Page 12 of His Pickle Her Jam

“Who else would I trust with that job?”

Lifting the box of supplies, I walked to my little hatchback and stuffed it inside. I just had to order more produce and I would be all set.

Watch out, Buckeroo, cause I am going to win this thing!

CHAPTER FIVE-BUCK

Day 1 of Block Party Prepping (9 to go)

I got to the storefront early, having been given the code by Mrs. Montgomery, and was pleased to find it had been professionally cleaned after Mr. Jones had closed.

Still, if we were doing food prep, I figured another going over couldn’t hurt. I’d already scrubbed the entire kitchen area, which had been used for the prepped meals Mr. Jones had offered at his grocery.

Lucky for me, the man had left the major appliances in place, and they were all in good condition. The utilities were on, and the store had a pretty efficient central air unit that I’d set to a cool 68 degrees.

It was hot as the Devil’s asshole out there.

A gross but apt description.

A better one would be hot as Jan’s sweet, tight, soaked pussy when I’d fingered her in the coat closet at Sonny’s wedding. But if I started thinking about that, I wouldn’t get anything done today.

It wasn’t even nine yet, and I had a lot of work to do. So, as much as I’d like to spend an hour or two jerking off to the memory of Jan’s moans or the way her channel had squeezed me, well, I had other things to do.

Plus, I couldn’t risk her coming into the store to find me with my shorts around my ankles and my dick in my hand.

“Fuck,” I growled, scrubbing a hand over my face before reaching into my shorts and adjusting my rock hard cock.

“Think of something else, Buck,” I mumbled and shook my head.

The humidity was off the charts. Maybe if I accomplished enough today, I could go home and jump in the pool to cool off.

I’d been futzing around with ideas all day. Mr. Jones wasn’t swayed by my cash offer on the place, so I’d have to wow him another way. Everybody loved pickles, but there was such a huge variety to choose from.

I was definitely going to include a classic pickled Kirby cucumber recipe in my three entries. I just wasn’t sure which flavor profile I was going with.

Nine days didn’t leave me a lot of options since pickling was a process and some recipes called for weeks before the food item was edible.

I would have to be discerning. And I would have to be on point. There was no room for error. I needed this storefront.

I knew the second I saw it, but after spending the past two hours scrubbing counters, floors, and windows, and turning on switches, I believed it even more.

Jones’ Grocery was huge.

That’s what she said.

I snorted. Then stubbed my toe.

Fuck. Concentrate, Buck.

Okay, so with the right interior design, I just knew the space would be perfect for Pickled Possibilities.

If anything, it was almost too big.

That’s what she—OUCH!

I stubbed my toe again.

FML.

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