by Anna Brooks
“I’ll drive you.” He starts to get up, but I rush around the bed and push him back down.
“No, I can drive. Get some rest. You barely got any sleep last night.”
“Oh, but baby it was worth every second.” He rolls the words off his tongue and winks then tries to cover up a yawn.
No sense in trying not to laugh because when he acts like this, when I get the carefree side of him, he’s hilarious. “Go back to bed.”
“No. I’ll take ya.”
“Erik. Go back to bed. I slept before I came downstairs—”
“You sure did come downstairs. Probably woke up the neighbors.”
“Shut up, oh my God.” I reach over and smack the side of his head. “Before I walked downstairs, I got to sleep. You didn’t. I just have to work for a few hours then I’ll be back.”
I see the wheels turning in his head. He knows I’m right. “Polls, I should really take you.”
“Who do you think took me to work before I met you, handsome? I’m perfectly capable of driving myself.”
He reaches out and slides a finger through my belt loop then pulls me between his legs. “Can’t sweet talk me, babe. I’ll be ready in five minutes.”
I shove his shoulder and head downstairs, knowing I won’t win, even though I think I was pretty close this time. He’s not overbearing with the way he… protects me, though. Doesn’t make me feel like I’m a burden or that it’s a hardship for him to do things like take me to work.
Independence is something that I can have while letting my man do what he needs to in order to give himself peace of mind.
While I’m waiting for him, I make myself a bowl of cereal. I lean against the counter and look around the house. It looks so different than it did last night. After we had sex on the couch, I stayed in his arms and with him still inside me and we talked. He explained that as he was giving me my space, he had that urge. The one that always crept up on him before he’d go binge drink.
Instead of doing what he has always done, he took satisfaction in dumping the alcohol down the drain, no longer letting it control him. I didn’t even realize he still struggled with that. I suppose it will always be. The fact that he’s recognized it, though—that’s huge. And I know he’s strong enough to beat it.
He also kept trying to apologize for what he did, and I kept trying to tell him it was okay. After I really realized why he did what he did, I truly am not mad at him anymore, and honestly don’t know if I ever was. I think I was just more flustered with the slew of events from over the weekend.
Just as I’m finishing my food, Erik comes downstairs looking far too good for getting so few hours of sleep. He holds his hand out for me, and we walk to his car, where he opens the door, and then holds my hand again as he drives.
The sexy jerk has to go and get me all worked up again by kissing me silly and slipping his hand up my shirt outside the diner. Rayne must have seen because when I walk in, she hoots and hollers at me. She notices my ring, and we talk a bit about my whirlwind weekend, and she starts to basically plan my wedding.
We chitchat a bit, and she mentions she can give me a ride home since she has to go that way anyway after work today to go to the grocery store. I reluctantly get Erik to agree but am pretty sure he’s glad he won’t have to wake up earlier to come and get me because he sounded tired as hell.
When there’s a lull, I ask Rayne about possibly giving me some cooking lessons. I never thought to ask her before. When I’m here, I always serve. Cooking was always Rayne and her parents’ thing. She excitedly agrees to be my teacher, and we set up a time once a week for me to come in a little earlier so I can start learning the basics; things I probably should have known a lot earlier in life… like that baking soda and baking powder are two completely different things.
Right now, though, Rayne and I are in her car driving back to my house. “Hey, if you wouldn’t mind, I’ll go to the store with you. There are a couple of things I want to get, too.”
“Sure, no problem.” Rayne steers us into the parking lot and we pause our conversation until we get inside the store.
As we shop, we idly chat, and when I round the corner, I come to a dead stop when I see Wyatt.
Chapter 25
Erik
Maybe I’m paranoid. Maybe I’m jaded from what happened with my mom. Maybe having a father whose job was to protect people made me cynical from the get-go, but the fact that Polly is getting a ride from someone else right now isn’t sitting well with me.
I realize I was young when my father passed, but what he taught me isn’t something I can forget. Aside from that, it’s just me. Hell, my parents named me Erik because it means powerful ruler or some shit. From birth, I had a stereotype to live up to. It’s in my blood, and the older I get the more that desire weighs me down, or maybe it’s just Polly.
Like right now, knowing I’m not with her even though I could be is killing me. If something happened to her… Christ, something did already happen to her because of me, because I wasn’t there. That was the moment it all became clear. When the words of wisdom from my dad finally resonated with me and I understood what he must have felt the night he walked in and saw my mother’s dead body.
I look at the time on my phone again, and realize that if she came straight home, like she said she would, she’d have been here forty minutes ago. I’m unlocking my phone to call Rayne, since I was at least smart enough to get her number when Polly called me, when a car stops in front of the curb.
My girl’s blond hair is the first thing I see through the window, and I suddenly lose about two hundred pounds from my shoulders. When she gets out of the car, she opens the back door and grabs some bags then waves to Rayne. I do the same as she drives away and I meet Polly in the middle of the walkway.
Before she can even say hi, I tug her to me and kiss her. “Too much time away from you.” Not even a single ounce of care is given knowing I sound like a whipped pussy.
