“Uh, okay.  Not sure what I’d, um, do with them, but okay,” he faltered.  Coming across like a smitten sixth-grader was the worst!  Paul needed to rally, and fast.  “When we get home, I’ll put them on my laptop,” he explained.  “I’ll, uh, save ‘em to my hard drive.”<br/><br/>Hard drive?  You really are a dirty old man, y’know that, Old Man?  Sod off was Paul’s annoyed response.<br/><br/>Now on the trail that would take them back to the parking lot, it was a bad idea to have her leading the way.  Her sway was a major distraction and he wondered if she gave her swing a little extra oomph.  It was extremely difficult not to gape, and since there wasn’t anything better to look at (one tree looked just like the next, after all), Paul enjoyed the view of her sashaying bottom.  He ever so briefly considered capturing her as a video on his phone, but declined.  With his luck, Charlette would probably bust him again.<br/><br/>Nearing the car, her body English indicated to him that she may have thought the buzz of a cellphone was hers.  They both could have been on the receiving end of incoming messages, but Paul knew for a fact that his phone did indeed alert him.  He’d deal with the text once they were settled at home.<br/><br/>Charlette turned as she waited for him.  He walked toward the passenger side of the car, unlocked the door and swung it open for her.  Once she was settled and buckling up, Paul placed the few things he was carrying in the back seat.  His own seat belt engaged, he started the car and put it in reverse.<br/><br/>What a day, he thought.  What an ass, eh, Old Man?  Hush was Paul’s gentle retort.