by Jiffy Kate
“Right.” She goes all business, opening up an oversized bag and pulling out a file. “These are what I have.”
Mr. Arnold steps over and takes the stack of papers from her, grunting his appreciation.
“I faxed these over yesterday,” Alex says, walking over to the newly installed bar and tossing her bag on top.
“These are the ones we already have,” Mr. Arnold says, thrusting them back at her. “I need the ones for gas and water.” It seems as though he’s lost his patience with my business partner and I don’t blame him one bit.
Her blue eyes go wide at his abruptness and her mouth opens wide. “Well, those were the ones my assistant gave me.” Her tone is unapologetic and condescending.
Her assistant?
“Alex,” I start, low and calm, but inside I’m feeling anything but. “You had one job. Secure the permits. You assured me that wouldn’t be a problem. They were supposed to be ready by the beginning of the week and it’s now Wednesday. And I’ve had to make an extra trip here, when I should be attending to business back home.” My voice raises as I continue. “If we don’t have these permits, work doesn’t get done. Mr. Arnold here has a lot of other jobs to attend to. His time is valuable.”
I feel like I’m speaking to a child, but I’m at my wits end today. Tired and pissed off—it’s never a good combination.
“Well, my time is valuable too, and it’s taken me an entire week to be your beck and call girl.” Alex’s cool demeanor is slipping and she stomps a few steps across the wooden floor, crossing her arms over her chest like a petulant child.
“My beck and call girl?” I seethe. Fuck professional. “This is our business. Last time I checked your name is on the dotted line, just like mine. So, you have to pull your weight around here. If you don’t, this will never work. We might as well close up shop. Turn out the fucking lights, the party’s over.” I throw my hands in the air for dramatic effect and her eyes go wide. I know she’s not used to being spoken to like this, but I’m tired of the diva behavior and I’m tired of busting my balls over something that’s supposed to be a partnership. “I can’t do your job and mine too. I still have a restaurant to run in Baton Rouge. This is never gonna work.”
Fuck, I miss Deacon.
Shit like this is never an issue with us. We both put everything we’ve got into whatever we do. One hundred percent. Never anything less. And that thought pisses me off even more, because I don’t want to think about the shit storm that is me and Deacon right now.
My plate is fucking full.
“I’m sorry,” Alex says, uncrossing her arms and letting her shoulders drop. “I’ll get the permits tomorrow. Will tomorrow work for you, Mr. Arnold?” The professional Alex is back and I don’t know why or what her agenda is, but I’m so tired of her bullshit.
“Tomorrow,” Mr. Arnold grunts, looking at Alex and then at me, raising his eyebrows as if to say this one’s a doozy.
Don’t I fucking know.
Right now, I hear Deacon’s voice in the back of my mind saying I told you so and I want to punch him in his fucking face.
I walk over to the bar and look over the plans while I let my blood cool. I feel Alex walk up beside me, but I don’t look at her. I can’t. I’ll go off on her again if I do.
“I really am sorry,” she says, her hand landing on my shoulder and I move until I’m out of her reach. “I’ll do better.”
I finally look up at her and she seems sincere, but it doesn’t excuse her lack of motivation and responsibility.
“You gotta do your part.” Leaning against the bar, I look out at the open floor plan and I can see in my mind what this place can be. I want it. I want my dream, what’s in my head. But I know I can’t do it alone. Maybe if I could clone myself, but since that’s not an option, I need Alex. “You want this, right?”
“Yes,” she says, nodding her head. “I want it.”
“Well, then fucking act like it. This isn’t one of daddy’s deals that he’ll pick up the slack on. It’s your name on the fucking contract. Do what you say you’re going to do and do it on time.” I know my words are a bit harsh, but maybe what she needs is some tough love to light a fire under her ass. I doubt she’s had much of that in her life.
“Okay.” The pout and soft tone of her voice tell me her feelings are hurt, but I don’t have time for all that girl bullshit right now.
“And get the damn permits. Tomorrow.”
