Tyler stripped off his wet shirt and tossed it aside, stretching. “Could you toss me another sponge, Burt?”
Burt snorted from his seat in the front of his own vehicle, one eyebrow arching over the top of his sunglasses. “Do I look like your servant?” he drawled sarcastically…but he still leaned over and grabbed a clean, dripping sponge and tossed it to the younger man. “Next time get it yourself.”
He didn’t mean it, of course. He hadn’t meant it in quite a while. But appearances had to be maintained – they had a potential audience across the street at the store.
And Burt Gummer did not share his private life with an audience.
Of course, he didn’t entirely mind that a large part of his private life was out here where he could openly and with no one the wiser watch him wash his tour vehicle, half-naked and glistening wet, lean muscles rippling under golden-tanned skin…
Burt shifted – mentally and physically – to ease a certain body part’s reaction to that. Wouldn’t do for Nancy to come out here and see him with a…semi-automatic in his pants. At least, not one in the front. He’d never hear the end of it.
Tyler bent over to scrub at a dirt-encrusted panel, worn jeans stretching tight, and Burt shifted again and sighed under his breath. Now he really hoped Nancy stayed in the store: his concealed weapon was about to undergo automatic conversion.
Agent Twitchell’s eyes narrowed as he peered out the store window, and then he chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “What’s so funny?” Nancy wanted to know. The agent had been amused by something for the past ten minutes now. When he just shook his head again she stalked over to see for herself. “What is it? All I see is Tyler washing his truck and Burt watching…” Her eyes widened. “Oh.”
“Yep.” Twitchell was enjoying this. “I’d kind of suspected something was going on for a while now, but this is the first time I’ve really been sure. They’re both careful.”
“Probably with good reason,” Nancy murmured. This explained so much. “Burt’s been…calmer lately.”
“Probably worn out…”
Nancy elbowed him. “Burt’s in great shape for a man his age,” she scolded. “There’s no reason he can’t keep up with Tyler.”
Twitchell looked out the window again; Tyler had stripped off his soaked shirt and Burt was looking on appreciatively as he continued to wash the tour vehicle, leanly muscled wet body gleaming in the harsh afternoon sunlight. “Well shit, from here I can’t say I blame him for making the effort,” he snorted. “I haven’t ever been inclined that way myself, but damn…”
Tyler bent over, wet jeans pulling tight, and Nancy whistled. “Damn is right.”
By this time the byplay had attracted Jodi’s attention. “You can’t be serious,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Burt and Tyler? Come on, what could possibly get the two of them together…” Nancy pulled her in front of the window and the younger woman trailed off, her mouth falling open. “Oh, I think I get it now. Wow. I’d never…noticed before.”
“Looks like that was your loss,” Twitchell commented with a dry chuckle. “And Gummer’s gain. You ladies didn’t pay attention to what was right under your noses so he had no competition at all.”
“Rosalita noticed…” Jodi began, and then stopped. And grimaced, sharing a look with Nancy. “No, you’re right; Burt had no competition.”