I've Got You

by Becca Seymour

“That sucks. Are you close?”

  I blanched. At one point we had been fairly close, but things had changed when we were teenagers. It hadn’t stopped me from loving her though. I really had to call Jenna. “Once,” I admitted. “I’d like to be again.”

  When my eyes landed on Davis’s, I saw no reproach, no judgment, nothing but simple curiosity, as if he were trying to figure me out. I understood that. If I told him I actually enjoyed a simple life, I was sure he wouldn’t believe me. My past made that tricky to swallow. But to me, nothing about my life seemed simple these past thirty-two years.

  “That’s good,” he finally said as we turned the corner to my street. “Reconnecting with someone you clearly love has to be the right thing to do.”

  While he was right, I couldn’t hold back my grin. “You also a trained therapist as well as a business owner and chef?”

  Davis chortled. “Nah, this is just my inability to keep my mouth shut and my opinions to myself. You know”—we slowed down as we drew closer to my gate—“I wouldn’t be offended if you told me to fuck off.”

  My brows lifted.

  “Okay,” he chuckled, “I may be a bit offended and tell you no, but it’s okay to shut me down and tell me you don’t want to talk about it. Honesty, right?”

  I thought back to our earlier conversation in the bar. I could be honest, and wanted to be, especially with myself. “No telling you to eff off tonight, so you’re in no danger.” Stopping outside my gate, I turned to face Davis. He wasn’t so close that I could feel his warmth, but if I reached out, my hand would touch skin.

  “Good to know.” I could barely make out his eyes in the darkness and had forgotten to leave on the porch light. But between the stars and the moon and the streetlights, his smile was bright and genuine. When he continued to speak, I exhaled a relieved breath. I didn’t want awkward or weird. “Right, thanks for the company.”

  “Thanks for the cakes,” I quickly added.

  “No problem. So I’ll see you for coffee this week.” It wasn’t a question. “Now I’m going to be a sad, overprotective father and go and sleep in Tanner’s spare bed.” With a grin, he held out his hand, and I happily gripped it and shook.

  Friends. I could totally do friends.

  Chapter Nine

  DAVIS

  In the past few days since my impromptu evening with Scott, I’d spent time shooting the shit with Tanner and Carter, while the former of the two mocked me for sleeping in the spare room on my night off. I’d also survived work with no drama and a steady parade of customers. Not only that, I’d finally pulled my finger out and advertised for some help. I wasn’t sure how I’d work the roster yet. It would all depend on who I selected—assuming I had applicants—and what their strengths were and in what area. It was something I hoped to work out, ideally ASAP.

  While I’d been fully aware balancing being a parent and working would be tricky, I worked more hours than I liked and felt guilty as shit for it. The truth was, I wanted to spend time with Libby. I didn’t want to keep missing out on so much. There was also the fact I was exhausted from the hours I kept.

  I glanced at the time on my kitchen wall. “Shit.” I was running late.

  “Sip, sip, Dada.”

  I cast an anxious glance at Libby, who was elbow deep in toast and jelly; she gurgled at me and giggled. I clamped my mouth shut and forced myself not to react. Libby had been gurgling and muttering words for the past month or so. It was fucking awesome, especially when she said Dada for the first time and wasn’t pointing at Rex but instead had her arms open to me. But I really had to curb my language, or at least get creative. The last thing I wanted was her daycare calling me up complaining that Libby’d been teaching all the other toddlers creative curses.

  “What’s that, baby, you want a sip from your cup?” I picked up her sippy cup from next to the sink and placed it on her tray table.

  She eyed me speculatively then shook her head. “No. Ship, ship.”

  Fuck me dead. She was getting too damn close. “Alrighty. Daddy said ship, ship. We can play with the ship, your boat in the bath later, okay?” With my fingers pressed against her soft tummy, I tickled and was treated to her cooing laughter. After dropping a kiss to her head, I swiped a cloth, dampened it, and proceeded to wipe her down so she was sort of presentable. I was certain the remnants of butter and jelly in her hair would be sticky for later, but it would have to wait for tonight. “Come on then, kiddo.” Unbuckled and in my arms, I collected Libby’s bag and grabbed what I needed for the day and headed to the car.