“Sorry, I stopped to get some groceries. I wanted to have something nice for dinner tonight.” She holds up the bags and shrugs, but something about the way she says it doesn’t sit right with me.
“Everything okay?” I take them from her and follow her in the house then set everything on the kitchen counter. “How was work?”
“Good. Nothing exciting.” She reaches in the bag and pulls out a rotisserie chicken. “I love these things.”
“Me too. Polls, what’s up?”
Before reaching in the bag again, she looks at me. “Don’t judge me, okay?”
“Never.”
“I’ve just given up on the fact that I can’t cook.” She reads off what’s in the containers as she lifts them out. “Pasta salad. Potato skins. Cucumber salad. I kind of felt like I needed to get vegetables, even if they’re swimming in sour cream.”
“That’s why you’re giving off a vibe?”
“A vibe?” she asks.
“Just seem a little flustered.”
“While I was shopping, I just realized how much love you.”
My neck kinks, and I cross my arms. “You realized that at the grocery store?”
“Yeah,” she whispers. “I just had a reminder of how lucky I am that we ran into each other.”
Nothing could make me forget how I felt the first time I saw her. “Did I ever tell you I saw you before you almost fell at my feet?”
“Um, no. You most certainly did not.”
Not much in life embarrasses me, but admitting this to her totally does. “Well, I did. And I could have easily moved out of the way, but I saw your tits and wanted to feel them pressed against me.”
She grabs an orange from the bowl on the counter and throws it at me. “You’re such a pig.”
I catch the flying fruit and shrug at her. She’s got great tits, what can I say? Not only that, but she’s just fuckin’ perfect. “You don’t even know how much I love every single thing about you, do you?”
“Even the fact that I can’t cook?”
I get in her space and brush some hair off her face. “Especially that.”
Her nose scrunches. “For such a smart man, that’s a pretty dumb thing to say.”
“No, it’s not. Because even though you have trouble with cooking, you still try. You say you’re going to give up, but you never actually do. And even though you hate that you mess up, you still find a way to feed your man.”
“My man, huh?”
“Yeah, baby. You belong to me just as much as I belong to you.”
Love when her eyes go all soft. Love that she still acts a little embarrassed when I tell her what she means to me. Love her… so damn much.
* * *
“I hear you had an exciting trip. Polly filled me in,” Brad states. Polly and I are back at Complexity, and these past couple of days home have been great. We’ve gotten back into our routine, and I really do like the domesticity of it.
I haven’t had a chance to talk to Brad yet today because we kept missing each other’s paths. He and his husband, Kenny, are in Brad’s office where I stopped on my way back from taking a piss.
“Yeah.” I smile. Can’t help but be fuckin’ ecstatic about Polly agreeing to marry me. Nothing, not even me being an insensitive prick about finding her real parents will ruin that. “It was phenomenal.”
“When’s the wedding?” Kennedy asks with a sly grin.
“I don’t know, man.” I grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge. “Not in a rush, just needed to get somethin’ on her finger and hear the words, ya know?”
They both nod.
“Plus, I want everything to settle before we focus on that. Kind of hard to start planning a future when the past is still a shadow.”
“I hear that,” Brad mutters. He phoned me yesterday and told me that his brother is packing up his shit and moving out of town. He’s officially done with him and plans on never seeing him again. “Well, do me a favor and at least give me a heads-up when you decide to move back to Cali.”
I’m confused by his comment. “What are you talking about?” Did Polly tell him something she hasn’t told me?
“When she was telling me about the trip, her face got all dreamy and shit. She liked it there.”
“I do, too. But this is home, ya know? She’s comfortable here.”
“Ehh.” He waves me off. “I’m not a gambling man, but I’d put money on the fact that she asks to go back there.”
A crash from the bar area has me hauling ass to determine what happened. Zack, the bartender, and Polly are bent over, picking up large pieces of glass. “You guys okay?”
Polly looks up at me and nods. “Yup. We’re good.”
“What happened?”
“Wasn’t paying attention and totally fuckin’ ran into her with a damn tray of empty glasses.” He curses under his breath. “I’m so sorry, Polly.”
“Hey”—she rests her hand on his arm—“totally not a big deal. Why don’t you go take a break for a minute?”
“Nah, I’m good,” he argues.
“Erik’s here now, and it’s your turn anyway. I’ll finish cleaning this up. Go get some air or something.”
Zack looks up at me, and I nod in agreement with Polly. “Go ahead, man.”
He tosses a handful of glass into the trash can and gets up then goes down the hallway leading to the back.
Vinny comes over with a broom and nudges Polly out of the way. “Here, let me sweep the rest of it up.”
Polly begins to get up, and I reach down and help her. She smiles at me before going behind the bar to wash her hands then fills a couple of pitchers with beer.
“What was that about?” I ask her as she makes her way back.
“I don’t know. Some girl was just in here and they were arguing. She stormed off and he followed her. Then halfway through the bar he decided that he wasn’t going to anymore I guess, because he turned around and ran right into me.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” She pushes up on her toes and kisses my chin. “Gotta deliver these.”
