by Jiffy Kate
“Sure,” he sighs in agreement, but I can tell he’s annoyed at the request. My instinct is to bristle at his reaction and tell him to forget it, but I don’t.
We walk down the hall toward the office and both enter, taking our normal seats. Deacon grabs one of the beers I brought him and pops the top, leaning back in his chair.
“What’s up?”
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry for Alex showing up at Christmas,” I tell him, not wasting any more time as I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. “I’m sorry I ruined the day for everyone. It was never my intention.”
“I can’t believe you invited her,” he says with disgust, his face screwing up like the beer he’s drinking has gone bad. “What were you thinkin’? I don’t know how you work with her, but invitin’’ her to family Christmas?” He shakes his head and places his can down on the desk, leaning toward me. “There’s nothin’ goin’ on between the two of you, is there?”
“What? No! You know there’s not. Why would you even ask that?” He’s mentioned it before and I shut him down then. The fact that he’s digging up old bones and trying to make this more than it is pisses me off, but I work hard to maintain my cool.
I came here to apologize. Reaching across the desk and punching him wouldn’t help the situation.
He lets out a deep sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, just like dad.
“I know you’re not,” he admits. “That was a low blow. Sorry.”
“Apology accepted.”
“We’re kind of at an impasse with this, huh?” he asks, tenting his fingers under his chin. When did Deacon become a spitting image of our father?
“Pretty much.” I lean back in my chair, wondering where we go from here. “You hate Alex. So do I, on most days,” I admit. “But I’m in this thing and I’m not giving up, especially this late in the game.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” he says, looking me in the eye. “Landrys don’t quit.”
I nod my head in agreement. “But I also hate how things are between us. I hate that this place was goin’ to shit today and you didn’t call me. We’re supposed to be partners.”
“Well, you’ve been so busy with Alex and New Orleans. I didn’t want to bother you with it.”
“We’re going to have to figure something out.”
“I know,” he says. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about a lot of things, but there’s never a good time and . . . well, we’ve been ignorin’ each other like school girls who’re sharin’ a boyfriend.” He shrugs, pausing for a second before continuing. “The insurance settlement for Pockets will be deposited next week. I want to start a rebuild.”
A couple of months ago, I wasn’t sure that’s what I wanted. I didn’t know if I wanted to rebuild Pockets. Cutting our loses and using the spare money for something else—a new venture—was a bit more appealing—grass being greener on the other side and all that.
But now, now I want it. I’m craving the way things were. I want to get back to what matters. I want Pockets back. I want my partnership with Deacon back. I want to fix things with Dani. I want to come through the fire and be stronger for it.
“When do we start?” I ask.
Deacon’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He wasn’t expecting that.
“I don’t know. We’ll have to line up some contractors, but I’d like to stick with the old buildin’ plans, if that’s alright with you. I don’t see any sense changin’ it. I thought it was perfect the way it was.”
“I agree.”
He nods, but he doesn’t say anything. His expression is leary—guarded.
It’s gonna take us a while to get back to normal, but this is a good start.
“We’ll discuss it later. I gotta get home. Cami has a doctor’s appointment.”
“Yeah, I need to go, too. I’m makin’ dinner for Dani.”
“Does she know?” he asks, like he knows something I don’t.
“No, I’m surprising her.”
“Well, hope that goes well.” Giving me a hard slap on the back, he walks out of the office and leaves me wondering what he knows that I don’t.
Without wasting any more time, I head out to my truck. As I’m sliding into the driver’s seat, I pull my phone out of the console and see I have a missed call from Dani.
Hitting redial, I wait for her to pick up. I’m only a few minutes from the apartment, but I want to make sure she doesn’t need anything on my way over. My being here was going to be a surprise, but maybe it’s better I let her know.
“Hello.” Her voice is breathy, like she’s been walking up stairs or running laps.
“Hello, beautiful,” I reply, missing her even more now that she’s on the phone. Pressing my foot harder on the gas, I speed down the road toward home.
Home.
Wherever Dani is, that’s home, whether it’s an apartment in Baton Rouge, a cottage in French Settlement, or a hut in Timbuktu.
“Hey, I . . . uh . . .” she hesitates and I hear shuffling on the other end of the phone.
“What are you doing?” I ask, turning the corner and coming up on the apartment. Maybe I’ll just surprise her after all.
“I’m folding clothes. Listen, I need to talk to you about something.”
I park the truck and hop out, grabbing the sack of groceries.
“I’m all ears,” I tell her, feeling a sense of relief that things seem to be getting back to a good place. Hopefully, after tonight, everything will be better and we can get past this and get back to the good stuff. Like falling asleep with her beside me and waking up wrapped around her. I need her more than she knows. Shit, I need her more than I even know. The week or so I’ve been staying at the cottage has definitely driven that fact home for me.
I knock on the door.
“Well.” She pauses. “Just a sec. Someone’s at the door.”
I smile, waiting for her because I want to see her face. I love when she’s surprised. Her green eyes light up and I love the way her lips part with a small smile. Right now, I need to kiss those lips so, she better hurry.
