by M. E. Carter
“We’ll get to it, I promise. But I kind of need to see what we’re dealing with under there first. If we find any extra issues, I need to know quickly.”
“Yeah, I hear ya.” Blowing out a breath, he moves his head side to side, cracking his neck. “Okay. Let’s do it.” Grabbing a drill, Heath takes off to start figuring out how to take the stage apart.
In less than half an hour, close to a dozen people are here and everyone has had a shot or two of caffeine. Things are rolling and there’s no going back now.
Kiersten and Annika are moving out the old furniture and decide to post it for sale on some social media site. I appreciate their ingenuity since I was just going to throw it in the dumpster. Bringing in some cash for it is a better idea. It won’t be much, but it’ll at least pay to feed all these people.
Lauren, who apparently needs to work out some rage over a disagreement with her boss or something, convinced Jaxon to show her how to use a sledgehammer and is now having way too much fun tearing down the weird railing. Every once in a while, I have to duck when debris comes flying. Like I said—way too much fun.
And the three football players are taking advantage of their upper body strength to pull panels apart and set them aside. From their grunts, I assume it’s heavier than it looks.
Satisfied we’re well on our way to getting things done, I grab a can of black paint and begin prepping to update the bar area a bit.
“Hey, boss. I’m here. Whatcha need me to do?” an unexpected straggler says.
Surprised, I greet Tammy with a hug. “What are you doing here? I told you not to worry about helping out today. It’s your day off with the hubs.”
“He picked up an extra shift so I didn’t have nothing better to do. Besides,” she smacks me on the chest lightly with a scowl. “I may be old enough to be your mama, but I’m not dead. I know there’s something I can do around here to help.”
I snicker. This is why Tammy has been an employee here for years. She’s a hard worker no matter what the task. Still, we’ve got professional athletes that can do the heavy lifting. No reason for her to throw her back out. Besides, I can’t afford a ding on workman’s comp.
“If you can help me prep to paint the front of the bar, that would be great. Then it’s probably cleaning the floors where the stage used to be.”
As if she noticed the newly cleared area, her eyes widen. “Oh wow. That’s gonna be a huge change.”
“We’re going for a modern update. Fingers crossed this will do the trick.”
• • •
Hours later, maybe two, maybe ten, who knows at this point, I sign off on the delivery of the new furniture, thanking the guys who hauled it all in.
I can’t believe how different this place looks already. It’s better than I imagined it would be. With most of the stage and the odd railing gone, we were able to move the dance floor over by several feet. Even with the new furniture that includes a few booths, it already feels more open.
The black paint on the face of the bar makes the wood of the countertop pop. And the black trim gives the back bar some sprucing up and brings out it of the 70s.
We also added some dark tint to the windows. We still get a lot of light during the day, but at night, it’ll hopefully give the inside a little more privacy. The only things left to do now is a quick coat of paint on the main walls, a good floor cleaning, and changing out the light fixtures. But first, nourishment. Jaxon and Annika walk in, right on time.
“Who’s hungry?” he yells and drops a dozen pizza boxes on the counter.
What can only be described as a roar breaks out among the guys and they barrel toward the food. Kiersten and I slip behind the counter and begin making drinks behind the bar as everyone places their orders.
“Thanks for the food,” Annika says kindly before taking a huge bite and groaning in delight.
A few more people grumble their thanks around their food.
“It’s the least I could do. There is no way I would have accomplished this much on my own in a day.”
“It really looks great in here,” Kiersten remarks as she slides Lauren an Apple Pie ale. “Is this the vibe you were looking for?”
“Pretty close, yeah.”
At first, I was nervous about doing black paint in a room with so much wood. But after Kiersten showed me some pictures she found on the internet, I decided to go for it. It makes the room a little more updated without losing some of the country feel.
“Yo, this place is looking hot.” I hand Alex a bottle of Dos Equis. “As soon as we get back from training camp, we need to bring the team here for some downtime.” Frankie and Heath nod in agreement, still concentrating on their food. Pretty sure they’ve already inhaled three large pizzas.
“Just so you know, I’m staking my claim on that booth right there. You might as well put my name on it, Paul.” Frankie points at the black high back booth facing what’s left of the stage. I sprung for a slightly more expensive design, specifically so it would be comfortable. I want the guests here to want to hang around.
Once the pizza is gone, we hang out for a long while, relaxing our sore muscles and enjoying the company and cold beverages. Through all the chatter, I hear someone decide we need to test out the dance floor in its new location. Before I know it, music is piping through the speakers. Judging by the song choice, my guess is Tammy is the one itching to dance. She’s the only one I know who would pick a song this old.
“Come on young pup.” She holds a hand out to Alex. “Let this old dog show you some new tricks.” He quickly humors her and in a matter of seconds, they’re laughing like old friends as she teaches him to two-step. He’s terrible at it.
“For someone who practically dances across that field, he sure is a shitty dancer,” Lauren says with a laugh.
“I doubt you’d be much better at country dancing, short stuff.” Heath grabs her by the hand. “Let’s go find out.” With their height difference, it doesn’t go well and pretty soon they give up the traditional way of dancing, Heath picking up Lauren who wraps her legs around his waist. It looks funny, but at least he’s not bent in half anymore.
