by M. E. Carter
Carson happily runs away, tossing his tashe away and coming back for more. Liam grabs another used napkin and hands it right over.
“You don’t have to do that. I can clear the table off for you if it’s too cluttered.”
“No way. I know what’s about to happen.” Carson takes off across the room again and I make a note to empty that bin soon. “My nephew was on self-imposed trash duty for a year at that age. Don’t take one thing off this table. I’m preparing myself to keep Carson entertained for a while.”
I have to admit, the man is a genius.
Kiersten comes into the room, carrying a box full of napkins. I hustle over to her, taking it out of her arms and putting it back behind the bar until we can get to it.
“How’d it go?” she asks, looking around. “He okay?” Her eyes finally find him as he darts back and forth from the table to the trash can. Her chin drops to her chest before looking back up at me knowingly. “He put himself on trash duty, didn’t he?”
“Now where were you when we needed a translator?” I ask with a chuckle.
“I’m sorry he’s bothering everyone. I’ll get him situated with his tablet again.”
I grab her arm to stop her. “Leave him alone. He’s happy and he’s entertaining the guys.”
“The guys?” she asks with amusement.
“The guys on Heath’s football team and apparently the guys on the Slinger’s hockey team, too. They seem solid and they’re enjoying Carson.”
We look over just as Shawn lifts Carson up and tips him over so he can reach for something in the middle of the table. When he sets him back down on the floor, they go in for a fist bump before Carson takes off running again.
Kiersten’s lips quirk up. “Well, he is a good trash man.”
“That he is.”
Now that that’s settled, we ease back into our routine, working around each other as we chat.
“Jaxon will be here soon, hopefully. I’m not in the mood to hear Sweet Home Alabama quoted to me all night long even though I’m sure it’s coming.”
“Never saw it.”
She stops and stares at me. “What? It’s right up your alley. Reese Witherspoon and that guy whose name I can never remember.”
“I remind you of a non-memorable guy in a romantic comedy? I need to up my game,” I joke.
“He’s a small business owner and has rugged good looks,” she replies. “Plus, there is the famous line… you have a baby? In a bar?” She tosses in a thick Southern accent that I assume is character based.
“Ah. Now I see the connection.”
Kiersten’s phone rings and she glances down at it, her face immediately falling. “Oh no.” Looking back up at me she asks, “Do you mind? It’s Jaxon.”
“Go ahead. It’s important if he’s calling.”
As she answers, she scrunches her nose and reaches up to dig her fingers in her hair. I try really hard not to notice what the movement does to her breasts but to no avail. Judging by the looks on some of the guy’s faces across the room, I’m not the only one whose attention she caught. I narrow my eyes in their direction, but they don’t see me.
“Hello? Hey.” Her head drops and I know it’s bad news. “No, it’s okay. It’s not your responsibility. I just screwed up this time. It happens. Yeah. Seriously Jaxon. Stop apologizing. Okay. Yeah. Okay. See ya.”
She hangs and up and sighs, avoiding my gaze and trying to fight back tears.
“Jaxon got stuck at school. He thought he was done but it’s going to be a couple more hours. I’m sorry, Paul. I can’t believe I screwed up this much.”
“Kiersten, stop.”
“I just hate leaving you in a lurch but we both know I can’t keep Carson here with me all night.”
“Kiersten, I’m not mad.”
She blinks back the tears. “You aren’t?”
“No. You’re never late. You never call in. If anything, it’s about time you stopped putting the rest of us to shame,” I joke.
Her lips quirk up, but not quite into a smile. Knowing her, she’s probably not just embarrassed, she’s probably crunching numbers in her head on what she can cut back on if she doesn’t work tonight. Which gives me an idea. It’s probably crossing the line, but right now I can’t find it in me to care.
“You know I live in the back, right? In the apartment?”
She furrows her brow briefly as she watches Carson make yet another trash run. “Yeah.”
