He hugged her back. Crushing her trim body to his. Letting himself have that for just a second. Just this one moment in time. Her curves were warm and inviting against him and Archie had to withdraw from the hug even though she felt perfectly content to stay there. His body was getting a little too happy to hug her. And he didn’t want to put her in a position where she regretted helping him out.
‘Oh, shit,’ Betsey said. Then she started to laugh. Luckily Archie was laughing with her. Within a minute they were hanging off each other like two drunks, laughing like lunatics.
‘Oh, my God!’ Archie whooped and then dissolved into even more laughter.
‘Are we laughing as a defence mechanism?’ she asked.
Archie was nodding. Nodding like a bobblehead in a car window. And she found it endearing. That hug had managed to heat her up and make her wonder. Wonder what that hug could have turned into had they added a kiss to the scenario.
‘Yes. Yes, we are. What is this, Betsey?’ He sat down on a milk crate and put his head in his hands.
‘It’s better than your truck, right?’
‘Barely,’ he snorted. He wiped his eyes and ran a hand through his hair as he scanned the employee ‘accommodations’.
‘And better than a…seedy motel?’ she asked, trying not to wince.
‘I’m not sure about that.’
‘I’ll help you!’ Betsey said, surveying the space. The swayback sofa crouched in the corner by the front door of the trailer. It was, not to put too fine a point on it, baby-shit yellow.
There were no other seats.
The kitchen was grimy, the cabinets hanging open to show nothing but bare shelves and a few cracked dishes. The curtains on the windows were threadbare. The rug on the floor matched. She poked a head in the bathroom. Dirty and bare-bones. No shower curtain on the stand-up shower. The bedroom was a bare mattress, a nearly empty bookshelf and a closet with wire hangers, no clothes. It was…a mess.
‘Not even you can save this, Betsey,’ he said, coming up close behind her. She felt his energy rushing around her like water swirling around her when she stood in the ocean. Betsey eyed the bed and wondered, what if…
She shook it off and grabbed his hands. What was it with her and touching him? She couldn’t quite help herself, it seemed. ‘After my breakfast shift tomorrow we can go to the thrift store. I promise, for very little money I can make this place more like a home and less like a…’ She looked around and sighed. ‘Life sentence.’
He was watching her and she became supremely aware of her body. How she was standing. What she might look like. And the fact that she was still holding his hands in hers. Squeezing. Her heart kicked up a notch and she whispered, ‘I promise, Archie.’
When he put his hands on her face and looked into her eyes, she felt a little woozy. Her mind scrambled – stupidly, given the moment she was in – to remember the last time she’d been this close to a man. And, worse yet, this close and this attracted.
‘Betsey?’
‘Yes?’ His eyes were so blue. So, so blue. She didn’t know eyes could be that blue. Or jaws that strong, or stubble that dark, or smiles that…sexy. Jesus, so sexy.
‘I believe you,’ he said. And then he kissed her. A soft, seeking kiss that stole her breath and made her fingers curl in the hem of his shirt. They were that close. Close enough in the horrid trailer that she could feel the heat that drifted off him enveloping her. Close enough that she could sense his body growing chaotic and heated within, the same way hers was. Close enough that when she stopped standing so rigid and let her body melt against his she felt that he was just as attracted to her as she was to him.
She could also tell, based on the size of that hard-on, that if she ever slipped up and let herself get close…she wouldn’t regret it. Not for a second.
She gave herself over to the kiss. When his tongue slid against hers she wanted to wave the white flag and give into her desires. She pushed her body against his and him against her. Betsey swore for a second she could feel his heart pounding in counter time to hers. She gasped when his big hands slid low, caressed her hips and then cupped her ass cheeks. The sound seemed to clear both their heads. They jumped apart like two teenagers caught necking in a dark corner at a dance.
She smoothed her hands over the front of her sweater. Her nipples were ridiculously hard, she realised, and there was nothing she could do about it. So she crossed her arms in front of her chest. ‘Sorry,’ she said.
Archie ran both hands through his dark, already tousled hair, and groaned like a dying man. ‘Christ, me too. I’m sorry. I just…I am so grateful and it’s been so long and you smell so good and…’ He cocked his head at her, grinning.
It went straight between her thighs, that smile. Her pussy was keeping a steady wet pulse with her pounding heart. She felt like, if she gave into it, she’d push him back and have her way with him right there in the middle of his new, horrid hovel of a trailer.
‘And?’ she managed.
‘And you’re certainly not hard to look at, Betsey,’ he said softly, and touched her cheek.
The cheek touch rekindled the idea of riding him like a cowgirl. Instead she laughed nervously and tugged his jacket. Not his hand, not his arm, not anything that could ignite her nerve endings. ‘Come on. I think I have an extra set of sheets you can borrow. We can clean up a bit and tomorrow we’ll set about turning it into a home instead of a hole.’
He laughed. ‘I’ll definitely need your magic touch for that.’
Four hours later they were both covered in dust and grimy. The mattress had been beaten – within an inch of its life – and covered in clean sheets borrowed from Betsey. The sofa had been covered with a gypsy print throw on loan until she could get him to the thrift store. The floors had been swept and Betsey, God love her, had crawled around on her hands and knees with sanitising wipes to clean the small linoleum floor.
‘Sorry,’ she grunted. ‘My mop broke last week. I still need to get one, and, knowing Mr Booth, he won’t have one. He hires a lady from town to come in and clean his trailer once a month.’ She snorted. ‘Should be more often than that, if you ask me.’
Archie couldn’t stop himself. The whole time she was crawling around and he was dusting the high parts to get rid of spider webs, he kept watching her ass. It was impossible not to, now that he’d cupped it in his hands and held her close. His cock still ached if he let himself think about it. It had been almost a year for him. After the initial woe-is-me feeling of not wanting to date while living in his mother’s basement had passed only to leave him in a place – emotionally and mentally – where he just wanted to be alone. He’d been fine being alone. Grateful for it.
And now the thought of wrapping the night up and saying goodnight to Betsey made him a little sad. His chest ached worse than his cock if he thought about it.
It was thoroughly unsettling.
He stood on the small front porch of his new abode and watched her smile. It was a perfect smile.
‘I think we’ve done well. At least considering we had limited supplies and a few hours. Now…’ She rubbed her stomach. ‘I’m starved. Wanna go attack that Salisbury steak?’
His stomach growled. ‘As you can hear, that’s a yes. Hey, there was a liquor store on the way here. Want me to go grab us some beers? Toast all this hard work?’
Her dark-brown eyes clouded for a moment. Her happy face came down to sad. ‘I don’t…I don’t drink,’