48. Chapter 48
Thirteen Days Until Charlotte
Colt barged into the shop ten minutes later than usual, sweat soaking through his t-shirt.
He was panting, his chest sticking to the cotton as it rose and fell.
Beau reminded himself that it was Not The Time to be getting a hard-on.
Mrs. Davies was standing right in front of him while he checked her in for her usual oil change.
“Boy, get in my office,” Beau barked as Colt dripped sweat on his tile floor. “I’ll be right there.”
“But I’ve got—”
“Now.”
“Fine,” Colt grumbled, already walking toward the door.
Beau turned back to his customer, a seventy-five-year-old woman who had been seeing him for all her maintenance since he’d opened. She was staring at Colt’s retreating back. When Beau cleared his throat, she turned back to him with a smile like she’d just witnessed a work of art.
“My, they do make them pretty these days, don’t they?” She sighed and handed him her card. “To be young again.”
“You’re married.” Beau ran her card and handed her the receipt. “And he’s in his twenties.”
“Don’t ruin my fun, Mercer,” she chastised. “I’m allowed to use my eyes, you know.”
“Mhmm.” Beau tapped his fingers on the desk. “Be about an hour today. Got someone in front of you. But Joyce put out a new special this morning. Some banana bread French toast thing. She’ll wanna see you.”
“Thanks, sugar.”
She left, and Beau waited exactly one second after the door had closed before he followed Colt into his office and shut the door.
The boy was chugging an electrolyte drink he’d taken out of Beau’s mini fridge, a shop towel around his neck.
He’d been gone before Beau woke up that morning—left him coffee but hadn’t answered his texts.
“You been in the gym all morning?” Beau went to his desk drawer and pulled out a protein bar, which he handed over.
“Gym doesn’t open until five,” Colt said as he ripped the bar open and took a chomp. “Ran around the building for a while until it did. Hey, can we try to book the track tonight? I know it’s late, but—”
“Got the track booked every night this week,” Beau informed him. He grabbed another clean shop towel out of the box on top of his filing cabinet and threw it at Colt’s face. “Get cleaned up and get to work.”
Colt grinned and hooked the towel around Beau’s neck. He used it to pull him in for a kiss, all salt and tongue with the faint aftertaste of grapefruit. Then he let go and took the towel with him to the bathroom. Beau shook his head and ran a hand over his own hair.