The Mining Town

"What was the motivation?" There was no judgement in her question, only curiosity.

"It was my father's shop before I took it over. He got sick. So I came home at first to help, then to take it over.

"I'm sorry."

"It's ok, like I said earlier, I've moved on...I guess to answer more fully, I had worked at the shop growing up. I've always been around cars, and I enjoy the work. But what really made up my mind was seeing how the shop is needed in the community. Besides Mike's shop and mine, there aren't that many auto repair places in the county."

Patricia looked at him with kind eyes and nodded in understanding. Their drinks were delivered, and they ordered their dinner.

"So, you wanted to help the community?"

"I don't know that I'd put it that nobly. I liked the work, and the fact that it helped the community was a welcome bonus. I don't know, I guess I just foundSh it fulfilling."

Patricia pulled back slightly from the table and the smile she had been wearing deepened.

John tilted his head and looked at her curiously.

"I'm going to amend the crazy story I was going to tell you about why I did what I did today."

"Oh?" John replied, the curious look still adorning his face.

"Yup, I did what I did today because I found it fulfilling."

John paused for just a moment before laughing, lifting his glass to toast her he said, "Touché."

Patricia

The conversation flowed just as easily as it had the night before. They outlasted the rest of the patrons in the dining area and eventually moved to the bar, which by then had thinned out. She knew the evening would be ending soon. He had said he wanted to get a start on Mrs. Fertig's car. She kept wondering, why it was so easy to be around him? She had been around attractive men before, even nice ones...but he was different...what was it?

It hit her then and she couldn't help but smile...he had no expectations. He was just enjoying his time with her, come what may.

"What?" John asked. She realized she was smiling at her revelation.

"Nothing, just realizing how enjoyable this evening has been."

"It's been enjoyable for me too...but I do have to get going. I want to get an early start tomorrow."

Patricia agreed that it was time for her to go to bed as well. John paid the bill and held the door for her as they headed out. Taking a few steps outside, Patricia then turned to face John.

"John, I can tell that you have no expectations this evening...but I do have one...I would like a good night kiss."

He smiled and took a step towards her. Lifting his hand, he cradled her jaw and neck, slowly pressing his lips to hers. She waited a moment before using her tongue to gently caress his lip. That was all it took. Both of their tongues dancing in a kiss that was slowly growing more heated. John's other hand went to her hip. One of Patricia's hands going to his chest. Their moment suddenly broken by more patrons leaving the bar. The kiss abruptly ended, but they stayed close. Staring into each other's eyes.

She finally broke the moment, "I don't want this to be it. I'd like to spend another evening with you."

"I'd like that too." John responded.

"How about tomorrow night?" Patricia asked, biting her lip slightly as she did so.

"You sure you don't mind waiting around all day?"

She smiled at him, "I'm sure I can find something to do."

"What time?"

"Just text me when you're done with work, and we'll figure something out."

"Sounds great!"

She leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips and pulled away slightly. "Goodnight, John."

"Goodnight, Patricia."

Back in her room, Patricia didn't bother pretending tonight. Her clothes came off and she lay down, knees spread, ready to pleasure herself. The orgasm tonight was not quite as mind-bending as the night before, but just as satisfying.

She added tonight's panties, equally as soaked as last nights, to the plastic bag she had the first pair in, so she didn't smell up her clothes, or the room. She headed into the bathroom to clean up and get ready for bed.

Her rituals complete, she laid down, a feeling of contentment washing over her. She had one of the most deep, wonderful sleeps she could remember. She dreamt of a man holding her. A man that made her feel safe and fulfilled. A man with no expectations.

John

On the ride home, he tried to temper his excitement at how the night had gone. There could be no doubt that she was interested now. He brought himself back a couple of notches by reminding himself that he was still an auto mechanic in a small mining town.

Even still, it had been over a year since John had dated. In a small town, everyone knows each other. He knew the women that were still single were not a good fit for him. He knew his last girlfriend wasn't a good fit, and believed that she knew it too, but they tried anyway. After a few months they both agreed it wasn't working and parted amicably. Working as much as he did, meeting new people outside of town was difficult.

