Lukas
Ihave a little time before I’m due at the shop, so I walk Parker across the street, refusing to take the truck for about the tenth time this morning. I finally convince her to keep it by reminding her that this way she can run home for more clothes and check on that neighbor’s dog she loves so much.
I kiss her goodbye and start the short walk to my auto shop. My thoughts are clanging around after our conversation. Part of me wants to destroy everything her parents have, just to punish them for the way they treated Parker. The rational side of me can at least acknowledge that she wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for them. I’m not glad for the cause, but I can’t say I’m sorry she had to get away and start over here.
From the bits and pieces I know or can guess at, her past is a flaming shitshow. It’s almost hard to believe what an amazing person she is, considering her upbringing. I can’t fix any of that crap, but I can give her a much better future. Starting with her birthday.
The more I think about it, the more excited I get. I’m not sure exactly what I’m going to do, but I’ve got a couple ideas. By the time I get to the shop, I’ve got a list going in my head and a group text pinging away on my phone. Unsurprisingly, my sisters are on board and taking over within seconds.
* * *
The week blows by,going down in history as the best week of my life. I wake up to Parker in my bed every morning; I visit her for lunch every day, and we go home together at night. No matter how much time we spend together, I can’t get enough of her. It’s insane, but I think I’m going to ask her to move in with me. I just don’t know if I can convince her to do it. I know she likes the idea that she’s out on her own, doing it all herself. She doesn’t want to be coddled or controlled. I don’t want to do either of those things; I just want to be with her at the end of every day, and she keeps saying that her place is too small to have me over.
I’m mulling it over Thursday morning when I’m interrupted by a delivery. Mixed in with the car parts is a small package from an office supply company with my name on it instead of the shop’s. I feel the grin spread across my face. I’ve been so distracted that this completely slipped my mind.
Checking the clock, I note that it’s a little early for lunch, but I can’t wait to see Parker. Grabbing my stuff, I yell at Asher across the bay as I buckle my helmet.
“I’m going to lunch!”
He rolls his eyes and waves me off. Grumpy bastard needs to get laid. I rev the engine a couple times to annoy him before pulling out.
Parker is ringing up a customer when I walk into her shop, the package under my arm. I lean against the front window, waiting for her to finish. She’s wearing a white tank top tucked into a swingy little red skirt that keeps giving me tantalizing views of her thighs. We slept in this morning, and she refused to be late opening the shop, even if it was because I wanted to eat her pussy. Maybe I’m a horny bastard, but I’m hurting for a fix. She grins at me from behind the counter as I look her up and down, giving her a lascivious smirk.
The little old lady glances at me, eyes widening as she adjusts her glasses. She doesn’t take her eyes off me as she whispers to Parker: “There’s a hoodlum in your store.”
Parker laughs. “That’s okay. He’s my hoodlum,” she says with a wink in my direction.
“Oh! Well,” she replies, giving me another look, this one more approving than the last. “In that case, good for you.”
Parker laughs again and hands the woman her change. “Thanks. Have a nice day.”
I wink at the old broad as she leaves the store. She gives me one last look from head to toe with a muttered, “Oh my.”
As soon as the door shuts and we’re alone, Parker breaks out in peals of laughter. “Oh my,” I repeat as I walk closer to my girl.
“You saw this outfit before we left this morning,” she reminds me.
“I can’t help myself when you wear little skirts like that though,” I say, craning my head so I can get a better look at her legs behind the counter. She leans her elbows on the counter and pops a foot up behind her, her curvy ass giving me the dirtiest thoughts.
“I aim to please,” she says. “What’s in the package?”
“Early birthday present.” I grin, setting it on the counter and ripping into it. Parker gives me an adorable, thoroughly confused face. I just wink at her and drag her decrepit typewriter towards me. Emptying my pockets, I pull out a clean rag, a small bottle of rubbing alcohol, and a pair of black nitrile gloves. She watches me pull the gloves on, biting her lip so I flex my arms and give the glove a little snap.
“Wanna play doctor?” I tease. Parker’s eyes flare, a blush tinting her cheeks and I’m instantly hard. Of course, she does. “You are fantastically kinky, you know that Freckles.”
“I’m— I am not!” She sputters. “Well. Ok. Maybe a little. I’m blaming the romance books, though.”
Leaning over the counter to kiss her, I give one of her curls a little tug and nip her lip softly. “Then I should thank the books because I fucking love it,” I tell her.
Parker leans on the counter, chin resting on her fist, watching in fascination as I take out the old, dried up ribbon, and clean the machine up with the alcohol and tiny wire brush. I test each key, carefully bending the arms back into place until each one moves freely and falls back into place with a satisfying clunk. Once I install the new ink ribbon, I slide the repaired typewriter back towards her.
“You have printer paper, right? Give it a test run.”
She spins with a grin on her face, pulling the paper out of a cubby under the counter. She feeds a piece in and plunks away. When she hits the return key, the machine makes a satisfying ding that makes her smile harder every time. When she’s done, she pulls the paper free and hands it to me.
Thank you! You’re the best.
I can’t believe you did this for me.