Coalescence

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Coalescence Page 5

by J. C. Hannigan


  The silence stretched between us, and I swallowed hard.

  “So, this is unexpected. And a little awkward,” I blanched, unable to stop the nervous blurting of things I should keep to myself. I guess that’s what happens when you don’t ask your one-night stand what they do for a living. A smile ghosted his lips, and I licked mine, remembering how those lips had felt on various body parts. “All right, I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if you have any questions.”

  “I have questions.”

  I hesitated just in front of the door, turning slowly to face him, arching my brows and cracking a sideways smile. “Yes?”

  “Your father is my boss.”

  I whipped my head around, making sure the office was still empty. The office rarely ever saw action, save meetings with engineers, but sometimes the shop manager would wander in to look for blueprints.

  Luckily, the office was presently vacant, but I still closed the door more before turning back to him. “Yes, and I’m sorry. I had no idea you were starting here on Monday.”

  “You’re the office manager,” he pointed out, his brow rising as he eyed me, and I winced.

  “I didn’t say I was a good office manager,” I responded. “I knew some guy was starting today, but I didn’t read your folder.” I shrugged helplessly, hoping he’d believe me. It was true, after all. My dad went through a lot of hires, not because he was a bad boss, but because he expected a lot from his employees. If they didn’t deliver, he didn’t hang onto them.

  Alaric let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “All right. Well, what now?”

  “Now, you fill out your paperwork,” I said, gesturing to the table, heart pounding. I needed to get out of this room. Every time I breathed, I could smell him—it made me want to rip off my blouse and pull up my skirt, and that was bad.

  I turned around, opening the door and slipping through it, closing it behind me to keep the scent of his alluring pheromones locked away from my sensitive nostrils, and walked back to my desk.

  Already, this situation was horrific. My intended one night stand was my dad’s new employee. I’d done the naked dance with someone I would have to see every day. And worse still, I’d have to fight this overwhelming attraction to him and his magical cock.

  It was like resisting a huge brick of chocolate in front of you. Diet be damned, if it’s sitting in front of you, you’re gonna sneak a piece. If he wasn’t in front of my face every day, I could let myself indulge in the fantasy of him, bask in it, really. However, with him being here, I had to stop that.

  Sulking a little, I pulled my cell phone from my purse, bringing up my messages and clicking my sister’s name. My fingers flew across my iPhone screen as I threatened to skin her alive if she repeated a word of what I was about to tell her to anyone, especially Dad or Mom.

  Kelsey: OMG. You’re dramatic. Just tell me what’s going on.

  Me: Dad hired Thor.

  Kelsey: WHAT!

  Me: Yup. Thor’s a welder at the shop now.

  Kelsey: …I can’t tell if this is good or bad?

  Me: It’s TERRIBLE Kelsey. He said he wasn’t in a place for a relationship, and neither am I, but I want him again, and he’s now an employee, and it’s all awkward and terrible.

  Kelsey: Hmm. Still not seeing a problem. Wanting someone doesn’t need to mean a relationship. Ever heard of fuck buddies? ;)

  I stared at my phone, my nose wrinkling slightly as I considered it. Casual sex friends could be fun—it was something I’d never experienced before, and the idea intrigued me. But the problem was, I didn’t know how I could be around him every day, sleep with him, and not develop feelings—or at least an acute addiction to him. I was already jonesing pretty bad.

  Plus, that would probably be way outside his comfort level. The way he’d pointed out I was the boss’s daughter suggested he had a problem with that, and maybe there was a problem with that. I had no idea what the policy was on employee relationships.

  I really was bad at my job.

  Exhaling, I dropped my phone back into my purse, my eyes darting to the meeting room door. I wondered how Alaric was making out or if I should go in and ask him if he needed any help. He was one welder I wouldn’t mind helping line by line.

  Thinking the better of it, I shook my head and grabbed my computer mouse, moving it to wake up the monitor.