Sleep was harder to come by than he thought it would be, considering how long his day had been. He teetered back and forth between excitement and tempering expectations until he realized he would be awake until dawn if his mind kept doing this. He resolved to just be the person that he was and if that was good enough for Patricia, then so be it. Not an easy resolution to stick to in a society that seems to want people to be anything except what they are.

He settled his mind and ever so slowly, sleep finally came.

Patricia

Patricia had no such issues. Even though she had only known John a couple of days, the way her body and mind reacted to him told her everything she needed to know. It did not mean it was a sure thing, nothing in life is, but she was very happy to dive headfirst into whatever this thing was that was burgeoning between them.

Patricia was up early the next morning. She showered, and in her bathrobe, she performed the obligatory email check. She started her research for the day. She found a small coffee shop that also made their own breakfast pastries, then she found a market with a deli.

About an hour later, Patricia found herself seated next to the window in the coffee shop, finishing the last of her pastry. It was simple, not one of the ornate creations one might find in the city. She chuckled at the thought, remembering a particularly pretentious co-worker who had stood in line at 6 a.m. at a donut shop that had blown up on social media. Just so they could post a picture of themselves with their donut on Instagram. No, this pastry had just the right amount of creativity put into it. The flavor was the main event, and it did not disappoint.

She left the coffee shop and plugged the trail head into her GPS. It took only about fifteen minutes to get there, and another twenty to hike to one of the many waterfalls in the area. It fit with the rest of the town. It was not some giant splendor you would find in a National Geographic documentary. It was perhaps twenty-five feet high, dropping into a pool that then fed into a brook that headed down to the river. To Patricia's eyes, it was perfect. She sat Indian style on a rock by the pool, a feeling of contentment washing over her. She sat there for a while before being brought back by the sound of other hikers approaching. She chatted amiably with them for a few minutes before heading further up the trail toward a lookout point that was supposedly a little over a mile up the trail.

The lookout was beautiful as well, looking down one end of the valley before it turned to the east. She stayed only a few minutes, preferring the relaxing views and sound of the waterfall. Filling her waterfall fix for the day, she headed back down the trail to her car. The deli entered in the GPS; she headed back onto the road.

Standing at the counter, she had a slight pang of fear as she realized that she had no idea what he would like. Looking at the selections, she picked a sandwich with ham, turkey, and Swiss, that they then put a few slices of avocado on. Patricia figured if he hated avocado, he could just pick it off. She also picked up a bag of chips and both a regular and diet soda, again not knowing which he preferred. Items bought and paid for, she headed to the shop as it was approaching noon.

John

John already had the new/used motor in Mrs. Fertig's car and was tightening the bolts to the motor mounts when he heard a car pull up. He looked outside to see a familiar Audi parking in the lot. He had pangs of both happiness and fear hit him at the same time. Happy of course to see Patricia, but he still had several hours of work to do and didn't want to disappoint her. Washing his hands, he headed into the waiting room just as Patricia entered. She plonked the bag from the deli on the counter and smiled at him.

"I had a hunch that you probably haven't eaten yet."

"Um, no I haven't...thank you!"

As if sensing the uneasiness he was feeling, Patricia continued,

"Don't worry, I know you probably still have a ton of work to do. I just wanted to drop this off to you."

He tried not to show how much that information relaxed the tension that had been building.

"But I did want to ask you, what were your thoughts about dinner tonight?"

He hadn't really thought that far ahead. There were a couple of other places to eat in town, but the Greenwood was his favorite and he knew he wasn't going to suggest going there again. In the instant it took for the thoughts to run through his mind, Patricia continued as if she sensed he didn't have an answer to the question.

"I had a thought, and please let me know if it's too forward..."

The statement perked him up a bit...where was this heading?

"How would you feel about me cooking for you at your place?"