“Hold on,” she yells at the door—at me—as I knock again, growing impatient.
When the door opens, her hair is just how I like it—messy and twisted up in a bun on top of her head. There’s a strand coming loose and I instinctively reach out and tuck it behind her ear.
“Hey,” she says, confused, but still surprised, just as I’d hoped.
“Hey,” I reply, reaching for her waist and pulling her to me. She’s in jeans and a t-shirt that’s cut low. It’s sexy as hell and begging to be in a pile on the floor. Bending down, I capture her lips in mine and she leans into the kiss, her hands coming up and gripping the front of my shirt.
We need this.
It’s been too long.
It’s not good for us to be apart, because we’re so much better together.
“What did you need to tell me?” I ask in a low, whispered tone, hoping she’s going to say that she needs me in bed, naked. Stat.
“Did you buy groceries?” she asks, noticing the bag still in my arm.
“I did. I’m makin’ you your favorite.”
“Crawfish etouffee?” she asks, her eyes widening.
“Yes, ma’am.” I step around her and place the bag on the large island in the kitchen. This island is one of the reasons Deacon and I originally got this place. We loved the open floor plan and the industrial feel. It was the perfect bachelor pad for many years. But now, it’s perfect for Dani . . . For us.
She’s put her touch on things, has prints laying on all flat surfaces. There’s a great photo of the family she took back when she was doing the article on the plantation. But my favorite is the one of us that she had Cami take. Dani edited it into black and white. With the color taken away, the most important parts are what you see—her, me, the way we look at each other.
“Shit,” Dani groans as she begins to pace the space on the other side of the island.
“What�
��s wrong?” I ask, looking around to see if there’s something I missed.
I think about the way Deacon reacted when I told him I was coming over here to surprise her with dinner and I wonder if there really is something important I don’t know.
“This was going to be a lot easier over the phone.” She stops and faces me. “I didn’t realize just how much I’ve been missing you until I opened that door.” I watch her swallow as she tries to figure out what to say or maybe how to say it.
“What happened to absence makes the heart grow fonder?” I ask, teasing—trying to relieve some of the heaviness that’s suddenly settled over the space around us.
Dani gives me a smirk and shakes her head. “It’s not that. It’s just that I really have missed you, but I thought I’d be able to do this . . . but now that you’re here, I don’t know if I can . . . but I want to, kinda have to, because I’ve already committed myself to it.”
“What?” I ask, frustration building as she skirts around whatever it is she needs to tell me.
“I thought you’d be busy with the restaurant,” she continues. “I didn’t expect you to show up here.”
“I made time to come here. I want us to talk and I want to make things right between us. I hate the distance. I don’t like spending every night without you. I know you said you needed some space, and I gave you that. But it’s time to figure this out.”
“I agree,” she admits. “With all of it. I hate the space. I don’t even know why I asked for it. I think I just felt hurt that you’d invite Alex into family time—our time—especially on such an important day. She gets enough of your time.”
Dani huffs, placing here hands on her hips and hanging her head. “God, I’m getting ready to sound like a selfish bitch, but here goes nothing.” Looking back up, she levels me with that fire in her eyes I love so much. “I think I’ve been jealous of the restaurant and Alex.”
I go to stop her, but she holds a hand up. “Let me finish.”
“I know it sounds crazy,” she continues. “But after Graham, and I don’t mean to bring him up again, but it’s the only way I can explain what’s been going on inside my head.” She paces a few steps before stopping and bracing her arms on the counter. “I have these annoying insecurities that pop up, even when I don’t want them to. I knew you’d be busy, but I didn’t know how busy, and I didn’t know how much I’d miss you or how much it would affect our relationship. Or how jealous I would feel about the time you spend with Alex and the restaurant. But I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. That’s what I want to apologize for,” I tell her, pleading, as I slap my hand on my chest, right where it hurts when I see her hurting. “I’m sorry for all of it. I’m sorry for letting the restaurant take precedence. I never meant for that to happen. You’re more important than all of it. Don’t ever doubt that. And I’m sorry for Alex showing up and ruining everything. I don’t just mean Christmas. I mean period. If I could go back, I’d figure out a way to do this restaurant without her.”
“I know.” She seems relieved, but still sad. “I know all of that. I think I was just as pissed off at myself for letting my stupid insecurities takeover than I was at you for inviting Alex to Christmas. I know you were just being nice. Your mom told me. You’re a good person, Micah. I know that and I love you for it, and in spite of it.”
“So, let’s have sex and then I’ll make you dinner.” I laugh, trying to ease the tension, and so does she, but then her smile turns serious again.
“I wish that could happen. But I accepted a last-minute job from Piper this morning. I’m supposed to be in Birmingham tonight for an emergency meeting.”
“What?” The words coming out of her mouth are plain as day, but the meaning behind them is getting muddled. I stopped processing them when she said she took a job for Piper. In Birmingham.
“Piper called this morning. She had a photographer cancel on her last minute, so I’m taking the job.”