  It didn’t take long to reach her daycare, Daisy Chains. It was a nice place, and they’d looked after Libby from when she was just a few months old. I took pride in knowing they adored her. It made leaving her every day that little bit easier. “Hey, Jenny,” I greeted when I stepped into the sunshine-bright room.

  With a push of her glasses up the bridge of her nose, Jenny gave me a small wave. “How are two of my favorite people?” She stepped around the entrance counter toward us.

  “Great, thanks, if not a bit late.”

  She nodded. “I can take her from here. Just sign her in and you’re good to go.”

  Before I released my girl, I pressed kisses to her cheeks and forehead. She smiled and grabbed my nose and blew a raspberry, remembering a game we’d been playing together. I laughed. “Hey there, stinker.” I blew a small raspberry on her cheek. “Love you, baby. I’ll see you a little later. Uncle Tanner’s picking you up.”

  With wide eyes, she looked at me. “Ump.”

  “Yep, Uncle Tanner.” Ump was the best we’d managed so far. We all understood, so it worked for us. It just became hilarious when Carter was Carp. I handed Libby and her bag over to Jenny before stepping over and signing her in, adding the note that Tanner would be collecting Libby today for me. “Thanks, Jenny.” I waved at my girl and blew her a kiss.

  “No problem. Have a good day.”

  The morning air was fresh, with just a small amount of chill to it. I liked mornings, probably as a result of so many early starts baking and preparing food in the early hours. It didn’t make getting up with Libby any easier though. She’d been through a stage of waking up every hour or so for three months straight at one point. This parenting shit was hard, and doing it by myself while working full-time… hell, I didn’t know how I managed it. Wasn’t quite sure how any parent, single or a couple, survived. Coffee, I expected. It was one of the pros of owning my own coffee place.

  There were times I wondered just how easy life would have been or could be if I had someone else to share my life with. I wasn’t actively seeking, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t lonely, or horny. Scott’s sweet face, complete with haunted eyes, flashed in my mind. Admittedly, I didn’t want to like the guy, but I did. I definitely didn’t want to think about fucking the guy, but again, I did. It had complicated and messy written all over it. While I couldn’t be certain of that, navigating through a relationship with someone who was still coming to terms with themselves, their sexuality, was a hell of a thing. I didn’t know if I had the energy, truth be told. It didn’t matter if he could be totally worth it. If I didn’t have the energy to spend one night away from Libby staying up past ten, then I didn’t see how I could even consider Scott as anything more than a possible friend.

  It didn’t mean he couldn’t star in a few of my fantasies, though.

  Just a few minutes later I parked and stepped into the welcoming scent of fresh coffee and the pleasant chatter of customers. I smiled, welcoming the locals, which seemed to be everyone currently here. It was rare we had unknowns pass through.

  I stepped behind the counter. “Morning,” I greeted Katie. “Everything okay?”

  Along with her usual bright smile, Katie nodded and answered happily, “All good, boss. Libby okay?”

  I bobbed my head in reply. “She sure is. Thanks.” I took a quick glance at Phil, who was serving a regular, before allowing my gaze to roam over the tables and my customers. Eve
rything appeared to be running smoothly. There was a decent crowd in, some whizzing in and out getting to-go coffee and pastries, while others took the time to sit and relax, seemingly in no hurry.

  Pride bubbled in my chest. I’d previously managed a coffee shop, one that specialized in crepes. The owner had let me run things completely, which had really allowed me to get a full understanding of starting and running a place of my own from the ground up. The pay hadn’t been that great, but it had been worth it. This was the reward. I’d gained the knowledge and the experience, made the mistakes, all without risk to myself. It had made the decision to move to Kirkby about eighteen months or so ago completely worth it. Without it, I’d never have had the balls to start up.

  And I was so glad that I did. All I needed now was to continue to step back a little and hand over the reins. My aim was to focus on baking while employing the staff I needed to do all of the front counter work. I was so close to achieving that.

