Illustrated that she's brought in with her and shakes her head. "I swear, you all get together and it's just yak yak yak."
I finish washing my hands and flick the water at her before running out of the room and slamming the door behind me.
"Anna Banana, you know it's five to seven, right?" Toni yells to me from the living room.
"Shit!" I run into my room and grab my purse. I pause before the full-length mirror. It's been warm all week, so I settled on a denim skirt and a black tank top with a white button up over it. I slip on a pair of red heels and am doing a last minute check on my mascara when I hear the bell ring.
I stand by the door, my hand hovering on the doorknob. I can hear Trey and Toni talking, but I can't make out what they're saying. I hear Toni's footsteps down the hall and I fling open the door, leaving her with her arm up, just about to knock. "Trey's here."
"I know," I whisper.
"You nervous?" I shake my head but I'm sure my face says it all because Toni just laughs. "You'll be fine. Now get your ass out there, girl, and get going!"
I nod and take a deep breath and then slip past her and head out to the living room.
She stands when I enter the room and offers me a bouquet of sunflowers. "These are for you."
"Thank you," I say.
Toni, the best friend that she is, reappears with a vase full of water. Taking the flowers from me, she gives me a little jab with her elbow towards Trey. "Have fun!" she says brightly.
"Thanks," Trey says, offering her hand. "It was great to meet you, Toni."
"You, too, Trey. Hope to see you again soon," she adds, giving me a Look.
I open the door and feel Trey's hand rest on my lower back, which just about makes me lose my balance. "Your roommate is nice," she says when we're out of earshot of the apartment.
I nod. "I have two, actually. But Chris is in the bathroom." Oh god, why did I say that.
But Trey doesn't seem to notice and steps past me to open the door for me, something I have always loved. "You look beautiful."
"Thank you. You do, too. I mean...Um...You look...You look nice."
Trey just laughs. "I try."
She holds open the door to her truck for me, too, and I try not to flash her my thong and get into the truck without incident. She rests a hand for just a second on my knee before closing the door.
If I thought watching her drive her truck from inside the farm stand was incredible, then I don't even know what to say about getting to watch her up close. She steers with only her right hand, leaning back casually, almost like a movie star with her sunglasses, comfortably nodding along with the music. At this point, I don't care where we go; I think that I could just watch her drive all night.
"I hope you're hungry," she says, flicking on her blinker and slowing to make the turn. I nod. "And I hope you like grilled veggies." I nod again. She laughs. "I figured, since you work at the stand, but I guess that could just be your job. I figured since it's so nice out we could just do a cookout."
"That sounds great." My nervousness is battling my excitement at getting to see where Trey lives. I've heard her say she just bought a house.
She makes the short drive out of town and we turn onto a gravel road. We talk about music, (we both like the Indigo Girls and she likes rock and Melissa Etheridge while I'm more into folk rock and Ani DiFranco), and movies (we both like action but not sci fi).
She pulls up next to an old farmhouse that looks like it's in the process of being redone. She gets out and comes around to get my door for me. "Careful of the driveway...I'm in the process of redoing everything." The image of her atop the tall ladder that's leaning against the house, swinging a hammer, whistling like she sometimes does at the stand, tan and slightly sweaty jumps into my mind. I know one time she came directly from the hardware store and was wearing shorts and just the half-foot of her legs between those boots and her long men's shorts nearly made me charge a customer $555for a $5 bag of cucumbers. I give my head a slight shake and try to smile.
As if reading my mind, she tips her head at me. "Everything ok?"
I stop mid-nod as her hand comes to rest on my low back, which has always been one of my more sensitive areas. That and the back of my neck. A few kisses in either of those places and I'm done.
She leads me around the house to the back, which has an outdoor table that's been set for two, complete with candles and a bottle of wine. "This is so nice," I say, setting my purse down and settling into my chair, which she pushes in for me.
"Thanks," she says. "I'll be right back." She heads into the house and soon reappears with a tray of colorful kabobs. "I didn't know if you were a vegetarian, so I figured I'd just play it safe and do veggies and tofu."
"I'm not, but that's fine."
"I'm not, either," she says, heading over to the grill.
"It was nice of you to think of it," I add.
She grins. "I try."
Dinner is perfect. At first I'm a little nervous, but soon she has me laughing at her stories about various mishaps fixing up the house and she listens so intently when I answer her questions about me. Our hands brush against each other's a few times while we're loading up our plates and each touch gives me goose bumps. The wine also helps get me relaxed and after we've finished eating, we go inside. She leads me through a large kitchen and dining room and into the living room, where I curl up on the couch. "I'll be right back," she says. She returns with a plate of chocolate and fruit and settles next to me.
"You saved the raspberries," I say with a smile.
She shrugs, picking one up. "I told you I would." This time, it's her finger that she runs along my lips. I sigh, part my lips and she slips the cold fruit teasingly just barely inside my mouth and then removes her finger and replaces it with her mouth. Her lips are warm and her tongue pushes the raspberry deeper into my mouth then brushes gently against my tongue before she pulls back. "How is it?" she whispers.
