Page 16 of Double Delivery
To say that I was struggling would be an understatement. The jitters and sense of displacement had cleared up for a few days, but had come roaring back with a vengeance.
I’d had the first good night’s sleep in what felt like months after Tripp and I spent the evening with Ollie at the bar. I’d been horny as hell once I got home, but was well-rested the next morning. And, for several more nights, I’d assumed that whatever had plagued me had passed.
Then a couple of busy days kept me from sitting with Tripp at the bar, and, whatever was happening, was even worse.
It had become so evident that even Tammy had noticed, and she’d asked if I was sick over several mornings.
“Only a few hours left today,” I muttered as I waited at a light. I took a deep breath as the light turned green and listened to the roar of the engine as I drove through the intersection.
“Maybe I’ll put in for some time off after the new year,” I said to myself. “Can’t do it during the holidays, but maybe once the gift rush is over.”
At least there was the daily bright spot: seeing Ollie. I was busy enough that the interaction had to be brief, but he always gave me one of his shy smiles. He’d also started to provide daily treats. Sometimes it was a bottle of water and a granola bar, others it was a handful of homemade cookies. While he wasn’t the only person on my route to do something nice, it felt different coming from him.
The sweet omega was still on my mind as I turned into his neighborhood. I had a large delivery for him, which meant a few extra seconds in his presence.
I turned onto the street with the cul-de-sac and blinked when I saw Tripp’s truck parked in front of Ollie’s house, a hand truck waiting by the open rear door.
Tripp leaned back from where he’d been working in the cargo area of his truck and nodded at me as I pulled behind him and turned off my mine.
I waved as I stood and headed into the back of my truck to pull Ollie’s boxes. As usual, they were heavier than expected for their size, and I decided that the hand truck was the way to go.
I loaded the four boxes and wheeled the cart up Ollie’s driveway to where he was working in the open garage.
“Over here, Ax,” Tripp said from where he stood next to his hand truck. “That way Ollie doesn’t have to carry them through the house.”
Since when does he call me Ax?
I shook my head and pushed my hand truck over, where I saw Ollie working inside, surrounded by shelves full of boxes.
The first thing I noticed was the light sheen of sweat coating Ollie’s forehead, then his scent hit me, delicious and enticing.
“Sorry,” Ollie said, pushing up his glasses—his fingers brushing a knit beanie. “You can leave them right there.”
I glanced around the space. There were several open boxes on the floor, and what appeared to be newly cleared shelf space. “Which shelves do you want these on?” I asked.
Ollie shook his head. “It’s ok! I’ll do it.”
I laughed. “It’ll take me the same amount of time to unload them either way. Point me to the shelf while you go grab your outbound.”
“He’s right,” Tripp agreed. “I don’t like leaving tall stacks unsupported, so I’d be unloading boxes too. Might as well put them where they need to go.”
Ollie looked between us, then breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” He pointed at the shelves. “Right there is fine. Labels out if possible.”
I nodded and pushed my hand truck closer. “Got it.”
“I’ll be right back with the outbound,” Ollie stated as he scurried off.
“Left and right, or top and bottom?” Tripp asked as he studied the shelves.
“You can take the bottom,” I replied.
“Ooh, promise?” Tripp teased as he hefted a box and slid it onto the shelf.
Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was the combination of Ollie’s and Tripp’s scent, but I suddenly had thoughts of taking Tripp like that.
Tripp laughed, jolting me from my daydream. “Your silence tells me you like that idea.”
“Fuck you,” I snarled.