“Why don’t I call Tammy in to cover me and I’ll take him to my place when she gets here?”
A mixture of emotions crosses Kiersten’s face—relief, confusion, resolve, and finally denial.
“That’s really nice of you Paul, but I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re not asking.”
“I know. But it’s Tammy’s day off.”
“And just yesterday she was asking if I needed her tonight because her husband is working,” I interject. “You know how much she hates to be home alone.”
She nods. We’ve both heard it many times before. There’s nothing Tammy hates more than an empty house and nothing to do.
“But you’re my boss,” Kiersten says, not able to let it go. “Don’t you think it would be weird to be watching one of your employees’ kids?”
I shrug because I don’t actually find it weird at all. “We’re a small business, Kiersten, not a corporation. Things are different here. It’s no stranger than all your friends showing up to do renovations.”
“I think they showed up for the pizza, beer, and sledgehammers.”
“No. They stayed for the pizza, beer, and sledgehammers. They showed up because it was the friendly thing to do.”
She worries her lip trying to decide if she wants to trust me with her child. I get it. Not everyone is safe these days. But I’m one of the good guys and right now I want to make her feel like she’s not alone. Like she has an extended army of people to help her when she needs it. “If it makes you feel better, I have a mountain of paperwork I need to knock out. We’ll go to the apartment, put on some cartoons, and when Carson knocks out on the couch, I’ll get some work done away from the office where I can concentrate better anyway.”
Still fidgeting with her phone, she looks up at me, decision made. “Are you sure? I mean, look at him.” Carson runs by with a straw wrapper in his hands. “He could do this all night.”
“So, all the trash in my apartment will be picked up. Sounds like a sweet deal.”
She cocks an eyebrow at me.
“I’m kidding Kiersten. We’ll be fine. I’ll take you back with us and show you around so you can point out anything I might need to put up high really quick. You’ll just be out here. We’ll be close enough you can check in on us, or I can come grab you if we need you.”
She sighs and I’m almost positive it’s with relief, although there may be a bit of resignation mixed in.
“Fine. Okay. I will gratefully take you up on this offer, but only if Tammy agrees,” she tacks on quickly. “Once he falls asleep, he’ll be fine, but promise me you’ll come get me if you need anything.”
“We’ll be fine, Kiersten. I promise. He’s three. How hard could he be?”
TWENTY
Kiersten
“How hard could he be?”
If only Paul knew how many times I’ve regretted saying those words, he would have refrained from uttering them. Instead, he basically jinxed himself. Now I’m almost afraid to go back to his apartment to check on the boys.
When Paul initially offered to watch Carson for me, I was hesitant at best. Not because I don’t trust Paul. He’s never been anything but kind and Jaxon has raved about him for years. It wasn’t a safety or trust issue. It was more about allowing myself to cross that line.
It’s no secret that I have a crush on my boss. Lauren won’t let it go and keeps pushing me to do something about it. And Heath—he’s never said he knows, but he certainly finds ways to harass me about it.
I still don’t
know where my feelings came from. Maybe it’s just admiration that morphed into something more real. Or maybe it’s genuine attraction.
Either way, I knew the second I accepted his offer of watching my son that that would be it. The crush would get even deeper and my chances of heartache would get more significant. And yet, I did it anyway. Only a few hours later and I already know my hunch was right.
I’m in trouble. Big trouble. My feelings continue to grow and they’re not going away any time soon. But honestly, how could I not find Paul attractive? The way he treated me when I was late and didn’t have a babysitter—the way he treated Carson as he put himself on trash duty—quite frankly, it was swoon-worthy. And I’ve never used the word “swoon-worthy” before.
Double-checking that the doors are all locked, I flip the last of the lights off in the front. It was a busy night, but a lot of fun. It’s wild how fast Heath’s recommendation to his friends brought in new customers, but that’s exactly what we’ve all been hoping for. I almost got teary closing out the till when I realized we’d pulled in more in one night than we did all last week. That’s not including tips. I thought Tammy was going to fall over when she calculated how much cash she was taking home.
