Chapter 6 - Craig
“Who the hell cleaned under the register?” shouted the mill’s owner, Emmett.
“Uhhh,” I managed, turning from where I was about to grab the broom. “Did I do it wrong?”
Emmett burst into laughter, wrinkles crinkling near his eyes. “No, son. Just never thought I’d see somebody clean it out on their own.”
“He did it to keep himself from making goo-goo eyes at Randy,” Harrison called from where he was downstocking some boards.
“Randy?” Emmett asked. “Spud’s owner?”
“That’s the one.”
“Oh, fuck you!” I shouted at Harrison.
“I think you’d much rather be fucking Randy,” he shot right back.
“Asshole,” I huffed, then turned to grab the broom so that I could sweep before opening.
“I do have to ask,” Emmett continued from where he was still inspecting my cleaning job. “What’s with the pile of scraps under here?”
“That’s Craig’s dowry,” Harrison answered before I could come up with an excuse. “He’s been squirrelling away pieces to present to his mate.”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” I griped.
Emmett burst into another fit of laughter.
“Never seen a man court an omega with scrap wood before, but if it’ll work on anybody, it’ll work on Randy.
” He walked from behind the counter. “I’ll let you keep your little pile of courting gifts, since they’re scraps.
But, with limits. No more than one a day, that way there are good pieces left for other customers.
And somebody has to buy them, whether that’s you, Randy, or they go back in the bin, I don’t care. ”
I swallowed and nodded. “Yes, sir.”
He walked over and clapped me on the shoulder. “One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“If that man tells you to knock it off, you knock it the fuck off. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
He studied me for several seconds, then nodded. “Good.” He stepped back. “Ok, I’ll let you two prepare to open.”
I waited until Emmett exited through the double doors that led to the back, then I rounded on Harrison—who wore a shit-eating grin.
“What the hell, man?”
“It’s not like it’s a secret,” he replied with a chuckle.
“No thanks to you.”
He snorted. “You keep telling yourself that. Half the place smelled like you for the rest of that day. Plus, Oscar clocked it as soon as he introduced you. Everybody was going to know whether I said anything or not.”
“Damnit.”
He laughed. “Look at the bright side. The boss isn’t gonna can your ass for flirting with a customer.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Hurry up and sweep,” he said with a smirk. “We open in a few minutes.”
∞∞∞
I groaned at the pink stripe that appeared on the receipt and eyed the line of Monday morning contractors needing a replacement board for workers who messed up a cut.
I figured I could run a few more transactions before I’d have to replace the roll, but it definitely wasn’t the way I wanted to come back from the weekend. It was too busy; too many men alternating between staring at me and their watches.
Well, it wasn’t as if I had a choice, and neither did they. I guessed that probably three-quarters of the men in line had to get a receipt for their bosses. I’d just have to keep an eye on it and switch it the first free second I had.
“Next,” I called as the man in front of me turned to push his cart laden with two-by-fours out.
“Hola,” said a man who’d clearly already been working that morning. He passed over a list.
I nodded as I accepted the slip of paper, then input the order into the register. He handed me a credit card when I showed him the total. I stapled his copy of the credit card slip to the receipt and handed him a pickup form to give to the yard guys.
“Gracias,” he said with a nod.
“No problem,” I replied as he stepped back.
I made it through two more customers before I decided that I was pushing my luck and had to change the receipt roll.
I held up a finger, knelt… and groaned.
There, where my pile of scraps had sat, was a gray dollar-store plastic bin. On it, somebody had scrawled “Craig’s Dowry” with black marker.
“Hey! What’s the hold up?” called somebody from the line.
“Just gotta change the printer roll,” I yelled back.
“Hurry it up,” shouted another man. “We’ve got work to do.”
I grabbed a roll from the box and managed to get it into the machine in record time, but that didn’t satisfy the line of busy men.
It was only once I managed to clear out the rush that I had a chance to breathe—and stew over the plastic bin.
I could ask, but my bets were on either Harrison or Emmett. The first was more likely, but the big boss had a sense of humor.
Either way, it was clear that my attraction to Randy was going to be a source of gossip for as long as they remained amused by it.