  Alaric

  I stared at the endless stack of papers in front of me unable to concentrate on the black and white words on the pages.

  This was the last place I’d expected to ever run into Gwen again. It was a small town—I realized that—but I figured we’d cross paths at the grocery store or the gas station, not at my new job.

  And she was the boss’ daughter, too.

  She was responsible for filing employee paperwork, and it was only a matter of time before she learned more about me than I’d ever intended her to know.

  But I needed this job. Full-time hours, benefits—both drug and dental, and life insurance. The pay was thirty-two dollars an hour, too.

  I’d be one of the head welders, as I knew how to do both TIG and MIG welding, and I had more experience than any of the other applicants. It was still a step back from owning my own shop, but it stung less than the other job offers, and travel wouldn’t cut into my time with Sawyer.

  This job was perfect, but if I took it, it meant I’d be putting myself in Gwen’s proximity every day. It was hard to look at her and not picture the expression on her face as she came on my cock.

  But it was only supposed to be one night, and now, I’d have to face her every day and not remember how she tasted.

  It made me want her again. Especially when she’d been in this tiny little room with me. Four walls, her pencil skirt and white blouse, her dark hair twisted in a bun. Those glasses, her painted lips, her rapid breaths and wide gray eyes.

  It was a dangerous fantasy I hadn’t known I even wanted until the moment her perfume coiled around my senses. The scent of her alone made keeping my distance a challenge, but I was used to fighting my basic instincts, and I’d managed to resist. Barely.

  I exhaled, running my hand over my beard. Picking up the pen, I started filling out the forms, my need to secure employment greater than my need to avoid complication. There were child support payments and bills to consider. And maybe down the line, a lawyer to try and get more time with my daughter if Cheryl didn’t come around on her own.

  Besides, Gwen worked in the office. The chances of running into her were slim.

  Within half an hour, I had the paperwork completed. I stood, collecting the pile and leaving the meeting room.

  Gwen sat at her desk, typing on the keyboard. She glanced up when the door opened and drew in her bottom lip, dropping her gaze as I approached like she was ashamed to look me in the eyes.

  “All finished?” she asked, her voice an octave higher than its usual lilt.

  I nodded, and she took the stack from me, placing it in the folder on her desk. She kept her eyes downcast, and that was a crime. I didn’t want her to hide from me or for things to be awkward.

  “Gwen,” I said, my voice commanding her attention. She lifted her chin, her eyes locking with mine. I choked on my words. I didn’t know what to say to make the situation less than…what it was.

  “It’s okay,” she said, giving me a small smile. She tapped the side of her nose just above the sterling hoop and winked. “Let’s just forget about Friday night and start over.”

  “Sounds good,” I responded, the words feeling wrong.

  “Enjoy your first day,” she said, her smile a little pinched like she was just as eager to escape the discomfort as I was.

  “Thanks,” I said, nodding at her. I went to my truck to get my welding helmet, gloves, and toolbox. When I returned to the office, my new boss was waiting for me.

  “Gwen says you’re done with the paperwork.” Russell Williams grinned. “Ready to start welding?”

  “Absolutely,” I said, smiling and doin
g my best to ignore the heavy knowledge that my boss was Gwen’s father. He’d likely fire my ass if he knew what I’d done to her over the weekend.

  I followed Russell down the hall to the metal door that opened into the large shop.

  “Since you’re an ironworker, I won’t waste your time or mine having you paint the first week. I’m going to throw you straight into it. Cut, assemble, and weld the handrails. You’ll find the blueprints are already at your station,” Russell said after giving me a quick tour and introducing me to the other welders working in the shop.

  Once he left me to it, I got to work, losing myself in the task.

  At the end of the day, I had all my pieces cut and laid out. More than half the rails were already tacked together. Russell looked on, inspecting my welds, his brow rising. “Great job, son. Welcome to the team,” he said, shaking my hand.