All in all, it was a fantastic night. I’m hoping Paul’s night was just as exciting.
Actually no. I hope his night was boring and calm, but I don’t have high hopes.
Winding my way around the back hallway, I slowly open the door marked “private residence,” hoping not to disturb anyone who may be sleeping. The apartment is nice, if not a little on the small side. I’d best describe it as an efficiency, except there’s a partial wall separating the bedroom area from the rest of the place. It doesn’t leave much of a sound barrier when trying to be quiet in the middle of the night.
Peeking in, I see Paul sitting upright, head rested against the back of the couch, snoring lightly. Carson’s head is on his lap, his baby lips slightly open as he breathes deeply.
And now I’m swooning again.
They look so precious together, I can’t help but document this moment. If I’m going to melt into a puddle, Tammy can fan her cheeks right along with me later. That’s my justification for snapping a quick picture, whether I’m lying to myself or not.
Taking an extra moment to just watch them, I thank my lucky stars for once again putting people in my life that give my son the care he deserves. Funny how I was angry Spence’s family essentially drove us out of town a few months ago, and yet it ended up being the best thing that could have happened to us.
I creep over to the couch and put a hand on Paul’s shoulder, shaking gently.
“Paul,” I whisper. “I’m back.”
He lifts his head, eyes slowly opening. It takes a second for him to register what’s happening, but he eventually comes to.
“Hey,” he says quietly rubbing the heel of his hand in his eye. “How did it go?”
“I should be asking you the same thing,” I say with a small chuckle. “Looks like he wore you out.”
Paul strokes Carson’s hair gently and there go the butterflies in my stomach again, fluttering all around.
“I vastly underestimated how long this kid can stay awake. He spent most of the night running circles around the island in the kitchen.”
“I should have warned you about that. That’s his go-to move when he’s overly tired. But it looks like you eventually got him to sleep.”
“Or he eventually got me to sleep. Could go either way.” Paul sits up a little, careful not to jostle Carson too much. “What time is it anyway?”
“Close to four.”
His eyes widen. “Holy shit. Was it that busy? Why didn’t you come get me?”
“Relax. We only had a few more customers come in after you left. Tammy and I just wanted to make sure the till was balanced correctly so we did it twice. It was… a lot different than normal.”
I can see the gears turning in Paul’s head as he mulls over my words. I’m thrilled to deliver such good news to him, I’m just not sure he’s fully comprehending it in his sleepy state.
As Paul carefully stands up, I realize we can have this conversation later. It’s time for us to go. Daylight will come soon and we have an appointment. I reach out to pick up my son but Paul beats me to it. “I got him.”
“It’s okay. I don’t want you to have to walk through the parking lot barefoot.”
“I’m not going to the parking lot,” he whispers and carefully pulls Carson to his chest. He snuggles right into Paul’s large frame, barely waking up enough to lick his pouty lips. It warms my heart to see my son feeling comfortable. It also makes me long to give him a daddy. “You guys are staying here tonight after we talk about that till. He’ll never go back to sleep otherwise.”
I’m too stunned to argue with him as he carries Carson into the bedroom, especially since he’s right about my son’s sleep habits. It’s one of the reasons Carson stays over at Lauren’s so much.
While I wait, I plop down on the couch and begin cleaning up the mess my little tornado of a child left in his wake. I’m wiped from a long night, but it usually takes my brain a couple of hours to settle enough to finally sleep anyway. If Paul wants more information, I have enough energy left to give it to him.
He’s back quickly and sits on the edge of the small coffee table so we’re facing each other. His hair is sticking up and his stubble has grown in, his eyes still a little groggy from sleep. God, he’s sexy. He’s also my boss who just did me a huge favor. Down girl.
