Page 38 of A Dream for Daphne

He burst out laughing. “I’m the one that probably stinks,” he said. “I’m covered in sweat and dirt like I am most days.”

“So?” she said. “Do you know how many times I’ve gone home from my last job sweating through my clothes after running around chasing kids and then had food, puke, paint, and sometimes poop on me?”

He shivered. “I can honestly say I don’t think I’ve ever had poop on me unless I stepped in it.”

“It’s not fun,” she said. “You aren’t missing much.”

“Glad to know,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind dinner though. But I’ve got to shower. I can’t even stand myself at the end of the day.”

“It’s not bad,” she said. “People are born to sweat and stink. Those that think it doesn’t happen are just delusional.”

“I’ve always thought so,” he said. “But not many women do. Most think their poop...if they admit to doing it...smells like fresh baked cookies.”

Her shoulders lifted as she laughed. “I’ve got a few friends like that. Or had them. I don’t have too many friends here. I’m not like those women. Life is messy and dirty and I’ve lived enough of it to know.”

“Me too,” he said, relieved to know someone got him.

“I feel bad that you’re going to drive all the way home and then back here again. It’s really out of your way.”

“You can come back to my place again,” he said. The way she was looking around made him wonder if she was nervous her employers might come walking over and see them talking.

Guess that was one of those things they had to talk about too.

“I could,” she said. “But I’d like to cook for you. Would you be upset if I cooked in your kitchen?”

“Shit no,” he said. “Cook anywhere in my house you want.”

“Okay,” she said. “I can pack up what I was going to make and bring it. You tell me when.”

Three dates in a row.

Well, today was the second, tomorrow would be the third.

Not bad for a guy who had been lucky to get her to talk to him in the grocery store.

Stalking behind her might have helped.

“You can follow me home now if you want,” he said.

“I’ll give you time to shower,” she said.

There was a slight flush to her face and he wondered if she was thinking of him naked.

He knew he couldn’t get her out of his head.

But he was also smart enough to not voice those words.

“Then come whenever you want,” he said. “I don’t need much time.”

“I’ll leave in about fifteen minutes,” she said. “I just want to pack up my food. I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye, Daphne,” he said, giving her a salute and walking back to his truck.

He climbed in and hit the AC on high, then pulled out.

He cringed when he got a whiff of himself and couldn’t believe she didn’t have a problem with it.

Or maybe she only smelled the sunscreen on him, but he was close enough to the vents that they hit his pits and sent it up.

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