“I will.”
I let out a long sigh and rub my hands down my face.
“You look tired.” She sighs, walking closer.
“I am, but since I’m here, we might as well go over the order forms for the tables and chairs.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, we need to stay on schedule.”
“You know,” she says, her voice dropping an octave as she leans over the bar. “You can always stay at my place. I have an apartment not far from here.”
“No.” The harsh laugh that follows my response makes her pause. Not just no, but hell no.
“Well, it’d be better than driving home like this,” she says, pointing to my tired face. “It’s dangerous, you know. Driving sleepy is almost as bad as driving drunk. It’s statistical.”
I quirk a smile at her effort, but the answer is still no. “Come on, let’s go over this list so I can go home before I become a statistic.”
By the time Alex and I hash out the exact tables and chairs we want to order—quantity, size, and price—the sun has already set and I’m walking back to my truck in the dark, feeling every bit of exhaustion hit me like a tidal wave.
After I make it out of downtown and back onto the main highway, I exit off and stop into a gas station for a fill up and a large cup of coffee. Yawning, I stretch my arms above my head and walk around my truck a few times, trying to wake myself up.
New Orleans doesn’t seem that far from Baton Rouge until you drive it every other day and meet yourself coming and going. Damn, I just need my bed and at least six hours of sleep.
As the pump clicks off, signaling the tank is full, I glance at my watch and see it’s already after ten. I don’t know how it got so late. And I haven’t talked to Dani since this morning.
With my tank full of gas and my cup full of coffee, I pull back out onto I-10. The traffic is still a little thick, even this late in the evening, because this is Nola and there’s always something going on here.
It’s when I make it to the quieter, less congested portion of the highway that I start to feel my eyes closing on their own accord. Doing all the tricks of the trade—rubbing my eyes, rolling down the window, and turning the radio up to an ear-splitting volume—I will myself to stay the fuck awake.
Alex’s words from earlier about sleepy driving and being a statistic floats back into my foggy brain and I have to laugh, shaking my head. Fuck if I’m going to prove her right.
Hands at ten and two and my chest practically up on the steering wheel, I wide-eye it another ten miles down the road. Maybe if I’d got more than two hours of sleep last night this wouldn’t be a problem. But I ended up at Grinders placing all of the end-of-the-month orders to get as far ahead as I possibly could. I didn’t expect to be driving to Nola today. I planned on being home in time to cook dinner for my girl.
The next thing I know, my tires hit the grid on the side of the road and I swerve, nearly losing control of my truck.
“Fuck.”
My heart is pounding out of my chest. I swear I was awake, mouthing the words of the song on the radio one minute, and practically flipping my truck in the ditch the next. Thank God there weren’t any cars driving too close to me.
Letting my heart settle back into my chest, I blindly grab for my phone on the center console and hit the speed dial for Dani.
“Hey, baby,” she says, picking up on the second ring. Her voice sounds sleepy and sexy and the best thing I’ve heard all day. “You on your way home?”
“Yeah,” I manage to get out without sou
nding too worked up.
“Everything okay?”
Maybe I didn’t manage to hide my panic or maybe Dani is so good at reading me, I can’t hide anything from her, even if I want to.
“Just tired and missin’ you.”
“How much further until you’re home?”
“About thirty minutes. Think you can talk to me until I get there?”
I hear the rustling of sheets and Dani clears her throat. “Of course.” Without me saying another word, she says, “Tell me about your day.”
“MICAH!” DANI SNAPS HER FINGERS in front of my face, forcing my attention on her and off the kitchen counter I’d been staring at. “Are you listening to me?”
“What?” I ask, turning to look at her.
A look of disappointment flashes across Dani’s beautiful face and I want to kick myself in the nuts for hurting her. I have a lot on my plate today and I’m not even sure I’ll be able to get everything done, but I need to with Thanksgiving later this week. And that’s not an excuse to ignore her.