Jaxon and Annika aren’t far behind them and soon several couples are laughing and swaying, partially dancing and partially stumbling around from too much beer. Except for Frankie. He’s already made himself comfortable in the booth as promised, bobbing his head to the music.
Turning to Kiersten, I lift one eyebrow. “Feel like dancing?”
A smile slowly creeps up her face. “I thought you’d never ask.”
I take her hand in mine, trying hard to ignore the tingle on my skin. After so many weeks of wanting to touch her, of having to hold myself back, my awareness of this little bit of contact is heightened.
Unwilling to make a fool of myself by trying to two-step, I just pull her close, our clasped hands pressed between us, and we begin to sway.
“Are you glad to have this finally done?” she asks quietly as we ignore the others around us.
“There’s still a few more things to do, but I didn’t expect us to get this far in one day. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have told Dwayne not to come back until Monday.”
Kiersten giggles. “He’s not going to recognize the place. But I kind of hope he takes to the pool table. The more he drinks, the more nervous I get about stray darts.”
“Yeah, that may not have been my best idea.”
She laughs again and lays her head on my chest. I try to resist, but I can’t help it and rest my own head on hers. She smells like whatever vanilla hair product she uses and lightly of some perfumed scent, but I can’t put a finger on what it is.
Regardless, the feel of her body being so close practically makes me hard. That’s a problem. This attraction is problematic in general. She’s my employee. She’s a single mom. She’s eleven years younger than me even if she does act older and wiser than her years.
But no matter how much my head tries to justify staying far away from her, neither
my body nor my heart will listen.
Pulling back, Kiersten looks up at me, her bright brown eyes practically boring into my heart.
“Thank you, Paul.”
“For what?”
“Everything really. But mostly for trusting me with this job. I know I was a long shot since I didn’t have any experience, but it turns out this is my favorite place to be.”
“Unless it’s with Carson, of course.” I smile as I say it. I love watching her face light up at the thought of her son.
“Of course. But being here is a really great thing, too. I miss teaching dance. That’s my passion. But I love the customers and I like working with Tammy. And I like working with you.”
She bites her lip and I know she thinks she’s said too much. She probably has. This chemistry we feel can never be anymore more than that—a feeling. Acting on it would create so many problems for both of us. She needs a man who can provide for her and Carson without her having to pull the night shift at a bar. Carson needs a man who can step into the role of father and have the time and schedule to coach little league and take him camping. Neither of those are things I can provide them.
And yet, I can’t stop staring at that bottom lip she’s biting. Or her tongue when it peeks out to smooth over the indented skin.
Mesmerized by this amazing woman, I feel myself leaning in closer. I should stop myself. I should. But I don’t. I keep inching toward her, our faces mere centimeters apart. My nose brushes hers, our breath intermingling. Just a little closer…
“AHEM,” a loud voice calls and I immediately break out of my daze, pulling away from the one person I want to keep holding.
“Heath!” Lauren chides as they dance up to us. “That was rude.”
Heath leans in when they get close enough and he stares straight at me with a conspiratorial smirk. “Nothing to worry about, huh?” and then they dance away, Lauren still berating him. He doesn’t seem to care that she’s not happy with him, nor does he seem to care that calling me out has embarrassed Kiersten and I both.
Shoving my hands in my pockets, I look at the floor, not sure what to say besides, “I’m sorry. I almost crossed a line.”
When I finally glance up, I can see the hurt in Kiersten’s eyes. Even with a smile affixed to her face, I know I’ve upset her.
“It’s my fault,” she says. “I got a little carried away with my gratitude, I guess.”
We both know that’s a lie, but if it helps smooth over this awkward moment, I won’t call her out.
“Of course.” I nod my head and my lips try to quirk up. They fail miserably. “We both just…” A sigh comes from deep within me because there’s nothing left to say. “Yeah.”
We stare at each other awkwardly, not quite sure of the best way to proceed. Finally, Frankie breaks the discomfort for us.
Reaching out his hand, he bows low and with a lot of exaggeration. “May I have this dance, milady?”
Kiersten’s normal smile is back, the one that makes the customers light up and has me practically melting into a damn puddle. “I thought you’d never ask,” she says dramatically with her hand over her heart, batting her eyelashes.
As I quickly leave the dance floor, so I don’t get run over by the not-so-great dancers, I accidentally catch Tammy’s eye. She winks at me.
That is exactly why I’ve tried to stay away from Kiersten. I only have one other employee at this point and the last thing we need is her either trying to play matchmaker or sticking her nose in the middle of a non-existent relationship.
Well shit.
SIXTEEN
Kiersten
“Paw Patwo! Paw Patwo! Wheneva yaw in twouba!” Carson sings from in front of the television. Actually, singing isn’t the right word. Screaming is more like it. The walls in this place are thin so I have no idea how Nicole is sleeping through it. Carson must have run her ragged yesterday, which is saying a lot since I was the one doing the heavy lifting. Yet I was still the first one up this morning.