“Did Deacon know about this?” I ask.
“Uh, yeah. I needed a ride to pick up my rental car. He took me over there this morning. I tried to get a flight, but there weren’t any available this last minute. Besides, it’s only a five-hour drive.”
It’s my turn to be hurt because my girlfriend asked my brother for a ride instead of calling me. And my brother knew about something as important as Dani taking a job in Birmingham before I did.
“Did you not think to ask me about this first?” My voice is raised and I’m fighting to keep my emotions in check, but it’s getting harder by the second. Just as I thought things were getting back on track, the rug gets ripped out from under me.
“Last time I checked, I don’t need your permission,” Dani seethes. “Besides, it’s only for a week. You’ll be busy putting the finishing touches on the restaurant and I’ll be back by opening night.”
A week. I survived one. I guess I can survive another. But it’s another week of missing her and another week of being apart. “This is just bad timin’,” I say, without thinking.
“Let’s not start comparing bad timing,” Dani says, walking to the bedroom and coming back out with her suitcase trailing behind her. “I didn’t really get a say when you jumped right into a new business venture shortly after I moved here.”
“You told me to go for it.” My words come out a little louder than I planned and Dani immediately balks at my tone, whipping her head around with fire blazing in her eyes.
“What else was I supposed to say?” Dani yells. “You were like a kid with a shiny new toy. I wasn’t going to be the one to crush your dreams or tell you what to do. How could I have told you no?”
We have a standoff across the island for what seems like an hour, but I’m sure it’s merely minutes.
“I know you had other plans for this evening,” she says with reluctance, breaking the silence. “And I know you’re disappointed, but I have to go.”
“I guess I’ll see you in a week.” I huff, like a petulant child who didn’t get what they want, but that’s exactly how I feel—frustrated beyond belief, a little hurt, and disappointed. This didn’t go at all like I planned.
“I’m sorry,” Dani sighs. Walking around the counter, she reaches up and kisses me. I don’t return it, but I still love the feel of her lips on mine.
When she turns to walk away, I realize I can’t let her leave like that. So, I grab her and kiss her, like my life depends on it, because it does. I need her to know how much I love her, even though I’m pissed, I love her more than anything in this world.
After she walks out the door, I go to the window, still in disbelief things went down the way they did. I should either be cooking for Dani or getting naked for Dani, but instead, I’m standing at the window, watching her drive off.
In a bright red mustang.
It’s just like her—hot, fiery, and strong. Now, if she’d just turn that thing around and come back to me, everything would be fine.
DANI HAS BEEN GONE FOR half an hour and I’ve pretty much been standing at this window the entire time. Maybe I thought she’d change her mind and I’d see that red mustang pull back up at the curb. But she didn’t and now it’s just me and this empty apartment.
I could head out and go to Grinders or drive to New Orleans and put myself to work, but I don’t want to. I had my heart set on Dani and now I just want to be here, as close to her as possible. That might make me sound weak, but I don’t care. I am weak when it comes to her. I don’t think she knows exactly how much I love her.
This past week has been good for me in a way. It’s allowed me to realize how deep my feelings for Dani run and how sure I am of wanting to spend the rest of my life with her. Now, if only I can get the chance to prove that to her, I’d be a happy man.
But for now, that crawfish etouffee I’d planned on making for Dani is calling my name. Going into the kitchen, I start unloading the sack of groceries and laying everything on the counter.
As I’m getting a pot out for the rice, a viv
id, random memory of Dani and I fooling around in the kitchen hits me out of nowhere. I can see her so clearly—her head tilted back laughing, her slender neck on display, the way her hair hangs down her back.
The raw emotions coursing through my body nearly bring me to my knees. I set the pot down on the counter and brace my arms on the edge, breathing deeply to regain control.
What if Dani loves it in Birmingham?
What if Piper were to offer her a permanent job there?
Would she take it?
Would she leave me?
So many questions and fears flood my mind, things I haven’t allowed myself to think until now. But I can’t make them stop. All of this relationship stuff is still new to me. I’ve never given my heart over so completely to someone before. What happens if the feelings I’m experiencing are one-sided.
Without thinking, I pull out my phone and hit redial on Dani’s number. The panic setting in can only be relieved one way. I need to hear her voice. I need to hear her tell me it’s going to be okay, or I need her to tell me it’s not. Regardless, I have to hear it from her and it can’t wait a week.
After the third ring, she picks up.
“Hello.” I can tell she has me on speaker phone due to the slight roar of the engine, mixed with the noise of the road in the background.
“Hey,” I reply, feeling a slight decrease in the tightness of my chest with just that one word.
“What’s wrong?” There’s an edge of concern in her voice and I love that even over the phone she knows me so well.
“Are we okay? I mean, I know we’ve been arguing a lot and we haven’t seen each other much . . . and now you’ve left for Birmingham.” I pause, trying to put the right words together to convey what I need to say. “I don’t want you to leave. Ever. I mean, I don’t know how this relationship stuff goes, but . . .”