by Lacey Black
“You don’t want a drink?” he asks, leaning back and observing me. His gaze feels more like a caress.
“No thank you. I’m driving.”
He continues to study me before nodding. “You don’t live that far, right?”
Shaking my head, I reply, “No. Trace and I live in the apartment above the laundromat.”
Before he can continue, the server returns to fawn all over Malcolm again. She sets down his beer first before scooting a water glass toward me, all while keeping a smile plastered on her lips and her eyes focused on him. In fact, I’m pretty sure she added a layer of lipstick since she left our table a few minutes ago.
Worse, I don’t know why her interest bothers me so much.
I tell myself it’s because it’s just annoying, which it is. I’m pretty sure she couldn’t pick me out of a lineup, but Malcolm, she’d have no problem, even if she was blindfolded. But the truth is, there’s something about the fact she doesn’t even care that he’s sitting with me. She’s openly flirting with him right in front of me, as if I weren’t here.
What if we were dating? Not that we are or ever would but humor me here. She clearly doesn’t care I’m here, her attention solely focused on Malcolm. Yes, he’s gorgeous. Sexy, even. He has a smile that would make a nun throw away the habit and the richest chocolate brown eyes you could get lost in. He’s charismatic and when his attention is on you, he has a way of making you feel like you’re the only woman on the planet. So while I get her response, that doesn’t mean it’s right.
It’s women like this that give all women a bad name.
“Lenora?” I startle a bit when he says my name. “Would you like to order?”
“Oh, yeah. Just a cheeseburger for me. Ketchup only.”
“Fries?”
I know I should decline, especially since I’ve been trying to lose a few pounds, but fries are my weakness. Especially when you have a five-year-old whose diet consists of macaroni and cheese, burgers and fries, and cereal. “Yes, please.”
I swear she glances down at my body and smirks. “And for you?” Josie coos at Malcolm, returning her full attention to him.
“Burger and fries for me too.”
After jotting down the orders on her pad of paper, she pops a hip out and places her hand on his forearm. “Coming right now.”
I sigh, looking down, completely uncomfortable with the situation. I knew this was a bad idea. I mean, I know we’re just having dinner, but is it too much to ask to not feel like the third wheel at the table? Not that I care. Really. He’s a single guy with a reputation that precedes him. He’s free to flirt with whoever he wants.
“Sorry about that,” he whispers, drawing my attention up from the tabletop.
I paint on a bright smile and lift my shoulders. “Not your fault,” I reply automatically, reaching for my water and taking a healthy drink.
He exhales deeply and opens his mouth, as if he’s going to say something, but doesn’t. Malcolm lifts his own glass and drinks, and even though I try not to, my eyes fix on the way his throat moves while he drinks.
“So,” he starts, leaning back in his chair and giving me his full attention, “you left Mason Creek for a while, right? Where’d ya go?”
“Washington,” I reply.
“Did you always want to own a business?”
I snort. “Uh, no. I actually went to school for accounting.”
His eyes brighten. “Really?”
“Surprising, isn’t it? But I was always good at math and accounting seemed like a solid, stable career. Turns out, it’s horribly boring and monotonous. It wasn’t for me.”
“That’s when you started your business?” he asks, seeming completely oblivious to the women in the room who are doing everything they can to catch his eye. His attentiveness is all on me.
“Not really. When I lived in Washington, I had Trace to think about. I needed the financial stability of my job to make sure he always had a roof over his head and food in his belly.”
I can tell he’s processing the information and working through it in his mind. “And his father?” he finally asks, taking a big drink from his glass.
“In and out of our lives when it suited him,” I reply bluntly, always hating to talk about Greg and our rocky relationship.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he states, and by the look in his eyes, I can tell he means it. I may not know this man, but I get the impression he only says what he means, whether you want to hear it or not.
“It’s okay. I returned home about six months ago, and it’s better this way. Trace has gotten to know his grandparents and my sister better than he ever would have if we were still in Washington. Plus, Grayson and his twin girls. He’s been amazing with Trace, as if he’s always been a part of his family.”
“Grayson’s a great man. He was several years younger than me in school, but as adults, we have mutual friends.”
“He is. My sister adores him.”
Our food arrives, and when Malcolm doesn’t pay our server a second of attention after a brief thank-you, she flits away without saying another word. I pile the ketchup on my burger and dive right in, starving after not eating much throughout the day.
Our conversation remains fairly easy throughout the meal, and once he finishes his beer, he switches to water. For a woman who doesn’t open up to many, I seem to be a little loose-lipped when it comes to the man across from me, and I have no idea why.
He’s completely the opposite of pretty much everyone I’ve ever dated. I’ve always been attracted to the blue-collar guys with grease or dirt under their fingernails. Guys who work with their hands instead of pushing pencils in an office somewhere. Yet, here I am, practically confessing my life’s story to a man wearing an Oxford shirt and imported leather loafers. I know this because I picked a pair up off his bathroom floor and noticed the handstitched tag.