Then again, it wasn’t like my thoughts would shut off overnight. I was too busy thinking about Paul and the stolen touches while we were painting. The laughter as we worked. The easy banter we fall into every time we’re together.
And that almost kiss that had me wishing we could be more. But we can’t be. Paul made it very clear that as the boss, he won’t cross that line. And I have boundaries of my own—if someone doesn’t want to put forth the effort to be with me and only me, it’s not a relationship I’ll pursue.
Instead, I’ll just pine over him as I make breakfast, I suppose. The part-singing-part-yelling has stopped so I glance up from the skillet where I’m making my son’s favorite chocolate chip pancakes. He’s now standing stock-still in front of the boob tube, mouth wide open, as he watches his favorite rescue workers learn how to share or something equally as preschool.
I laugh at how cute he is. If someone had told me five years ago that the love of my life would come in a pint-sized package that sleeps with this foot in my face and loves picking up garbage, well, I wouldn’t have believed them. But there he is in all his footie pajama glory.
Still, it would be nice to be loved by a grown man, too, not just a little one.
And just like that my thoughts go right back to Paul, no matter how hard I try to push him out of my mind. But he’s nice. And stable. And honorable. He’s also really easy on the eyes. Even better, I hear how he talks to his customers and he treats his employees with such genuine respect and care. Even when it’s his “off day,” which means catching up on paperwork in the back, he doesn’t want to hang out in his office. He wants to be behind the bar, serving people. Making them happy. I recognize how rare those qualities are and they make him all the more attractive to me. No matter how hard I pretend they don’t.
Flipping the pancake over one more time to make sure it’s fully cooked, I see Nicole come out of the bedroom, rubbing her eyes.
“Good morning.” Her voice is groggy with sleep and I point to the old school coffee maker which has a fresh pot already made.
We’re silent with the exception of the sounds of cartoons until she has a few sips of her first cup of joe. Nicole has never been a morning person. Neither have I, but my body clock is irrelevant these days.
She sits at the small table in silence until she’s finally awake enough to hold a conversation. “Why are you only making one pancake at a time?”
Flipping it onto the growing stack, I pour batter into the skillet again before grabbing Carson’s plate and cutting up his breakfast into bite sized chunks.
“Because I don’t have a griddle. The skillet works fine, it just takes longer.”
She grunts her response, taking another sip. “Why are you up early?”
“Unlike us, Carson is a morning person. He got me up bright and early.”
Another grunt. “I don’t believe you.”
I look up at her, confused.
“I’ve known you my whole life, Kiersten. I can tell when something kept you up most of the night. And I suspect it has nothing to do with my nephew.”
I gape at her and how much more astute she is than I gave her credit for.
“That’s what I thought.” She leans back on her chair, keeping a tight grip on her mug.
“For someone who is just waking up, you are awfully chatty this morning.”
“No deflecting. What gives, Kiersten?”
I sigh and pour some syrup on the pancakes, walking the plate to the table before heading back to the stove. “I … sort of had a moment with my boss yesterday. I just can’t get it off my mind.”
“Explain what you mean by a moment.”
I flip the pancake and bite my lip. It’s one thing to be thinking about what happened. It’s another to tell someone about it. As if verbalizing the moment makes it more real.
“Kiersten…”
I flip the stove off, dumping the final pancake onto the stack. “We almost kissed.”
Her eyes go wide and she starts t
o choke on her coffee. Maybe I should have waited until she was done swallowing before blurting that part out.
Nicole pats her chest and coughs for a few more seconds before squeaking out, “Almost?”
I begin dishing out food, mostly to keep my hands busy while I tell her everything that has happened up until this point—the easy conversation at the barbecue, the smiles when no one is looking, the kiss that almost was until Heath interrupted. Nicole sits in rapt attention as I finally get all the details off my chest for the first time.
“Kiersten,” she finally says when I’m done. “You’re in love with him.”
“What? I am not.” Turning to the living room I yell for my son. “Carson, baby, breakfast. We have pancakes.”
He comes shrieking into the room, chattering about some puppy that got stuck in a tree as he climbs onto his chair. I’m grateful for the reprieve but it only lasts a few seconds before he shoves so much food in his mouth he can’t talk anymore.
I join them at the table, giving Nicole a plate and tucking into my own food. Looking up, I see her just staring at me.
“What?”
One of her eyebrows raises. That’s it. That’s all I get from her. Unfortunately, as her sister, I know what that means, and in a nutshell, she’s not letting this go.
I finally roll my eyes, giving up. “It’s not love. We don’t know each other well enough.” My voice quiets as I admit the one thing I haven’t even said to myself yet. “But… it… could be. Eventually.”
“I knew it!” she shouts and Carson looks up from his plate.
“Know what, NicNic?” he asks around a mouthful of food, blowing crumbs as he talks.
“Knew your mommy is a big fat liar.”
He looks over at me, his eyes glancing over my whole body. “Mommy not fat.”
I ruffle his hair, laughing at how literal he takes things.
“You’re right,” Nicole admits. “But she is a liar.” Turning back to me, she crosses her arms over her chest. “So, what’s the problem?”
“You know the problem. I already told you.”