That question would immediately fill many 30'ish men with panic due to the state of cleanliness of their homes. But not John. His mother had kept their house immaculate, and now that John lived there, he would feel it a desecration to keep it any other way.

"I think...I know, I'd really like that." He replied, the smile broadening on his face.

"What time do you think you'll be finished here, and please don't think I'm rushing you; any time is fine for me."

"I have to finish the engine swap, plus a few small jobs, so I should be done at four."

They continued chatting for a few more minutes. Patricia telling him about her morning and telling him to text her if he finished early. She would meet him at the shop, and he could lead her to his house. They said their goodbyes and Patricia gave him a kiss on the cheek before leaving.

Patricia

During her morning research, Patricia had found a small art gallery that had opened to support the burgeoning art scene in the town. There was also a small museum that focused on the town's mining heritage. She visited both, having lovely conversations with some people that were new to the town as well as folks that had been there for generations. It gave her some good perspective on the changing demographics and attitudes in the town.

Her afternoon tour over, Patricia headed back to the market for supplies. She was going to make a stuffed chicken breast. A recipe her mother often made when they had moved to the farm. Her parents had gone all-in on the transformation to a simpler life, including their cooking.

She gathered the necessary items in her basket, making sure she did not assume that John would have some of the spices she needed. She grabbed a six pack of Stella, but also a couple of bottles of wine, just in case he would like to partake with her. She was just about to head to the check out when John texted that he was done for the day. Perfect timing, she thought. She checked out and headed to the shop.

When she pulled into the shop, the doors to the bays were already closed. John stepped out of the front door, turned to lock it and stepped over to the car.

"Are you all set? Do we need to pick anything up?"

"No, I got everything I need at the market."

"Great, follow me. It's only about ten minutes away."

She smiled and John headed to his truck.

They pulled out of the side street his shop was on and headed out of town. The road meandered back and forth; sometimes the road was right next to the river, others you couldn't see it through the trees. They were driving one of the latter sections when John began to slow. He then turned left into a gravel driveway.

Patricia followed John into the driveway. The trees were thick, but you could make out a dwelling ahead. The features solidified as they drew closer, and the trees thinned out.

A split-level ranch came into view. The dark siding helping it to blend into the surroundings and make it feel like part of the forest. John pulled his truck onto a concrete apron in front of the three-car garage. Patricia parked next to him.

As she got out of the car, she could hear the river immediately.

"Oh my! Is the river right behind your house?"

John just smiled and said, "Follow me."

They walked around the side of the garage, which was situated at the end of the house, closest to the driveway. As they walked to the back side of the garage, there was a wooden gate that John opened. It led onto a wide wooden decked walkway that ran along the back of the house. Patricia gasped, as the river was right there, just down what looked like a sheer rock wall probably forty feet below them.

She gasped again when she saw where they were heading. The walkway led to a deck that was built even with the lower level of the house, so about six feet below where they stood on the walkway. It extended probably twenty feet from the house, over half of which was cantilevered over the river.

Patricia stopped following him. She stood, mouth agape at the beauty. John realized she had stopped and turned to look at her. A grin on his face.

Patricia finally found her voice, "This is amazing!"

John joked back to her, "It doesn't suck, does it?"

"Are you kidding? It's amazing." The view stopped her brain from coming up with any other superlatives.

"Did you build this?"

"Oh no, my granddad built this. He was an engineer for the mine. He designed and built it in the sixties. Paid some of his guys from the mine to help him construct it. I doubt it could be built today. Too many permits and town busybodies would say it isn't safe."

Patricia looked at him with the slightest hint of concern at the last sentence.

"Oh, don't get me wrong...it's safe. I've seen the structure holding it all up, it's probably five times as strong as it needs to be. Also, it's been here since the sixties, it's not going anywhere."

Patricia surveyed the deck some more. "It looks so new though."

"I replaced the decking with composite stuff a few years back. We used to have to replace the wood every fifteen or twenty years because of the environment it lives in. Hopefully the composite stuff will last longer."

