Hot Pickle - J.J. Knight Page 0,26

tough to do your job, then.”

We pass the maintenance shed again, and I’m already nostalgic about what happened there earlier. “Franklin is the one who suggested I try this job. I was doing low-end brow waxes and tanning bed work before this. I never know why Franklin selects certain people to keep away from me.” I glance up at him. “Unless there’s something about you I ought to know.”

Max gestures to his shirt. “I’m your basic low-level sandwich maker.”

“Who owns the restaurant.”

We approach the swings. “One more round?” he asks.

“Only if you promise not to get on top of the frame.”

“Made you nervous?”

“I’m protecting your hard head. Race you. Don’t steal the tall one.” I take off in a dead sprint. Max lets out an uproarious laugh and makes chase. We fly past the empty playscape and rush for the swings.

I grab the chain of the higher one, right as Max snatches it, too.

“I told you it was mine!” I pull the swing toward me, but Max comes with it.

And suddenly we’re close. Really close.

It’s not my hands on his skin, like I’ve done before.

But face-to-face.

He’s down in the dugout base of the swing, which lessens our height difference. I feel the powerful need to stand on my tiptoes and kiss him.

“What will you give me for it?” he asks.

My answer comes before I can catch myself. “A kiss.”

His expression never wavers. “So, if I give you a kiss, I get the swing?”

I laugh. “Oh, no. If I give you a kiss, you let me have the swing.”

The sun has sunk low, and the shadows falling across the park are deep. The tiny ball of gold behind Max gives him an ethereal glow, like an Olympian god who has come down to find a human bride. Simply looking at him makes me shiver.

But I stand my ground. I want this kiss. I want him.

He leans forward, and for the barest moment, our lips brush together. Like the sudden flare of a match struck against the edge of the box, the need of him flashes through me, bright and hot.

But he pulls away and lets go of the chain. “You swing, I’ll push.”

I can scarcely breathe at what’s happened, but I settle down on the thick rubber seat.

Max grasps the two metal triangles at the base of the chains and draws me back like an arrow in a bow.

I lift my feet, sinking into the nearness of him at my back.

When he’s brought the seat as far as it can go, he releases me.

I sail into the sky. It’s exhilarating, the wind on my face, this man at my back. I reach the peak and retreat down, hurtling toward his body. He reaches out and firmly presses his hands low on my waist to return me to the clouds.

I have never felt so high, so exhilarated, so full of anticipation.

He pushes me three, four, five more times before I turn my head and say, “I’m starving.”

He clasps the base of the chain and carefully draws my swing to a stop.

My back is pressed against his chest, and it is temptingly close to an embrace.

We wait there for the span of a few breaths, and I start to believe he feels the same way I do.

I want to rush toward what I know comes next. Both of us naked, tangled together, kissing, sucking, feasting on each other.

But it’s too soon. We’ve only barely met.

I step down from the swing and turn to face him.

I want to tell him what I’m feeling, but I’m not sure what’s happening with him. Maybe he has someone already, some lovely thing tucked away so well I couldn’t find her in my search. Maybe he’ll go see her after this and do all the things I’m already longing for.

My jealousy for this unknown woman burns hard. But Max is only a client. He only came because I asked to see his tan.

And yet, he did give me that kiss.

“Ready for a sandwich?” he asks. “I see an empty picnic table calling our name.”

“Of course,” I say. “Thank you for bringing it.”

“Anything for my tanning expert.”

I follow him to his car, trying to force down my feelings.

That’s what I am. His service provider.

For now, it will have to be enough.

13

Max

During workouts over the next few days, Franklin and I avoid the topic of his sister.

He doesn’t ask if I’m doing more tans with her.

And I don’t volunteer any information.

Particularly the part where I always seem to rise to