  Satisfied that I’d managed to impress the boss on my first day, I grabbed my gear and headed out through the metal door at the side of the shop. My head turned as I passed the two glass doors that led to the office.

  I could see Gwen through the panes, standing at her desk, looking at something on her computer screen. She glanced up when I walked by, and our eyes locked.

  She smiled tentatively, and I smiled back. I didn’t want her thinking I was pissed at her—I wasn’t. A little thrown, maybe, but it wasn’t her fault. Neither one of us had really talked about what we did for a living.

  That was the problem with small town hookups. I should have known better. But Gwen had given me a pass, and I was going to have to put that night behind me.

  I tossed my gear in the bed of my truck and climbed behind the steering wheel, closing the door. The engine rumbled to life as the glass doors to the office opened, and Gwen stepped outside. She locked it behind her, adjusted her purse strap on her shoulder, and turned, walking to a red Mazda, pausing to open the door. She looked up, catching me watching her, and gave me a coy smile before climbing into her vehicle.

  Shaking my head, I backed from my spot and headed home, driving up 28 with the windows down. I pulled into my gravel driveway, parking in front of the double-vehicle garage.

  I sat in the silence of the cab for a few moments, looking at the house. I’d bought it because I could picture myself living there with my daughter. The house was perfect for us. It was a restored and renovated five-bedroom, two bath farmhouse that sat on twenty-six acres of land.

  The previous owners had kept the traditional features and added modern amenities. They’d put a lot of work into the house to sell it, decorating it in warm contemporary tones, which wasn’t my first pick, but Sawyer loved it. I’d adjusted comfortably enough to it.

  It was bigger than I’d planned on purchasing, but the price was right. I could weld in my garage, and with a functional barn to the north of the house, I could get some farm animals for Sawyer.

  There was plenty of space for her, too. But when my daughter wasn’t around, the house was way too big. The silence echoed, and it made me feel displaced. I’d spent a lot of my time in the garage, tinkering on projects to keep busy.

  Four more days, I told myself, moving out of the cab. I grabbed my work gear, bringing it into the garage and setting it down on my workbench. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I checked for messages. I’d missed a call from my mother, and guilt churned in my stomach.

  I needed to decompress before I faced that particular storm. Shoving my phone into my back pocket, I left the garage and walked into the house. The connecting door opened to a small room off the foyer with a sink, counter, storage, and rods to hang coats.

  On the other side of the foyer was the great room. My last house hadn’t had quite so many rooms, and I was at a loss for what to do with it. The entire back wall was brick, with a brick enclave for firewood.

  A hallway led from the great room to the eat-in kitchen. It was a little clinical for me, with its shaker cabinets, white quartz counter, and classic subway tile backsplash, but I could always change that.

  The dining room on the west side of the house had a huge bay window. Between the dining room and the mudroom was an old wood-stove, which helped heat the main floor during the winter months.

  One of the five bedrooms backed off the dining room. It was the smallest of the bedrooms, and it was currently filled with boxes and other random things I hadn’t gotten a chance to unpack.

  The living room sat off to the left of the kitchen. At the back of the house were the laundry room and mudroom, with a door leading to the back porch. Directly across from the mudroom was the wooden staircase that led to the second floor.

  Moving through the kitchen, I emptied my pockets, setting the contents on the counter as I walked into the laundry room. I tugged my work clothes off and tossed them into the stackable washing machine before jogging upstairs to the bathroom.

  Turning the taps on, I let the water heat while I stripped out of my boxers. I stepped under the stream, letting the hot water pound against my aching muscles, and allowed my thoughts to drift to the day I’d had. It was satisfying to get back to welding in an actual shop. The smell of metal, the heat of the welding gun—it allowed me an escape, a distraction.

  Welding had been my first love. My old man was an ironworker who had opened his own shop when I was five. I spent a lot of time there with him, wearing one of his old helmets and listening while he talked about what he was doing.