I give her a pat on the ass as she passes me. She yelps and spits her tongue out then heads to the table to deliver the beer.
“That your girlfriend?” A man’s voice comes from my left, and I turn to see a guy, probably about my age, wearing a tie and sipping some bourbon.
Immediately, my hackles go up. “Fiancée.”
He shakes his head as if to call bullshit.
“You got something to say to me?” My feet take me closer to him, and I lean down so I can lower my voice in order for him to hear me. “And before you do, I suggest you think very clearly about what I’d be willing to do to anybody who tries to jeopardize what she and I have.”
“I’m not in the business of trying to take someone’s woman. I’ve got no problem in that department, buddy.” He chuckles like an entitled asshole.
“Yeah, but when you see one you want who you can’t have, it kinda presents a little challenge, doesn’t it? Makes you want to see how far you can go, how much you’d be willing to risk to get your hands on someone as hot and real as her, huh?”
He doesn’t disagree but doesn’t acknowledge what I just said, either. “Like I said, I’m not interested in another man’s woman. You obviously know what you’ve got. You’re a lucky man.” He slams the rest of his drink and stands then takes his suit coat off the back of the chair and puts it on. Without another word, he nods and heads toward the exit. I wait until I see the door close behind him before searching for Polly.
She’s on her way back already and heads straight to the computer to type in an order.
“Hey, who was that guy who was sitting at the end of the bar? With a tie?”
Her eyes dart over to the now empty bar stool then she looks back at me and shrugs. “Don’t know. He’s been here for just a little bit. Talked to him a couple of times when I was here.” She points to the end of the bar where she picks up drinks and orders.
“He come on to you?”
“No. Just small talk.”
“What did you talk about?”
She laughs. “What’s it to you?”
“’Cause he asked me about you, and I don’t like a man I don’t know talking to and asking after my fiancée.” My voice comes off a little harsher than I intend for it to, and Polly’s laughter fades.
“It really wasn’t much. Said he was in town on business. Asked how long I’ve worked here, what good restaurants there are to eat at.”
“What else?”
“I don’t know, Erik. It was a couple of two-minute conversations, and that’s it. I swear. He didn’t once come off as creepy or try to hit on me.”
Fuck, I hate that I get like this sometimes. Makes me feel like an animal. “Okay. Sorry, honey. Not tryin’ to fly off the handle here, but I just didn’t like what he had to say.”
“What did he say?”
“Just told me I was lucky.” It might seem like a compliment, but any man knows some guy you don’t know says that to you, it’s not a compliment. Not necessarily a threat, but that’s what it feels like. I’d even admit I might seem irrational, but I’ve seen firsthand the way stalkers start and how they operate. Doesn’t have to be a celebrity for someone to become infatuated with another person.
She puts a hand on my chest and one on the side of my face. Instead of being sweet like she normally is, she pats my cheek then walks away, laughing. “Yeah, you are.”
Once she walks away, I gather my composure again. I don’t know how my dad did it. I’m ready to maim some suit because he was talking to Polly. Don’t think it’ll ever go away, but I’m learning how to deal with it better.
The rest of the night goes by relatively uneventfully. Zack is in a mood, and I avoid him until the night is over. I walk around the bar and help everyone clean up. I really like this about Brad. He doesn’t make just one person clean. Everyone, including him, pitches in, and all the employees take more pride in the place. I really like everyone who
works at Complexity and hope that as time goes on nobody ends up being a douchebag.
I’ve only been here a short time but already feel a kind of ownership every time I walk in here. There’s something prideful about knowing you’re responsible for making sure someone is safe, for making sure the whole bar is safe. Polly’s helped me get rid of the insecurities, and it allows me to actually enjoy working like this.
I know I can’t personally protect everyone, which is why I’m really damn glad there’s such a kickass crew working here. Having co-workers you can trust and who you know have your back make the world of difference. Which is part of the reason I still go back to The Firm when I can. I need to make sure to keep the comradery with the guys, and they need to make sure they remember that I’m the boss. I don’t throw my weight around often, but I don’t want them to forget.
They have no clue about the issues I’ve had with alcohol. Probably because they’ve never seen me drink. I got really good at hiding it and making sure to do my suffering alone. But knowing I don’t have to live like that anymore is an indescribable feeling.
It’s a feeling I will do whatever it takes to keep, to protect. And if that makes me seem like a crazy son of a bitch, then so be it.
We all leave at about the same time, but like always, I’m the last one to walk out. Polly leans into me as we make our way to my car. My girl is tired and so am I. Knowing we get to go home and I get to hold her while I sleep is the best feeling in the world. That I’ll be able to wake up with her and start the day with her being the first thing I see is something that won’t ever get old.
I still question how I got so lucky as to have her stay after I dropped the bomb about her parents. I’d never actually force her, but I was sure as hell going to try to make her stay and hear me out. I’d sat downstairs, and when it got to be too much, I headed for one of my spare stashes. Had the fuckin’ bottle to my lips and happened to glance over and see her purse.
It wasn’t even a question when I started dumping everything down the drain. I’d already jeopardized her, already fucked up more than once, and wasn’t about to do that again.