Brooe Wors at the Hardware Store

750 Word Project 2023

story. It's short, but that's the point.

* * * *

Brooke served me again today.

I'm a regular at the local hardware store, with my loyalty card that gives me ten bucks off every now and then, and the guys who help me with good trade advice, and Brooke, who's not always there.

She's seen me through winter, wearing her tight fitting jeans and a blue fleecy top with the name of the store and her name sewn on it, over her right breast. During the hot summer she wears shorts and a lighter top that shows the outline of the bra cupping her breasts, with her name sewn into the cloth.

And curiously, for a young woman who works amongst men, she wears a delicate chain with a small diamond pendant at her throat, matching the diamond drops in her ears.

She's got a pretty good idea what I'm building, even though she doesn't see all I buy.

"How's it going, your reno?"

"Oh, you know, getting there."

"You'll have to invite me to see it, when you're done." She looked at me in a friendly way, smiling, and slid the card machine to me.

"When I'm done."

A couple of weeks later I got a text around four.

- Hi, Brooke here from Home Hardware. Will someone be home to help unload that timber you ordered -

- yes - I replied, - what time? -

- about 5 -

- okay, see you then - I got a smiley face in reply.

The day was hot, and I'd been working in the studio, fitting a door, so when I heard the ute back down the drive, it was a good time to stop.

"Didn't know you did deliveries," I said, greeting the young woman with a smile.

"I don't usually," she replied, "but Billy went home crook, so I said I'd do it, at knock off. Come see your shed!"

"It's a studio," I replied, proud of what I was building.

"A studio? My my, didn't expect that. Are you an artist?"

"No, it's for listening to music, when it's done."

"But it's not done yet?" She gestured at the timber lengths, tied down to the racks on the truck.

"Nope, not done yet."

She smiled, her eyes creasing. I sensed a slight indulgence as I watched her stretch to undo the straps. She pulled her hair back into a long pony tail, to keep it up out of the way.

"Safety first," she said. "It's all right for the blokes. They've all got short hair. Or they're bald." She laughed, and suddenly was far more than pretty, her eyes with a strong, certain look. "Come on, I'll take this end."

There were eight lengths of timber to be manoeuvred off the truck and down through the car-port, to where we laid them out on the grass, in the back garden. By the time we were done, we were both sweating, our shirts clinging to our skin.

"God, it's hot," said Brooke, pulling her hair up away from her neck.

"Sit there in the shade. I'll get us a drink."

When I got back with two bottles of water, Brooke was sitting on a bench down by the rose garden, under the big gum. She took the bottle with a nod, took one long drink, then up-ended the bottle over her head. "Mmmm, that feels better." She looked around. "You got a hose? Best way to cool off."

I pointed to a tap by the house, with a coil of hose attached to it. "Let it run cold."

Brooke let it run cold, feeling the water flow through her fingers. Then, with no announcement at all, she stripped off her top and took off her shorts, pointed the hose right up in the sky and stood under it. The water was cold, and her nipples tightened. She grinned, and turned the hose on me. "You're hot too, and I'm wet."

I laughed, and went to her, stripping off my shirt as I went.

She stood behind me, back to back, holding the hose straight up until we both were thoroughly soaked. Then Brooke turned to me with her clear bright eyes and her smile. She let me look as she stripped off her wet underwear, then unbuckled my pants.

"Show me that studio of yours. 'Bout time I saw it, after selling you all that stuff." She grinned. "Why do you think I work at the hardware store? I like men with clever hands. Let's see yours."