Hutchinson leaned on the gas meter at the side of the house, flipping through the ads from the Sunday paper Lydia had thrown in the green recycle bin.
Chin knew there was a lingerie ad in there, because it was honeymoon season, and the brunette from Lascivious Lace bought her tires at his store.
He found the ad he wanted. Still in good enough condition for the young lady to sign it, he’d put it in the employee bathroom.
All he had to do was go on the store computer, send her an email saying she was due for a free rotation. Good for morale. Remind the guys that they didn’t just serve the faceless public, but had legit celebrities for clientele.
Chin put the cover on the recycle bin and sweat dripped onto the green plastic in rhythmic little drops.
He’d prefer to be called Hutch, but he was heavy and his jowl sagged, so Chin it was.
The brunette in the red lace lingerie quickened Chin’s pulse. He imagined her skin was that perfect, though he knew the image was filtered and photoshopped.
Chin heard heavy breathing. It startled him enough that he looked down at his own chest.
Heard a grunt. Definitely not him.
Then he heard a groan.
Not pain, but not quite pleasure.
Chin set the glossy lingerie ad on the gas meter, turned and peeked through Alba’s window.
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