The guilt that’s been slowly creeping in grows. I even had to call my mama again yesterday and tell her we wouldn’t be at Sunday dinner. This shit won’t fly for long, but I’m hoping everybody can hang in there just a little longer.
“Oh, baby, I’m sorry,” I groan, running a hand down my face. “I was zoned out, thinking about my schedule today. What were you saying?”
“Here, maybe this will help wake you up.” She slides a mug in front of me and my mouth waters instantly. The aroma of my favorite dark roast mixed with a shot of chicory is exactly what I need right now. The only way it could be improved would be to inject it straight into my veins, but drinking from a cup will have to do for now.
Dani waits for me to take my first sip, watching as my face visibly relaxes and my mental cobwebs clear. Once she’s sure she has my undivided attention, she begins to speak again.
“I was just reminding you that I’ll be out of town on assignment most of the week so, if you have a lot to do in New Orleans, you should get a hotel. I worry about you driving back and forth so much, especially late at night when you’re so exhausted.”
She places her hand on top of mine and I raise it to my mouth and kiss it. Her skin is so soft and she smells like apple pie. So much so, I want to take her back to bed and devour her, but I know we don’t have time.
Stupid adulting.
“I know you worry and if today’s meetings run too long, I’ll stay at a hotel,” I promise her. “Alex has offered her couch to me a few times, but I—”
I don’t even get the rest of my sentence out before Dani whips her head around and gives me a death glare. Jaw jutted forward, lips pursed, and eyes narrowed . . . scary as hell.
“Micah Paul Landry, I swear—”
“I told her no, Dani. Every time she’s asked or brought it up, I’ve told her no, I promise.”
Dani sighs, relaxing her glare. “I hate being a bitchy girlfriend, and I know you’re a grown man who can do whatever he wants, but you know how I feel about her.”
I walk around the kitchen counter to where Dani is standing and I wrap my arms around her waist. “I know, Dani. You can trust me.”
“I do trust you. She’s the one I don’t trust.”
I tilt her head up with my finger under her chin and look into her eyes. “Don’t worry about Alex; I can handle her. You’re the one I love, the only woman I want to be with.” We kiss and what starts out gentle and sweet soon changes to needy and demanding. Dani’s hands find my belt and zipper and soon my pants are down around my ankles. I know I thought we didn’t have time to fool around this morning but I can tell Dani is needing some reassurance and I’ll take all the time in the world to give her what she needs. Truth be told, I need my girl. I need to feel her. I always need her.
“Hop up here, baby. Let me take care of you.” I help her on top of the kitchen island and reach under her skirt to pull her panties off. Dani has been wearing cute, little dresses more, now that she’s back in the south and it makes moments like these very quick and easy. The sooner I can get her undressed, the sooner I can taste her, and then I can take my time with her.
As soon as my mouth is on her, Dani’s body relaxes and she lays all the way down on the island, while keeping her hands in my hair. I taste her, licking her over and over, moaning against her sensitive skin. She cries out when I slide two fingers inside her and pump them in a steady rhythm, while my mouth continues to work its magic on her clit.
“Micah,” she gasps. “I want you inside me.”
“After I make you come with my mouth, I’m gonna fuck you good and hard, don’t worry.”
Her giggles turn to moans when I pick up the pace of my tongue and I feel her tightening around my fingers. I love going down on Dani. Like, I really fucking love it, but I can never decide what part I love the most: the feel of her walls spasming on my fingers, the taste of her all over my tongue, how she tugs and pulls my hair harder the closer she gets to the edge, or how she looks when she comes completely undone, letting her body move on its own accord while she screams my name. I feel like I have sexual ADD, not knowing where to focus my attention because it’s all so fucking good.
When Dani comes, she looks as if it’s the best orgasm she’s ever had. Every time, I swear.
I rub her thighs and watch her while her body settles back down. I could watch her all day long if she’d let me. It doesn’t even matter what she’s doing, I just love looking at her.
“Damn, Micah, that was perfect, but I really need to feel you now,” she groans.
I look down at my dick that’s hard as a rock. “Yeah, I think I’m ready.”
