Dropkick My Heart: Powerhouse M.A. Series

by Winter Travers

  “How am I supposed to get home if you have my keys?”

  “I guess you’re going to have to call Tate and tell him to bring back my keys.”

  “He’s not going to be awake for hours.”

  I shoved them into my pocket. “Not my problem.”

  “You’re not playing fair, Cookie.”

  I grabbed the basket for the coffee grounds and a filter from under the counter. “I have twenty minutes until customers start showing up. Find what they did, and quick.”

  Kellan flexed his fingers but didn’t say anything. He turned and looked around. “What time does Sage get here?” He started searching under tables and moving chairs around. I don’t think he had a clue what he was looking for.

  I poured some beans into the grinder. “She’s not. She only works half a day on Saturday, and then has off Sunday and Wednesday.”

  “So, who’s helping you today?”

  “Um, me, myself, and I?”

  Kellan turned around. “You’re going to run this shit by yourself today? Why does Sage need so much time off?”

  “Because her son likes to spend time with her, too.”

  Understanding dawned in Kellan’s eyes. “Ah, I didn’t know she had a kid. Or a husband.”

  I quickly ground the beans and dumped them into the filter. “Had.”

  He quirked an eyebrow at me. “What does had mean? She leave him?”

  I shook my head and flipped on the coffee machine. “No, she loved him, still does. He was overseas when his platoon got hit by a roadside bomb. He was the only one who didn’t make.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Kellan whispered. “That fucking sucks, Cookie.”

  I swallowed around the tightness in my throat I always got when I thought of Sage losing her husband. They were great together, and I knew Sage still missed him like crazy. “Yeah, it really does.”

  Kellan went through all the tables, then he headed into the bathroom. I prayed to God he didn’t find anything in there. I finished up a pot of decaf, then headed to the small freezer in the back to pull out cookies. Every Monday or Tuesday, I made four huge batches of cookie dough, froze it, then just pulled out little pucks of dough every day to make fresh cookies.

  I was bent over the freezer, a bowl in my hand when I heard Kellan yell. “Mother fucker!” I assumed he had found whatever trap Tate and Dante had set. I finished filling up my bowl with cookie dough, set it on the counter, then cautiously headed down the short hallway to the bathroom. The door was closed, but I could see the light under the door, and heard Kellan mumbling under his breath.

  “Um, everything okay in there?”

  “Depends on your definition of okay.”

  Well, that didn’t sound good. I put my hand on the door handle and tried to open it. “Can I come in?”

  Kellan opened the door, and I looked around. Everything looked normal. Everything except for the toilet paper on the floor. “You wanna tell me where your cleaning stuff is?”

  I hitched my thumb over my shoulder. “Under the sink.” Kellan tried to walk past me, but I grabbed his arm. “What happened?”

  Kellan growled. “Shrink wrap on the toilet.”

  I tilted my head and squinted. “Why would they…Oh,” I mumbled, realizing what happened.

  “Yeah, I’ll clean it up.”

  I followed him back to the kitchen sink and opened the cupboard underneath. Three bottles of laundry detergent fell out and spilled all over the floor. I screamed and held onto the sink as the floor instantly became slippery. Kellan grabbed me around the waist, pulled me to his body, and held onto the sink with the other hand. “Holy fuck, Molly.”

  “Me? I didn’t do anything.” I tried to bend over to grab the bottles, but could barely stay on my feet.

  “Why didn’t you have the covers on them?” Kellan managed to bend over, hold onto me, and grab one of the bottles and drop it into the sink.

  “I didn’t do this. This isn’t my soap!”

  I watched over my shoulder as Kellan moved his arm down my body, stretched, and tried to reach for another bottle. His feet slipped, and his ass ended up in the huge blue puddle of soap. “Fucking Tate,” he swore.

  I giggled as he slammed his hand on the floor, splashing soap in his face.

  Kellan looked up and shook his head. “And what are you laughing at?”