  Balance, I reminded myself.

  “You good here,” I said to Katie, “if I head on to the kitchen?”

  “Sure thing.”

  With a knock on the countertop, I retreated to the kitchen. Before I could start on the few items I wanted to work on, I had to step into my small office out back. It didn’t take long to fire up my PC. Once online, I headed to my account on the job site where I’d advertised the position I was hoping to fill. While I had access on my smartphone, I’d made a deliberate decision not to check work when at home with Libby. It was a slippery slope to mix work with family time or my rare downtime. Hell, I even paid Katie to manage the social media pages we had.

  There were seven applications. Surprise flittered through me. Town was relatively small, with just a few thousand residents, so there wasn’t exactly a huge pool looking for a job in a coffee shop. I wanted someone with some experience. While I’d trained up Phil and Craig myself, I didn’t want to start from scratch again. Not if I could help it.

  I skimmed over all of the applications and scrunched my nose. I thought I knew three of the applicants, possibly. I rarely knew last names, but knew enough of the first names of our regulars—as well as gossip—to work out who three of them might be. None of them would work out. Heck, Harry dropped at least one cup of coffee a week—we now only served him in takeout cups—Joanie had that god-awful spit thing going on around her mouth that would cause us to lose customers so damn fast we’d probably get whiplash seeing them charge out the door, and Calvin swore like a sailor, regardless of where he was.

  The other four didn’t exactly fill me with hope either. One could possibly result in an interview, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.

  Frustrated, I pushed out of my seat and headed to the kitchen. There was nothing I could do about the position at the moment, so it made more sense for me to focus on something I had control over. Chocolate eclairs. Perfect for the afternoon rush.

  It was midmorning when Katie called out, “Hey, there’s someone out front asking for you.” I nodded and quickly glanced around the kitchen to make sure the stove was off before I stepped to the front. Lightness filled my chest when my gaze landed on Scott. He stood near the counter, his side to me, his hands deep in his jeans pockets. I hadn’t had time to study or enjoy the angles of his face before, too involved with conversation or that one hot time we made out. I swallowed hard at the thought. With his high cheekbones and perfectly cut jaw, he was handsome, but not to the point where he looked airbrushed or unattainable. Instead, despite his prominent features, there was a softness that drew me to him.

  He did admittedly look well-bred. I would have smacked myself around the head if I didn’t care about causing a scene. Well-bred? But it was sort of true. While not preppy, the way he carried himself, the straightness of his back, his trim body that he clearly took care of, it screamed of a high-class upbringing. I imagined he was usually clean-cut, perhaps prior to his coming out and figuring out who he wanted to be, but his beard growth was definitely more pronounced than a simple shadow. The bristles were evident with the sun as his backlight, a slight blond in his otherwise dark hair. It looked soft, and I spared just a moment wondering how good it would feel under my fingers.

  Caught up in ogling Scott from the open doorway, I hadn’t realized I’d stopped short to get my fill. Phil’s “Holy crap!” dragged me out of my daze as he managed to prevent himself from plowing into me. “Geez, I didn’t see you there. You okay?”

  Scott’s gaze snapped to mine in that instant. Sure I was wide-eyed, I whipped my head to look at Phil. “Shit. Sorry. Yes, I’ll get out of your way.”

  Phil’s brows dipped low as he took a moment to consider me, but he stepped around me. Pulling myself together, I flicked my eyes back to Scott. This time my smile was instant, as was his.

  “Hey,” I greeted as I stepped around the counter and made my way over to him. I reached out for his hand. Warmth met mine as he clasped it, and we shook while I forced myself to not think about his firm grip, the strength evident in his long fingers, or the sensation creeping up my arm from the contact. His nearness bled into me, affected me, and I wasn’t quite sure the best way to handle that.

  “Hey,” Scott finally said a moment before he released my hand. I wondered if he was as reluctant as I was to sever the contact.

  “Good to see you. Have you ordered a drink?”