She laughs, following my gaze down to my cock. With a wicked smile, she jumps off the island and turns her back to me. The saucy minx looks over her shoulder and says, “Take me from behind.”
Ma’am, yes, ma’am.
Rolling up to the big house, a pang of guilt hits me right in my gut.
I haven’t been home since mine and Deacon’s fight. I’m sure my mama thinks I’ve been avoiding her, but the truth is I’ve been busy. The last three Sundays, I’ve split the day between New Orleans and Grinders.
Sure, I’ve been avoiding Deacon, but only because that’s how he wants it. He’s the one who suggested the stupid ass schedule we’ve been following. I haven’t seen him in almost three weeks, probably the longest I’ve ever gone without seeing his ugly face.
“Hey, sugar.” My mama’s standing on the front porch leaning against one of the large white posts, with her yellow apron blowing in the breeze.
“Hey, Mama.” I go around to the other side of the truck and grab the two huge turkeys out of the back. She called and asked me if I could pick them up for her. I know my mama. This was her way of getting me out here, but I’m okay with that. I’ve been meaning to come and just haven’t made the time. I hold them up, one in each hand.
She smiles her approval. I’m not sure if it’s at me being here or the big birds, or both. But her smile fades the closer I get to the porch. “You look tired.”
“I’m fine,” I tell her, not wanting her to worry about me. “Where you want these birds?”
“Kitchen sink,” she orders, standing back as I walk through the front door and straight to the kitchen.
“Dani’s still helpin’ with the pies, right?” she asks, taking a few things out of the fridge to make room for the turkeys.
“Yeah, as far as I know she’s comin’ out early tomorrow mornin’.”
“You’re makin’ time for her, right?” My mama leans against the counter beside me and crosses her arms. Her question makes me pause.
“What?”
“You’re makin’ time for Dani, not lettin’ this new restaurant run your life?” She sighs, glancing over at me. “I know how you get when you have a new restaurant to open. You eat, sleep, and drink that place.”
“Everything is fine, Mama.”
She stands firm in her spot, staring at
me for a few seconds, making me want to tuck tail and run. When Deke and I were kids, all my mama had to do was give us her look. We knew she meant business and didn’t want any part of that.
“Dani knows I need to make this new restaurant a priority. She’s okay with it.”
Mama lets out another deep sigh and shakes her head. “Of course, she is. But she still needs you. Don’t lose sight of what’s important. That’s all I’m sayin’.”
I know what she’s saying. I do. I know Dani is my priority and that’s different from every other time I’ve been down this road. When Deacon and I opened Grinders and Pockets, I didn’t have anybody else to worry about but myself. So, it was okay to work day and night. I’m not sure I know how to do what my mama’s telling me, but I smile anyway.
“I won’t, Mama.” I lean over and kiss her cheek and she squeezes my shoulders, kissing my cheek back.
“Need help with anything else while I’m here?” I ask as the front door opens and a loud voice booms through the foyer.
“Micah Paul Landry,” Tucker’s voice echoes off the walls. “Is French Settlement’s most non-eligible bachelor here?”
Stupid ass.
I shake my head and look over at my mama who’s smiling ear to ear. She loves it when Tucker’s home—all her kids under one roof, that’s what makes my mama happy.
“Kitchen,” I yell.
“There he is.” Tucker beams as he walks in, wrapping me in a manly hug, slapping me hard on my back. I return it, but quickly follow up with a punch to his arm to make sure things don’t get too sappy.
Tucker switches from me to my mama, giving her a little twirl as he kisses her cheek. “Mama Landry.”
“Tucker Benoit,” Mama, laughs. “‘Bout time you come home.”
“You know I wouldn’t miss Thanksgivin’.”
“I know you better not,” mama warns, picking up a tea towel and swatting him with it. “I’m gonna leave you boys to catch up. I’ll be out in the greenhouse if you need me. Tucker, make sure your daddy and Kay know to be here at one tomorrow for dinner.”