  I bit my lip and struggled not to laugh at the small drop of soap on his cheek. “Not a thing. I was just wondering if this was how those bubble parties start.” I snorted and put my hand over my mouth.

  “Yuck it up, Cookie. We gotta figure out how we’re going to clean this up without sliding all over the place.”

  I nodded to the basket that was over by the front door. “I’ll try to make it over to the door. I just need to make it there.”

  Kellan grabbed the two now empty bottles of soap, and I dropped them into the sink. The whole floor behind the register was now covered in blue soap, and it was slowly starting to seep past the register. “Easy, Cookie.”

  I made it two steps when I felt my right foot slip, and I ended up ass over tea kettle on top of Kellan. “Shit, sorry,” I mumbled as I struggled to sit up.

  Kellan was now completely laying down in the soap, and my body was sprawled out on top of him. He wound his arms around my waist and splayed his hands on my ass. “You really can’t stay away from me, can you, Cookie?”

  I smacked his shoulder and rolled my eyes. “I see your assyness is showing again.”

  “Come on, I know deep down you really like my assyness.”

  I was going to see the back of my head if I kept rolling my eyes every time he spoke. “Just help me up so we can clean this up.” I glanced at the clock and winced. “Crap. Think we can get this cleaned up in three minutes.”

  Kellan smacked my ass and sat up, lifting me with him. “I’m going to say that there is no way you are going to get this cleaned up. I’ll be amazed if you get to the door in three minutes.”

  He was right, but I was searching for a bit of positivity. I looked down at the blue soap all over the floor and realized there wasn’t any positivity in this. “Right, well. Help me up.”

  Kellan’s hands circled my waist, and he lifted me to my feet. I hunched over and held onto his shoulders. “How did you just lift me up?”

  “I own a karate studio and was on the competitive circuit for six years, Cookie. Sitting up with you in my lap doesn’t take much.”

  I thought this over. If we would have been reversed, I would still be laying on the floor slipping around in the soap. “Maybe you should be the one to make it to the door. I’m not the most graceful person even on solid, non-slippery ground.”

  “The only way out of this is to crawl, Molly. Get the towels, throw them on the ground to scoop everything up, then grab the mop.”

  My head snapped up, and I twisted around to see who was knocking at the front door. “Damn, Frank is knocking at the door. That man is always here every morning at six on the dot.”

  “Did you lock the door?”

  I slid off Kellan’s comfy lap, and into the cold, wet soap. “Yes, it’s habit.”

  “Damn, I thought maybe the old man could be our savior.”

  Not today. Frank cupped his hands around his eyes and peeked into the cafe. I needed to get to the door before he called the cops. “No, that would definitely not be Frank. He’s here for the coffee and brownies.”

  “Brownies? You make brownies too?”

  I got on my hands and knees, and slowly pulled myself across the floor. “Yes. Double chocolate and mint.”

  Kellan’s hand wrapped around my foot. “You mean to tell me you’ve made brownies this whole time and you didn’t tell me?”

  I looked over my shoulder at him. “What is with you karate guys being obsessed with sweets? Dante buys all of my cookies, and now you sound like you’re about to drool just over the word brownies.”

  “We work hard.”

  I continued my snail's pace crawl. “And
what does that have to do with brownies and cookies.”

  I heard a huge splat behind me and then Kellan came sliding past me on his stomach. He made it to the edge of the slippery floor and managed to pull himself up. “It means we work hard, so we can eat all of the junk we want.” He patted his stomach and winked.

  I sat back on my butt with my legs tucked under me. “Well, I guess that makes sense. Although, I don’t think I could do it. I’d eat all of the cookies and then be too full to work them off.” Frank banged on the door again. “You better let him in before he breaks the glass. That man takes his morning coffee very seriously.”

  Kellan managed to make it to the door without falling on his ass, and let Frank in. He grabbed the basket and threw a towel at me as he dropped the basket next to the counter.

  “What in the world went on here? Is this one of those bubble parties I saw on TV? Should I have worn my swimming suit today? You should really put a notice up on these things, so we know ahead of time, Molly.”