  I knew how to weld better than most of my instructors had in college, and when I graduated with the licences and tickets, I’d gone to work at my dad’s shop. He made me a co-owner—I was the son of Petersen and Son. When Dad died of a heart attack a few years back, he’d left the entire business to me.

  The last thing I wanted to do was sell my father’s legacy, but Cheryl had left me no choice. I needed to be closer to Sawyer, and it was the only way I could be near my daughter.

  Mom understood—she said it was the exact same thing that my father would have done had he been in my shoes. But I still felt guilty every single time I talked to her. Guilty for selling what he worked so hard to build, guilty for moving three hours away from her, leaving her alone in Ottawa. She had lived there all her life, and she had plenty of friends, but still.

  Now both Sawyer and I were gone.

  I exhaled deeply, turning to face the tile wall. Running my hands through my wet hair, I lathered the shampoo, washing away the metal, grime, and regret.

  Once I’d finished showering, I turned off the water and reached for the towel on the rack, my eyes going to the neat little row of my daughter’s bath things.

  I sighed, pushing open the curtain and stepping onto the mat. Tucking the towel around my waist, I walked down the hall, avoiding looking in Sawyer’s bedroom. I knew the bed would be made, her stuffed animals arranged carefully. Her bed, empty.

  I constantly thought about begging Cheryl for more time, but I knew my ex-girlfriend, and she wouldn’t give in easily to my request.

  The courts had awarded Cheryl with full-custody since she’d always been a stay-at-home parent while I worked. I got visitation rights, and if I wanted more time, I’d have to rely on the goodness of Cheryl’s heart—which had hardened to me years ago—or go the lawyer route.

  Cheryl didn’t want me around when it wasn’t my days to have Sawyer, and she made that perfectly clear all the time. She’d conveniently forget to tell me about school plays or dance recitals, and she didn’t want me sitting in student-teacher meetings. I think that was why she’d put the distance between us and was so pissed that I’d sold everything to move twenty-five minutes away.

  Jogging down the stairs, I stopped in the mudroom to grab my phone, bringing it into the kitchen and plugging it in to charge. I heated up some of the leftover steak and potatoes from the night before and ate standing up, leaning against the counter and looking out the dining room window, my thoughts drifting to my daughter.

  I finished eating and cleaned up the minuscule mess before taking out the trash. I opened the g
arage doors and flicked on the light. Standing in the driveway, I stared at my bike, my hands twitching at my sides. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on breathing, trying to squelch the desire to hop on it and go for a ride. The last time I’d taken it had been Friday night to the Watering Hole…and to Gwen’s apartment.

  Thoughts of her assaulted my conscious mind, and I allowed myself to indulge in the memory of her body pressed against mine. All of Saturday and Sunday, I thought about running into her a hundred times, about going back for more, breaking my own most crucial rule.

  Seeing her in the office, finding out who her father was—it hadn’t doused the desire the way it should have.

  I entertained the thought of a different morning than the one we’d had, one where I was fucking her in that meeting room, bending her over the table and taking her from behind.

  Knowing that if I hopped on the bike, I’d end up somewhere I had no business being, I walked to my workbench. I pulled my hair back from my face and picked up my welding mask, all the while thinking about her.

  She could have provided a great distraction, and maybe if she wasn’t the daughter of my new boss, I could have seen if fucking casually was something she’d be into. But this was a recipe for disaster, and I had enough of that in my life already.

  Bringing up a playlist on my phone, I plugged it into the speakers and hit play, getting to work on the metal fire pit I was building for the backyard. It was a project to occupy my time while I waited for the weekends with Sawyer.

  Half an hour into my project, I caught a movement in the corner of my eye and nearly jumped out of my skin when a large black shape that looked strikingly like a bear cub wandered into my garage. Realizing that it was a dog, I relaxed and set my welding gun down, powering off my machine.

  “Are you lost, bud?” The dog’s tail wagged tentatively as it ambled over. Its coat was matted with mud and burrs, and its brown eyes looked up at me pleadingly, begging me to save it.

 

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