“Thank you again for watching Carson. I never meant to put you in a bind.”
He shakes his head slowly and I swear I see heat behind his eyes. “It’s never an inconvenience when you care about the person you’re helping.”
He grabs my hand and interlaces our fingers, the heat of his palm both burning my skin and soothing the ache of loneliness in my body. It’s been so long since someone touched me like this, without needing something from me, just to show affection. It confuses me. I know Paul is attracted to me, but he’s made it clear there can never be anything between us except friendship.
I should pull away, but I don’t want to.
“You amaze me, Kiersten,” Paul says quietly, his eyes boring into mine. “You carry so much on your shoulders, and yet you always have a smile on your face.”
“If I don’t smile, I might cry.”
“That’s what I mean. I admire your determination and strength. And you’re raising such an amazing little boy. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
“I’ve never met anyone like you either,” I admit quietly. “Who cares deeply about the people around him and wants to make them feel cared for. Even just the simple things like adding a house rule about pictures to your business.”
“Nah. That’s about keeping my customers happy so I can make money.”
I shake my head because he’s wrong. “No, that’s you sacrificing the easy marketing route of hashtags and social media so people who have limited options have a place to be.”
“You make me sound like a saint working with the disadvantaged.”
“And you make it sound like you don’t understand that having a job where a camera is in your face all the time doesn’t mean you don’t deserve anonymity sometimes, but you do.”
His thumb runs over the top of my hand as he quiets, mulling over my words. Maybe I’m biased because I’m friends with Heath and I know how vicious people can be online, but having a welcoming place to be is a treat. I don’t understand how Paul doesn’t see what a kind thing he’s doing. It’s as if his own humility trumps his ability to see himself completely. I know he thinks he’s making decisions specifically to grow a new business, but I personally think that’s why it took so long for him to put together a business plan. He had to find the right need first.
“Well,” he says, his eyes locked on the movement of his thumb. “Either way, I appreciate all your hard work.”
“Like you said earlier, it’s never
an inconvenience when you care about the person you’re helping.”
His eyes snap up to meet mine and there’s something new in his eyes. Part question. Part resolve. Lots of heat.
“Kiersten.” He says my name quietly, his body beginning to slowly lean in.
“Yes?” My body responds, moving just as slowly, knowing he’s not going to stop again.
“Tell me you don’t want this.” It’s a beg. It’s a plea. It’s an understanding that if we cross this line there’s no going back.
But I can’t give him the answer he wants. Or maybe I give him the exact answer he wants. I’m as unsure as he is. The only thing I know is if tonight is all I get, I’ll take it. “I can’t say that because it wouldn’t be true.”
And then his lips are on mine. Firm and warm, exploring and tasting. When his tongue finally invades my mouth, there’s no stopping the frenzy that begins.
I climb onto Paul’s lap, thrusting my fingers into his hair and pulling him close. His arms wrap around my waist and we both groan when he presses me down harder on his straining erection. It only lasts a second before he resituates us on the couch, me on my back, him nestled between my legs as he grinds and mimicks the motion of his tongue.
Suddenly he pulls back, eyebrows drawing together. “Birth control?”
“IUD,” I answer and his body immediately slumps with relief just before he kisses me again, our movements taking on a desperation now that we both know what’s coming.
My hands leave his hair and push under his shirt, desperate to feel his warm skin. I run my hands over the muscles of his hard back, loving the feel of them flexing as he moves.
“Please take this off,” I beg, pushing at the material until he sits up long enough to pull it over his head and toss it on the floor.
He gazes down at me and I’m sucker punched with emotion. It’s been so long since someone has looked at me like I’m the most beautiful thing in the world. So long since fingertips have grazed my skin and lips have made their way back down to nip at my neck. So long since I’ve been looked at like a woman worthy of reverence. I’ve never been worshiped like this by a man who was willing to wait months as he got to know me. My lips part as the gravity of this moment hits me.