  Kellan snickered and started laying towels out on the floor.

  “No, it’s not a party, Frank.” I grabbed two towels and started pushing the soap to the drain in the floor.

  “Then, what went on?” Frank looked from me to Kellan and turned bright red. “Oh damn, please tell me I didn’t walk in on some crazy shit from the seventies.”

  “Seventies?” Kellan asked.

  “Hippies.” Frank rubbed his chin and stared off into space. “So many hippies.”

  Kellan shuffled over to me with towels under his feet. “Um, is he okay?”

  I glanced over at Frank and shook my head. “He’s okay. I’m not sure what happened in the seventies, but it obviously scarred him.”

  After fifteen minutes of corralling the soap over to the drain, the floor was semi-clear of the slippery substance, although the same couldn’t be said for Kellan and me.

  Kellan pulled his shirt away from his chest and looked down his body. “I’m going to kill Tate.”

  I dropped the last of the dirty towels in the basket and sighed. “Not if I kill him first. I have soap in places that there shouldn’t be when I have clothes on.”

  Frank had managed to grab the pot of regular coffee and was now sitting at his table by the window with two of his buddies who had arrived. Sunday mornings were a bit slow until the church crowd started rolling in. I had a solid two hours before the rush would come.

  Kellan took his shirt off and tossed it on top of the dirty towels. “I’ll run this over to the laundromat, and then I’m going to grab a shower at the studio.”

  I mentally picked my jaw up off the floor and tried to focus on what Kellan had just said. His perfectly sculpted chest was right in front of me, and I couldn’t form a coherent thought. I licked my lips and wondered if he would let me lick his nipples. Just one, well, both would be better.

  Kellan snapped his fingers, and I gently shook my head. “Huh?”

  “You know it’s usually the girl who has to remind the guy where her eyes are,” Kellan smirked and shook his head. He took advantage of my stupor and reached into my pocket. He snagged his keys and tucked them in his pocket.

  Damn him. Not only was I totally busted for checking him out, but he had also gotten his keys back. Shit. “Sorry, I’m just distracted by, you know, um… getting everything done.” I waved my hand behind me. “You know, coffee.” I clamped my lips closed and pasted a cheesy smile on my face. Shut up, Molly.

  Kellan picked up the basket and put it under his arm. “Give me fifteen minutes, and then you can take a shower.”

  As much as a shower sounded fantastic, I didn’t have any clothes to change into. “I’ll just try to wash off as much as I can in the bathroom. I’ll be fine.”

  “Cookie, your ass looks like you sat on a smurf.”

  I twisted around to look at my butt, and I had to admit that was a pretty accurate description. “I don’t have anything to change into, and I don’t have the time to go home. I’ll just slap on an apron.”

  Kellan shook his head. “Not happening. I have clothes over at the studio you can change into.”

  I sputtered trying to tell him I was fine, but he walked out the door and headed down to the laundromat.

  “Running out of coffee, Molly. I didn’t want to interrupt you and your man, but a man needs coffee.” Frank raised his cup and the coffee pot over his head.

  I rolled my eyes and grabbed an apron from under the counter. I strapped it on, hoping it covered most of the blue on my shirt, but I knew nothing could hide the blue all over my khaki pants.

  The only good that had happened out of this was the floor looked clean, and you could eat off it. I just wished it hadn’t taken three bottles of detergent for it to get that way.

  Ten minutes later, Frank had his coffee pot refilled, and three more customers wandered in looking for an early morning caffeine fix. They all gave me strange looks when they saw the blue all over me, and I tried not to let my backside face them, but that was near to impossible.

  Once they all had their coffee, I turned around, leaned against the counter and closed my eyes.

  I was going to kill Tate and Dante, and I wanted to kiss Kellan.

  If that wasn’t a huge plot twist, I didn’t know what the hell was.

  **********

  Kellan

  I pulled a new Powerhouse shirt over my head and tugged a pair of worn track pants on. Thankfully, I always had a change of clothes at the studio, and even if I didn’t, I always had the stock of Powerhouse apparel to steal from. I left the clothes I had grabbed for Molly on the toilet seat and shoved my feet into a pair of sandals.

