Does this mean it's me and the backgammon dude? I'm just sayin', I'm more of a cribbage guy, is all.
Just get it done.
Yes ma'am.
Yes ma'am.
The words reverberated through Rachel's brain long after Tim left the office. She had never thought about the words in any other way except professional, however the easy way Tim had drawled out the words sent a pleasant tingle down her spine.
Judging by the smirk on his face as she left the office, the sly bastard knew it too.
"Did you mean to leave this in the middle of the floor?" Rachel walked into her living room to see Tim looking down at the box that she'd managed to drag in from the porch.
"Well, I didn't mean to, but since you mentioned it, mind putting it together for me?" She sweetly asked as she went back into the kitchen.
Tim huffed out a laugh and pulled his ever present Leatherman from his pocket, "I come over for a nice home-cooked meal, and the woman puts me to work." He grumbled good-naturedly.
"You say something, Gutterson?" Rachel called out.
"No ma'am."
Rachel paused as she was dishing up the mashed potatoes; Tim was really pushing his luck today. Although, she couldn't fault him, she'd let it show how much hearing him call her ma'am affected her. To all that didn't know him, Tim appeared as some easy going good old boy from down the street, but those that worked with him knew different. The man was sharp. His eyes had been honed in war and saw everything. Once he found something interesting to pick over, he would. Incessantly.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize he was in the kitchen until he brushed past her to get to her sink. "I can't believe you actually went and ordered that coffee table from Ikea. I told you, I could make it for you free. Hell, I got the extra wood back at my house."
"I don't know what's been crawling in and out of that old jumble of stuff you got out back." Rachel protested, "Besides, it was on sale and I like it. Don't it look nice, all professional and shiny?" She teased him.
"Yeah, yeah." He tossed the towel he was using to dry his hands, "If you want some end tables to go along with it-"
Rachel cut him off, "I don't want that old wood, Tim. Find some other way to get rid of it."
Tim took the bowl of potatoes from her, moving into the dining area mumbling about how people didn't appreciate home made things anymore, and how he had piles of extra wood just going to waste.
"I hear Raylan might be looking to put down roots, why don't you ask him if he needs any new furniture?" Rachel suggested.
Tim cocked an eyebrow, "And risk all my hard work be ruined by the inevitable bullets that will surely follow? I think I'll pass."
She snickered as she set the meatloaf and veggies on the table. Knowing Raylan that's exactly what would happen, and then he'd stumble into work and try to talk Tim into replacing it for him. She slapped Tim's hand away as he reached for food before waiting on her to take her seat. "I know you have manners, Gutterson."
"You should take it as a testament to the power of your cookin that I forgot all my table manners." Tim said.
"Wow. Here I thought Boyd was the only one with a silver tongue." Rachel quipped.
She soon put Tim out of his misery and allowed him to fix his plate. She rolled her eyes as he piled his plate high. "You do know it's just you and me, no need to hoard it all."
"I'm a growin boy, Rachel." Tim spoke around a mouthful of potatoes, "I need sustenance."
"Lord, give me strength."
After dinner, he begrudgingly helped Rachel gather up the dishes. "All I'm saying is that I put in a lot of work assembling that table, I deserve a break."
"I got your break, Gutterson."
She surprised him with an apple pie and vanilla ice cream for dessert. Tim faked outrage that neither were made from scratch, but quickly changed his tune when she threatened to take both away.
"You gonna behave?" She teased.
Tim leaned back in his chair, regarding her with a small smile. "Yes ma'am."
And there it was again. That lazy drawl that somehow managed to get under her skin like nothing else. Rachel slowly walked over to where he sat, stopping right next to his chair, "You been saying that a lot lately."
"Just tryin to show respect for my boss." He extended a hand to reach under the long skirt she was wearing, stroking her knee before wrapping his hand behind it.
"Temporary boss." She corrected.
"It's gonna stick." He gave her knee a squeeze, "Who else they got? Me? Raylan?" They both paused to consider what havoc Raylan would cause if he were the one to receive Art's position.
"Don't count yourself out, Tim." Rachel argued.
"I'm not," He countered, steadily stroking the skin of her leg, "I just know there are better candidates." Faster than she could blink, he lifted her to straddle his form in the chair. She placed both hands on his shoulders to steady herself, mindful of the way her skirt rode up to allow for his body between her legs.
"So you won't mind if I'm your boss?" Rachel asked hesitantly. They hadn't exactly defined what they were. Too caught up in the newness of their relationship to put a label on it before being forced to by Rachel's temporary promotion.
"Do I mind gettin bossed around in and out of the bedroom?" Tim grinned as she let out a surprised laugh and smacked his shoulder. She felt her face heat up in embarrassment. "I'm trying to be serious."
"So am I." He ran his hands up under her dress, "You really think I'm the type to get upset that someone who's extremely qualified got a promotion? All because I happen to have the pleasure of being the lucky bastard that gets to warm her bed?" He leaned forward to plant kisses on her collarbone.
Rachel reached around to run her fingers through his hair, "Okay, well, when you put it that way." She tugged on his hair to bring his face up to hers. "Makes a lot of sense." She ghosted her lips over his.
"I'm a real sense makin kind of guy." He tightened his hands on her upper thighs and pulled her closer to deepen the kiss. Rachel moaned as his hands continued to roam wherever he could reach. She finally pulled away, breathing heavily. "Bedroom. Now.
"Yes ma'am."