Shorts and One Shots

Good Directions - pjm

For Introverted3xtrovert  😌
If you like this one, check out her one shots book, they are all just as cute!

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The screen door slammed behind you as you walked out of the house, boots crunching on the gravel driveway when you jumped from the porch straight to the ground, skipping the two rickety wooden steps that led to the wide wooden porch. You had been taking care of the family farm on your own since you convinced your parents to finally retire for about a month now. It was exhausting and the hours were long, but the work was rewarding and you loved it.

You had just finished in the field for the morning and were headed over to your pickup to pop the hood and see if you could figure out why it had been making that grinding noise lately. You were already sweaty and dirty but there was no point in cleaning up yet - you weren't nearly done for the day.

You had propped up the hood of the rusty old truck and were leaned over into it, jostling the pieces at the side of the engine to see if anything was loose when you heard the sound of a car flying by. You glanced at the cloud of dust it left in its wake, expecting to recognize the vehicle - but it was some unfamiliar car with out of state plates. You shrugged and leaned back down, but after a moment you heard tires crunching on gravel much more slowly this time and looked up to see the car reversing back toward you. You frowned, wondering if you should go inside, but a curiosity made you stay as the car backed up all the way to your driveway. It stopped and the engine died, and then a man got out of it.

The car was a shiny and red and very expensive, your eyes widening when you realized what model it was - it was filthy though, these dusty country roads will do that to a vehicle of course. But you completely forgot about the price tag on the car when your eyes fell to the man getting out of it. His hair was dyed a silvery blonde color and styled back from his face, a few strands of it falling across his forehead. His skin was was pretty and glowing and looked soft - he had certainly not grown up on a farm like you. He was wearing a crisp white dress shirt and the sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, a black tie hanging around his neck. The shirt was tucked into pristine fitted black slacks, not a wrinkle in sight, and his fancy black boots shone in the sunlight. Tight silver hoops hung from his ears and he gripped his black cell phone in a soft looking hand, decorated with several silver rings.

You knew you were staring and it was only partially because he might be the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on - but it was also because he simply didn't belong there. Everything about his expensive looking outfit to his expensive looking car, to the style of his hair to the way he held himself screamed city, money, business - and everything about your dirty old boots, ripped jeans and sweaty face screamed country, earth and hard work.

So pure interest kept you rooted to the spot, one hand coming up to wipe your sweaty brow, unconsciously smearing a little bit of grease across it. He was looking slightly apprehensive, giving you an uncomfortable smile as he clutched his phone.

"Hi, I'm sorry to bother you," he began - the tone of his voice pure and melodic - but his expressive eyes giving away his anxious discomfort. "But I'm kind of lost." And something about the way it was so - so obvious that he was definitely, very lost and the sweet way he said it, sounding so worried and innocent made you bite your tongue to keep from laughing. You couldn't keep a smile from sneaking onto your face though.

"I can see that," you told him, your voice giving away a bit of the humor you felt. He looked down an then back up, a half smile on his face and his eyes dancing like he wanted to laugh along with you.

"It's just that i don't have any service out here and I can't find the interstate," he said, holding up his cell phone.

"Oh yeah, there's only one carrier that really gets decent service out her and even it's spotty," you replied, placing your hands on your hips. You noticed how his eyes drifted down briefly, following your movement but then snapped back up to your face. He ducked his head and reached up awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. The movement made the shirt flex around his abdomen and stretch over his arm muscles and you blinked, quickly refocusing. "You're not far though."

"Really?" He asked, dropping his arm, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Yeah," you replied, chuckling a little. "Just go on up a ways, and you'll get to a stop sign with a corner store on one side. You should definitely stop in there and get a nice cold sweet tea, this heat is killer today. Then go left at the stop sign to get to the interstate. If you accidentally go right, you'll just circle around and come back up by me and you can try again," you told him with a smile.

"Thank you..." he said, trailing off at the end as if he were asking for your name.

"Sam," you said.

"Sam," he repeated, smiling widely now, his face scrunching so his eyes disappeared into half moons. He stepped toward you, offering his hand and you quickly wiped yours on your thighs, trying to get off any dirt or sweat. "I'm Jimin," he said, his voice dropping in tone and volume a bit as you reached out and clasped his hand.

It was just as soft as you had expected, and when he stepped closer you could see the details of his face better, his full pink lips parting in that soft smile, his pretty brown eyes crinkling adorably.

"Sweet tea sounds nice. Thank you," he said, his eyes looking directly into yours. You felt yourself clamming up for some reason - was it his direct stare or his soft hand around yours or his pretty voice - you could barely find yours to respond.

"You-you're welcome," you finally made yourself say. He was still grasping your hand, almost as if he didn't want to let go of it as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. Then he gave your hand a last squeeze and shot you another tiny smile before turning and heading back to his car. You watched him go and he gave you a little wave and last look as he got back into his car and started it up. You raised your hand in response as he began to pull away and you watched the cloud of dust following his car disappear.

Wow was all you could think when he had gone. When would you ever encounter another person like that again. There was something about him - not just that he wasn't like everyone else here or that he was from out of town - but something behind his eyes that made you want to know more. You sighed and returned to the truck, bending back over it and getting back to work.

About half an hour later you had jacked up the front end of the truck and were lying on your back beneath it, tinkering with the underside of the engine when you heard tires crunching on gravel again. You figured it was just one of your neighbors stopping by and you didn't immediately scoot out from under the truck, wanting to finish what you were doing first as they got out of their car and walked toward your truck. But then you glanced to the side and nearly bashed your head on the pipes when the boots that you saw there weren't covered in mud, but were instead shiny and black and...well maybe a little bit dusty this time. You were blinking in surprise when the boots came a step closer and then Jimin bent over, peering under the edge of the truck at you.

"Hi Sam," he said, a little chuckle behind his voice.

"Oh - Jimin! You're back?"

"Yeah...I had some sweet tea and...well I wanted to thank you for the suggestion and...um. Can you come out of there?" He asked, placing a hand on the ground uncomfortably. "Kinda hard to talk to you from this angle."

"Oh!" You quickly scooted out and sat up. He reached out a hand and you took it, letting him pull you to your feet. He did so smoothly and easily and as you stood you noticed he had removed his tie and his hair was mussed as if he had been driving with his windows down, the top of his shirt unbuttoned and open a bit.

"So anyway. I just. Wanted to come back. For a minute and maybe see if you wanted to...I don't know. Talk?" He asked, sounding awkward and endearing and adorable. You were looking at him incredulously and he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "It's just I missed my flight and so I've got a few hours to kill and..." he looked back at you. "Well why not kill them with you." You blinked at him, wondering if maybe you were imagining things. "Unless you're too busy of course," he said quickly, glancing at the truck.

"No!" You said hurriedly. "No, I'm - I'd love to talk with you Jimin."

He grinned. "Well is there anywhere else around here to get a sweet tea?" He asked, that cute half smile back again as he shifted his weight.

"Yeah," you replied, gesturing at the house behind you. "I make some pretty good tea right here," you told him. That eye-squinting smile was back as you started walking backward, leading him toward your house.

"Sounds good Sam," he said as he followed after you.