  She may hate Powerhouse, but she was going to be sporting our blue and gray logo all day. There was no way she was going to be able to stay in her wet and sticky clothes for her whole shift.

  My soapy clothes were in a pile next to the shower, and I was half-tempted just to throw them away. Tate and Dante had done a hell of a job pranking Molly. They had terrorized the bathroom and the whole kitchen area.

  Brilliant, but not. If I hadn’t been a victim of their pranks, I would have been laughing right alongside them.

  I slipped out the back door that was right next to the back door of the cafe and tapped on the window. Molly was leaning against the counter, her head tilted back, and her eyes closed.

  She jumped when she heard my knock and shuffled over to the door to let me in. “I always forget about this door,” she mumbled while she opened it.

  “Really? I use ours all of the time.” Lately, I had been parking on the side of the building and leaving the parking spots by the front door for parents and students. I slipped in through the door, and she locked it behind me. “I don’t know why you are locking it, Cookie. You need to go get showered.”

  “Kellan, I’ll be—”

  “Molly, I’m not taking no for an answer. Go shower, and I’ll take care of everything over here.”

  She propped her hands on her hips. “Just what do you know about making coffee?”

  “About as much as you know about karate.”

  She laughed and rolled her eyes. “That would be nothing, Kellan.”

  I flipped the lock, opened the door, and motioned for her to go. “Then, you better hurry back before I burn the place down, or serve everyone protein shakes.”

  I pushed her out the door and locked it behind her. “No protein shakes, Kellan,” she shouted at me.

  I shrugged. If she didn’t hurry back, I couldn’t promise what would happen. “Your clothes are in the bathroom.”

  Her arms were folded over her chest, and I swear I heard her growl. She stomped into the studio, and a grin spread across my lips. She may not like to admit it, but I knew she was going to thank me for insisting she go shower. She was going to feel a hundred times better, and look sexy in Powerhouse colors from head to toe.

  “Hey, Muscle! You think you can get me a cookie?” I turned around and saw Frank standing at the counter.

  “You
talking to me?”

  “You’re the only one who’s got more muscle than anyone else here. I’d say it’s a good bet I’m talking to you.”

  I walked up to the counter and rested my hands on it. “I don’t think Molly has any cookies ready right now.”

  Frank pointed over my shoulder. “That time says one minute. Bring me a chocolate chip when they come out.” He moseyed back over to his table and gave me the stink eye when he sat down. I didn’t know what his problem was with me, but ever since he thought Molly and I were getting it on, he had been acting like he wished I would drop dead.

  I walked over to the timer she had sitting next to the oven, and it rattled on the counter. I peeked into the oven and saw two trays of cookies and a small pan of brownies. When did she have time to bake? I hadn’t been gone that long, had I?

  By the time I heard the back door open, I had the cookies off the trays and was loading them into the display case. “Feel better?” I asked as I turned around. My eyes did a full body scan, and I had to say that Powerhouse blue looked damn good on her.

  Her wet, long brown hair was pulled up on top of her head, looking like she had just gone three rounds in bed, and her face was washed free of the regular makeup she wore.

  Molly, the feisty barista, was hot as sin.

  “Yeah, much. Thank you for letting me use your shower. I’m surprised you have one.”

  When we had decided to rent out the space, we negotiated with the landlord that we needed to have a shower. It was nice after a hard work out to be able to clean up without having to go home all sweaty as hell. “It’s definitely nice to have. Although, I never thought this would be a reason we would need it.”

  “Did you get the cookies and brownies out of the oven?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I was surprised you were able to bake that quickly.”

  “I didn’t. Well, I did bake, but just not today. I have pucks of cookie dough and pans of brownies in the freezer. I just pull out what I need at the beginning of the day.”

  “Good thinking.”

  She shyly looked down at the floor. “I, um, better get back to work. My morning rush will be coming in soon.”