What is it about Malcolm Wright that I’m attracted to? Besides the fact he’s drop-dead gorgeous, because…duh. He’s the type of pretty they write romance novels about. Dark eyes, dark lashes, strong, stubbled jaw, and a body that a blind woman would appreciate. He’s charming. Probably too much so, actually, and he knows it. He knows every woman—single or married—wants to see him in his boxer briefs. I know this because they were on the bathroom floor too.
Hell, if I was married, even I’d take a moment to appreciate the view.
“How’s your food?” he asks, most of his cheeseburger already gone.
“Really good. I don’t know why their burgers are so dang good,” I inform, dipping my fries into the glob of ketchup two at a time.
“It’s the extra grease in the kitchen. If I’m watching a game here with friends, I always get the nachos. It’s just canned cheese, but it’s good. Like when you go to the ballpark.”
My eyebrows draw together. “You’re a baseball fan?”
“Played all four years for Mason Creek High. I root for Seattle but have never been to a game at T-Mobile Park. I hope to rectify that someday,” he says after taking his final bite of his burger and moving on to his fries.
“Trace and I went to a Mariners game last summer. My firm would get tickets a few times a season.”
“I’m completely jealous. How’d he do?” he asks, polishing off his fries before pushing his plate away.
“Not bad. A jumbo pretzel with cheese and cotton candy helped. He passed out in his seat by the seventh inning and had to be carried out of there.”
He laughs, a deep, rich sound that makes my blood zing through my veins. “I almost had to be carried out of a Cubs game in college, but for a whole different reason,” he replies with a wink. “My roommate was from Chicago, so I went home with him a few times and we’d catch a game. Either Cubs, Bulls, or Blackhawks, depending on the season.”
I finish off my own fries just as my phone chimes with a notification. I pull it from my little wristlet to make sure it’s not regarding Trace. The last thing I’d want to do is ignore a message if he�
�s sick or hurt. That’s one of my biggest fears as a single parent, so even though it’s rude to check your phone on a date, I do it anyway.
Wait.
Not a date.
Trying to keep myself from overanalyzing tonight—again—I say, “Do you mind if I check this?”
“Of course not,” he replies instantly. “It could be about your son.”
I flash him a quick grin before typing in my security code and pulling up the message app and tap on my sister’s name.
Laken: YOU’RE ON A DATE WITH THE MAYOR?!?!?!?!?!?!?
My face flushes a deep red, I know it. I can feel the burn of mortification spreading quickly through my veins. I find myself dropping my chin and covering my face with my hand, all but dropping below the table to hide.
“What’s happening?” he asks, worry marring his features. “Is everything okay?”
I peek through my fingers and sigh. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” I grumble, setting my phone down without replying. “Apparently, someone in the bar has been super busy since we arrived.”
It only takes a second for realization to set in. He glances around, as if trying to read who might have already activated the gossip texting tree that flourishes in Mason Creek. I mean we’re talking gold-star gossip here. Someone was probably already alerting their friends the moment we stepped through the doors together. “Wow, that didn’t take long.”
I sigh, throwing my napkin onto my plate and pushing it away. “I should have known. It’s one of the main reasons I didn’t miss small-town living.”
He chuckles at my discomfort. “You get used to it.”
“Hey, Malcolm,” a woman practically sings as she walks by, running her finger across the back of his neck and sipping a fruity mixed drink.
“Did you?”
Malcolm seems to consider my question before he replies, “I guess. I’m just used to it. And I always seem to be a hot topic, which is probably why everyone has taken an interest in you tonight. I apologize if I put you in an uncomfortable position.”
I take a quick look around the room, realizing that many patrons are looking our way. “It must be difficult, being the subject of town chatter all the time.” I throw him a quick grin and wink, just to let him know I’m teasing.
He laughs once more, the sound causing my thighs to clench. “I suppose I keep the busybodies very occupied.”
Understatement of the year, but I don’t know him well enough to comment further, so I keep retorts to myself. “I should probably head home.”
He nods, pulling out his wallet and dropping a handful of bills onto the table.
“I can pay for my meal,” I offer, reaching into my wristlet for cash.
“I insist. I invited you to join me. Plus, I put you in the line of fire for town chatter.” He waves off my hand, refusing to take my money.
Standing up, we make our way to the door. This time, Malcolm doesn’t place his hand on my lower back, and I’m both glad and saddened by it. A part of me wants his touch and enjoyed it way too much the first time, but a bigger part doesn’t want to add more fuel to the fire. I’m already going to have my hands full convincing my sister there’s nothing between the mayor and me, but if we leave together touching, I’m sure it’ll be front page blather in the MC Scoop, the local town gossip blog by Tate Michaels.
“Night,” Malcolm hollers to Jack before opening the door for me. Outside, the night air is much cooler than the afternoon, causing me to shiver. As we approach the lot, he adds, “I appreciate you joining me for dinner.”
“Thanks for the invite.” I stop at my car and turn to face him. This is the point where I turn all awkward and uncomfortable. I’ve never been good talking to guys, which is probably why I don’t date a lot. In fact, my serious boyfriends total a solid two, as does the number of guys I’ve slept with in the last decade.
God, I’m such a loser.
But I have a son to consider, and he comes first.
Always.