He walked further out onto the deck and Patricia followed him.

"I also put a bunch of lighting in. It looks great at night."

Patricia could only imagine.

They headed back around front so she could get the supplies she had purchased for dinner. They went through the front door this time, pausing in the kitchen to drop everything off before John gave her a tour of the rest of the home. He explained how his parents had started to remodel some things in the 90s, starting with the bathrooms. They had eventually finished the kitchen about fifteen years ago. John had remodeled the master bath again about two years prior. It was the first to be initially remodeled and he felt it was a little dated.

Tour complete, Patricia headed to the kitchen to start the prep for dinner while John went to take a quick shower.

John came back in the kitchen about ten minutes later, freshly showered and out of his mechanics overalls.

"What can I do to help?"

"I bought some wine, it's in the bag right there on the counter. Would you mind opening it? I bought some Stella as well in case you wanted that."

John put the Stella in the fridge and started opening the wine, while Patricia worked on trimming the chicken.

John pulled out two wine glasses and poured for both of them. Handing her the glass he clinked his to hers.

"Cheers."

"Cheers." She replied and took a sip while John did the same.

"This is good." John commented.

"Yeah, I've had this one before. I wasn't sure if you were a wine drinker, but I thought it would go good with the meal."

"I was mostly a beer guy, but I dated a girl for a bit in college that liked wine. She taught me about it and I also acquired a taste for it. I have a few bottles in a rack in the dining room. I'll occasionally open one and have a glass on the deck, but honestly, it's better to drink wine with company."

"I couldn't agree more!" With that, Patricia clinked his glass again.

John

They moved easily around each other. Patricia concentrated on the chicken, while John cut up the vegetables. They discussed how to cook them, and John had shown her the grill basket he often used for vegetables. Patricia agreed that grilling them sounded wonderful, so he headed outside to start the grill.

Once the chicken was in the oven, they stood around the kitchen island and chatted for a few minutes. John then headed outside to start the vegetables.

Vegetables complete, he transferred them to a bowl and brought them back in the house while the grill cooled down. Patricia was just pulling the chicken out of the oven when he walked back into the kitchen, so he got out some plates and put them on the island.

"Umm, do you want to eat in the dining room, or..."

"No way! We are eating on that amazing deck of yours!"

John just smiled and turned to start putting a tray together with forks and knives, salt and pepper, some napkins, and the wine on it. He took it outside and put in on one of the tables set up near the railing closest to the river.

He came back inside to find that Patricia had served them both. They gathered their plates and wine glasses and headed out onto the deck.

Patricia

The dinner was excellent, as was the company. Their plates had long been brought back inside. The kitchen had been tidied up. Two bottles of wine had been consumed and they had just opened a third.

John had turned the lights on for the deck. The ambiance the low voltage lighting that was built into the deck and posts was wonderful, Patricia thought. But what really amazed her was the lighting under the deck. There were several fixtures with powerful lights that lit up the river in both directions as well as the forest across the river from them.

They sat on an outdoor, L-shaped sectional that was situated in one corner of the deck. The conversation continued to flow easily. John paused for a moment and looked at the third bottle of wine they had opened.

"Neither of us is going to be in any shape to drive tonight. You can sleep in one of the spare rooms."

Patricia gave him a small smirk.

"John, do you really think I'm going to be sleeping in one of your spare rooms tonight?"

He smiled back at her, "I didn't want to have any expectations."

With that comment, Patricia laughed out loud. Taking a moment to compose herself, she turned to him, "Well, let's finish these glasses and then we can start on my expectations."

John's smile left his face for a moment, "In all seriousness Patricia, we've both consumed a fair bit of alcohol, I don't want to..."

"Stop." Patricia actually put up her hand as if she were trying to stop traffic.

"Do you think I actually came over here to cook dinner with you and then head back to a hotel room?"

John smiled and Patricia continued, "I wanted, what I believe is about to happen between us, long before any wine touched my lips."