  Scott bobbed his head. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. It was quiet but noticeable since I was all too aware of how close we stood. “Is it okay that I’m here?” His eyes searched mine, hesitancy apparent.

  The look, his uncertainty, sat heavily on my chest. “Of course it is, man. It’s good to see you. Let me fast-track your order, and I’ll take thirty.”

  His eyes brightened while his shoulders lost some of their tension. “Sounds good.”

  “Perfect. Just grab a seat.” I jerked my chin at the empty table in the corner of the room. With a smile, he turned and headed in that direction. And when I dragged my wandering eyes from his ass, I sighed and went to make our orders.

  At the machine, I told Katie I was taking a break and that the eclairs were ready to be brought out the front. With a nod, she told me she’d collect them while not so subtly casting curious glances in Scott’s direction.

  “Isn’t that the vet?”

  I didn’t lift my gaze as I heated the milk. “It is.”

  “He’s kinda hot.”

  “Kinda?”

  She snorted. “Well, you know, for an old dude.”

  “Hey.” I angled toward Katie and raised my brows incredulously. “He’s younger than me.”

  Her grin was wide. “Seems perfect for you then. Young and hot, but not so young you’d be a cougar.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think men can be called cougars, even gay or bi men.”

  Katie shrugged and released a snorting laugh. “Whatever. You know what I mean. But still, nice work.”

  With a shake of my head, I didn’t bother setting her straight. She was nineteen, and I swore to God nineteen-year-olds were getting younger every year. Had I ever been that young? I sighed and finished the drink. After giving Katie a friendly wink, I took our drinks over to Scott, who surprisingly sat looking around, possibly people watching rather than having his nose stuck in a phone. It was strangely appealing.

  “Thanks,” he said when I placed his coffee before him.

  “My pleasure.” Setting mine down, I offered Scott a small grin as I pulled out the chair and sat opposite him. “It’s good to see you.” His mouth curved upward and the slightest hint of pink touched his cheeks. I tucked the image away. “What have you been up to the last few days?” I continued.

  With the barest of shrugs, Scott picked up his drink and blew before taking a sip. He sighed contently, and I straightened. “God, that’s good.”

  I laughed. “Why, thank you.”

  “For real, it’s good coffee. I was so relieved and surprised as hell to discover decent coffee out of the city.”

  “T
hat was my hope when I moved and set up. Decent coffee, hell, good coffee is a necessity in life. It certainly is for my survival anyway.”

  “I can relate.” Scott pulled his lower lip between his teeth and nibbled at the center before continuing. “And not much these past few days. I’ve been running in the morning.”

  “You jog?”

  “Run,” he said with a grin. “Go hard or go home.” His eyes almost bugged out of his head as soon as he’d finished, and I couldn’t hold back a snort.

  “One of my favorite sayings.” I chuckled.

  Even though his cheeks heated and turned a little brighter, he took it in stride and gave a toothy grin. He shook his head. “Anyway.” His mouth was still wide with a smile when he spoke. “So yes, run. It’s been a while, so I thought while I had this time, I should start getting fit again.”

  “Good plan.” The urge was there, bold and determined, but I fought hard not to allow my gaze to roam his body to truly appreciate how fit he was. Friends, I reminded myself. At least until we could be something more… maybe… hopefully. “And how are you going with working things out and the whole ‘future’ stuff?”

  His lips flattened out a little. “To be honest, I don’t know.”

  “And you’re okay just to be not working, you know, not earning money?” I was genuinely interested—as well as a nosey bastard apparently.

  “I’m lucky and am living rent-free still. It meant I was able to save a good percentage of my earnings. I don’t think Denver’s planning on returning for a while.”

  “That’s your uncle?”

  “Godfather, but he’s as good as my uncle. He went to college with my dad. He’s a really nice guy. Hell, I’d be lost without him, to be honest.”

  “Oh?”

  He took another drink and brushed a drop of foam off his top lip. “Yeah, we’re close. He’s been a good ally at times”—my brows dipped in confusion—“when I need support with dad and stuff.”

  I was still none the wiser. “Why do you need an ally against your dad?”