When he doesn’t reply, I add, “I guess I’ll see you around?”
Malcolm nods and opens my car door. “You will.”
“Next Thursday,” I blurt out, diving into the driver’s seat.
“Next Thursday,” he confirms, the slightest smile toying on his lips. Very full, very sexy lips. Delectable lips. Completely kissable lips.
Oh man, I have to stop thinking about them.
“Yes. Next Thursday.” Now I sound like an idiotic parrot.
He grins widely, showing off his perfectly straight, white teeth. “Unless we run into each other before then.” The way he says it lets me know I can probably expect to be running into him again. Malcolm tosses me a wink and shuts my door, tapping on the roof as I start the engine.
I pull from the lot and glance in my rearview mirror, finding Malcolm still standing there, watching me go. Something unsettling overcomes me.
I like that he’s interested.
I like it a lot.
Chapter 7
Malcolm
Is it weird I’m excited about the monthly finance committee meeting?
Yes, weird and completely out of character for me.
The finance committee is the one meeting I always dread, because there’s always some argument about how the budgeted money should be used. But tonight, I’m excited to be here. Why? Because it’s Monday, and Lenora cleans the building.
The moment we’re done approving recommendations to take to the full city council next month, I adjourn the meeting and make my way to my office with minimal chitchat. Fortunately, there’s a baseball game on tonight and half the council members are anxious to go home to watch the second half.
Before I step into my office, the sound of a vacuum in the front office catches my attention. I instantly smile. I’ve thought of her nonstop since Thursday night, which makes it very hard—pun intended—and uncomfortable during the workday. Nights weren’t much better either. Except then, I could take care of that pesky problem in the privacy of my own bedroom. Or shower. Or office, like late last night.
I move to the large front office, where I find Lenora running the vacuum by Shana’s desk. Her back is to me, which gives me the perfect view of her backside. She’s wearing black leggings again, showing off her tanned calves and accentuating one of my favorite attributes.
Her ass.
Leaning against the wall, I watch her work. She’s meticulous, as I discovered last Thursday night when she cleaned my house, going over the main traffic areas twice before moving on to another part of the office.
When she reaches the end of the room, she turns off the vacuum, spins around, and startles. “Jesus, Malcolm!” she bellows, covering her heart with her hands.
“Sorry,” I reply with a chuckle. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s okay,” she quickly insists, winding the cord for the vacuum around the handle, giving me another amazing view of her ass. “Is your meeting finished?”
“Just finished up.”
“Okay. I’m almost finished here. That’s my last room to clean,” she says, wheeling the vacuum toward me to take it down the hall.
As she passes, I catch a whiff of something fruity, either lotion or shampoo, and all I want to do is find out where the scent is coming from by running my nose over every inch of her body.
“Have you already completed my office?” I ask, causing her to pause when she’s beside me.
“I have. I started there.”
A corner of my mouth tips upward. “Got that one done and out of the way while I was busy, huh?”
Leni blushes, those dangerous hazel eyes that appear in my dreams, gazing at me with embarrassment and wonder. “Yes, just to be safe.”
I lean forward, invading her personal space, and have to refrain from kissing those perfect lips. “Too bad. I might have enjoyed the interruption again.”
“Oh, Malcolm, you’re still here.”
Now it’s my turn to startle and glance down the hallway toward the coun
cil chamber meeting room, but don’t pull back from Lenora. “Raymond. I thought you were going home to catch the Dodgers game.”
The older man’s eyes sparkle with mischief as he grins at me, his eyes bouncing from Leni to me. “I was, but remembered we were going to discuss the meeting for the contract for the water treatment facility.”
I almost chuckle, knowing there was no such discussion in the works. “Well, then we better step into my office. Shall we?” I ask, finally moving away from where Leni stands frozen in place. “Talk to you later, Lenora.”
As much as I don’t want to, I leave her standing in the hallway and join Raymond in my office. Even though I’d much rather stay with her, I need to put her and that delectable ass out of my mind and focus on my job. It is the reason I’m here, right? Not to stare at her.
Though, that doesn’t sound like such a bad idea either.
Today was a bitch. I worked at the law firm all morning and had court at the county courthouse all afternoon. A case I thought was a slam dunk was anything but, and even though it ended in my client’s favor, it was a long afternoon.
Now, all I want to do is go home and relax.
And spend the next few hours watching Lenora clean my house again.
It’s Thursday evening, and I just pray I’ll be there before she arrives. It’s already almost seven, much later than I usually get home, but after court, I had to go back to the office for a while. Not only was my dad there, but my grandpa stopped by too, which resulted in me telling them about court and catching up on what’s going on at a nearby golf course.
Now, I’m finally pulling into my driveway, happy to see I have arrived before Leni. I jump out, wishing I had time to shower, but knowing it’s not going to happen. Unless I plan to have her find me standing in the bathroom naked again.
Not a bad idea, actually…
I park in the garage and hop out of my car. Before I can close the door, I hear a car pulling into the driveway. I set my briefcase down, prepared to offer to assist her with unloading her supplies, but can tell something’s not right. Lenora gets out of her car looking frazzled. I’m heading in her direction immediately.