"I think I need another just to be sure."
She grins, picks up another and drags it slowly across my bottom lip before popping it into her mouth and bringing her lips to mine again. The kiss is tart from the raspberry but sweet from the wine. This time when she pulls back, I lean in a little, capture her lips again and I feel her tongue slip back into my mouth. At first the kiss is slow, careful, tentative, her tongue gently sweeping against my lips, curling in my mouth and pulling me closer to her. I sigh into her mouth, which causes her to press harder, push her tongue deeper into my mouth. I feel her hand on the inside of my thigh, slowly making its way up under my skirt.
Her fingers are slowly making their way up higher and higher towards my thong, which is getting wetter and wetter as her tongue continues its gentle dance in my mouth. I feel one finger just barely brush against the lacy material, causing me to let out a little gasp. The finger retreats and I must have pushed back against it, though I can't be sure what I'm doing at this point. My entire body is on fire. Her tongue is now licking along my lips, but she keeps pulling back just a little when I try to kiss her back, leaving me desperate for her mouth. Meanwhile her other hand is gently brushing against the edge of the front of my tank top, since my button up was lost after the second glass of wine. I can feel her thumb teasing along the edge of the material, never dipping below the top of the shirt. And then that one finger brushing against the front of my thong and I'm just about to go crazy. I press again down but her finger is nowhere to be found. "I think maybe we should move this party upstairs," she whispers into my lips.
At this point, I'm willing to agree to move this party to China, and barely make out a breathy, "Ok."
She stands up and helps me to my feet. Taking my hand she leads me up the stairs and into her bedroom, which has candles flickering on the dresser and for a second, I wonder about this and how well she has this evening planned but at that point I couldn't care less. She pulls me into her arms and starts nibbling down my neck, pausing only to pull off my tank top. I feel her fingers working on the buttons of my skirt and within seconds, she's also managed to slip that off. She continues teasing my neck, pressing into me and step by step, I back up until the backs of my knees hit the bed. Carefully she keeps leaning until we fall onto the bed, her knee landing perfectly between my legs. I press up against it, getting desperate for some direct contact on my pussy. Apparently she has her own ideas, though, because she removes her knee and begins slowly kissing down my neck, around my collarbone and around the edge of my bra.
I begin trying to get her clothes off, but my current position has me at a distinct disadvantage. I manage to pull on her button-down enough so that she finally pauses to pull away from me and slip it off. While she's doing this, I take the opportunity to sit up and set to work on her belt buckle. She laughs and quickly discards her shirt, pushes my hands away and presses me back down on the bed.
"What do you think you're doing?" Her voice is warm on my ear as she nibbles my earlobe.
"Trying to get your pants off," I reply breathily.
"And why would you want to do something like that?" By this point, my fingers are curling under her t-shirt, trying to get that off, too. She chuckles. "You just want to get all my clothes off, huh?"
"All mine are off," I point out.
"Not all of them."
"All the good ones."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that." But she pulls off her t-shirt, revealing incredible arms that up until this point I have only been able to admire from the elbow down, and perfect six-pack abs. She is still wearing a sports bra, but I am too distracted for the moment to try to get that off. I run my fingers up and down her abs, kissing the parts that my fingers aren't busy with. "Happy now?"
I nod but I've already made my way back up to that damn sports bra and am just about to start pulling it off when she gently gathers my fingers and slips hers between them. She presses me back down on the bed, our fingers still interlocked and now above our heads. She presses them just hard enough onto the bed. "I think we're even now."
I start to shake my head and point out that she still has her jeans on but she cuts me off with her lips. This time her kiss is more direct, her tongue dips in and out of my mouth, deeper and deeper. Her hips are thrusting down into mine to the same rhythm set by her tongue. Slowly she pulls her mouth away from mine and brings it down to my neck, to my collarbone and then lower. She kisses my breasts around my bra and then begins to gently nip and pull the material down until one of my nipples appears over the top. She has by this point also slipped her index finger into my mouth and is sliding it around, moving it in and out just as she had been doing with her tongue. She gently bends and pulls her finger down so that I'm looking down into her eyes. Not breaking eye contact, she sticks out the tip of her tongue and barely brushes it against my nipple. I gasp and bite down on her finger. Still keeping my eyes on her, she pulls my nipple into her mouth and sucks gently. I let out another gasp. Her other hand has pulled my other nipple out and is rolling and pulling on it. Her finger slides from my mouth and I feel her eyelashes flutter against my skin. The finger that was in my mouth is now making its slow way down my side and to the edge of my thong. I feel my bra being pulled away and hear it hit the floor as her mouth sucks harder on my nipple before she switches over to the other.
Both hands are now gently running along the edge of my thong and her lips are making their way down my chest and over my stomach. I glance down to see her pulling at my thong with her teeth, then her hands come up and she pulls it down excruciatingly slowly off my legs and tosses it to the floor. I hear her let out a sigh.