by J. Daniels
Knowing that was his way of saying yes, I clung to him.
Finally.
“Do me a favor?” he asked.
“Anything,” I rushed out.
God, I meant that too. I’d do anything for Sean. I wouldn’t even question it.
Sean leaned back to look at me. “Don’t stop talkin’,” he said. “I like hearin’ you, Shayla. I always did. I gotta keep hearin’ you.”
The air went out of my lungs.
Holy fuck. That might’ve been the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me. Lord knows, I was a talker. I knew I was. I also knew it annoyed a lot of people. They told me.
And now I knew it did not annoy Sean.
Hot damn.
I grinned at him, stepping closer and curling my hands around his ribs. “Would you like me to tell you specifically what all I found to be amazing about our sex? I could go on for hours.”
This was not an exaggeration.
His dick alone was deserving of mad props.
Sean bent and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Tell me whatever you want. Just do it while I make us some dinner. I’m fuckin’ starved.”
My brows shot up as he pulled away. “Dinner? Ooh, am I getting my chips?” I asked excitedly, bouncing on my toes.
Sean smiled over his shoulder as he headed for the kitchen.
Fuck. Yes.
I was getting my chips.
After cleaning up in the bathroom and setting our shoes against the wall so they weren’t in the middle of the floor anymore, I walked over to one of the bar stools at the counter overlooking the kitchen and sat down, watching Sean in his element.
He grabbed two skillets out of a cabinet—a cast-iron one and another that was much deeper than the skillets I had at my place—then he went to the refrigerator and pulled out potatoes, some meat wrapped in butcher’s paper, two sticks of butter, and some garlic. He poured oil into the deep skillet and got that heating up, along with the cast-iron, then he got to work on the potatoes.
And he did all this wearing nothing but those jeans.
It hit me then, while I was admiring Sean’s body, that he did not have any clue how I felt about the way he looked, and that bothered me.
“You’re really hot,” I said.
Sean paused his work on the potatoes and looked up at me. His mouth twitched.
“And sexy,” I continued. “I haven’t been this attracted to someone my entire life, I don’t think. I like everything about you.”
Sean stared at me, mouth no longer twitching, but there was an intensity in his eyes now I really liked seeing on him, enough that I opened my mouth to list each and every single quality about Sean’s appearance so I could keep seeing it, but then he set down the knife he was holding, stepped over to the sink so he was standing directly in front of me, and leaned forward while grabbing hold of my neck. He pulled me gently, meeting me halfway across the counter, and pressed his mouth firm against mine.
It was a short kiss, but damn, was it hot.
He pushed his tongue inside my mouth. He sucked on my lips. He growled like he wanted to fuck me.
Then Sean leaned away but kept his hand on my neck, our faces close. He stared into my eyes.
“Everything,” he said in that deep, gravelly voice. “I feel that too.”
Holy crap. Sean liked everything about me. Everything.
“Awesome,” I whispered.
He chuckled. “Even that—you bein’ funny is sexy,” he informed me, releasing my neck and moving back over to the cutting board.
“That’s good, since I’m hilarious at least five days a week,” I told him.
Sean picked up the knife, doing this grinning, then he got back to work while I traced my fingertips around my mouth, still feeling him there.
I watched him start on the chips.
I stared at Sean’s hand and his fingers curled under as he chopped at rapid speed. Perfectly uniform thin slices of potato toppled over onto the cutting board.
I’d bet the hair on my head each of those slices measured the exact same size.
Val had said Sean had always been a good cook, and I’d watched Sean plenty of times before do his thing at Whitecaps. I knew he had mad skill, but remembering those first couple days after he got hired, something didn’t make sense.
“Whitecaps wasn’t your first job as a cook, right?” I asked, chin resting on my hand as I studied him. “You’ve been a cook for a while?”
Sean kept his focus as he answered. “Working cook, no. I did shit on my own ’cause no one was around to do it for me. Had a handful of jobs before Nate gave me a break, but nothing I kept longer than a couple weeks. I fucked around a lot back then.”
“But you’ve had your skills for a while…”
Sean jerked his shoulder. “Guess so.”
“So how come you cut yourself so much when you first started at Whitecaps?”
He stayed silent for a moment, thinking as he prepared the next potato. “I don’t know. Nerves, I guess.”
“Why were you so nervous?”
“Needed the job,” he stated plainly, but his voice sounded tighter. “I was tryin’ to be someone for my girls. They deserved it. I couldn’t mess up again.”
My stomach instantly knotted up.
I sat up taller and watched Sean grab a large bowl out of a cabinet and dump the potato slices in.
“But…the girls at work, we all call you Stitch,” I said.
He smirked and began seasoning the potatoes.
I didn’t understand his reaction. He should’ve been angry about that.
“Why do you let us?” I asked. “We were poking a little fun, and you were scared you’d mess up and ruin your chances of seeing your girls again. My God, Sean. Why didn’t you tell us not to call you that? Why don’t you?”
I hated how thoughtless I’d been. I should’ve realized how nervous he was back then. I should’ve picked up on that.
For fuck’s sake, I stared at him enough. Why didn’t I see it?
“Nobody is calling you that again. I’ll make sure of it,” I promised.
After dinner, I was making some calls.
Sean shook up the potatoes so they were evenly coated, then he sat the bowl down and looked up at me. “You asked,” he said. “Anyone else, I might’ve said somethin’. It was you so I didn’t.”
I blinked at him.
“You didn’t mind it because it was me asking?”
He jerked his chin.
Whoa.
“Do you like it?”
“Don’t hate it,” he answered.
“If you don’t like it, Sean, we can stop…”
“Did I say I don’t like it?”
“No, but not hating it isn’t really liking something,” I argued. “I feel bad.”
He flattened his hands on the counter and leaned closer. “Don’t,” he ordered, holding my eyes and I swore, it was as if he was begging me not to say anything to anyone. “If I didn’t want them callin’ me that, I’d say somethin’. Same goes for anything else they do. I don’t mind it.”
I thought about how often the girls bothered Sean at work while he was cooking, how Tori called him sweetie sometimes, how Syd always smiled at him and tried getting Sean to engage. And last, I thought about all those hugs he’d received the other night, plus the kiss on the cheek, and how he didn’t do a damn thing to stop them, when he could’ve.
Sean didn’t mind any of that. And I thought maybe that was because he was getting attention in the form of kindness from a bunch of women who could give it good, when he’d gone most of his life without it. In a way, even the nickname was done with affection. There wasn’t any malice intended. Yes, we’d been teasing him a little, but it was all out of love. It was just another way of us welcoming Sean into our work family and letting him know he belonged there.
I changed my mind. I would not be making any calls later.
“Okay,” I told him, smiling and going back to resting my chin on my hand. �
�We’ll keep calling you Stitch. I won’t say anything. You may resume the important work you’re doing.”
He chuckled, then reached for the meat he’d set out. “You like steak?”
“Nope. I love it.”
Sean unwrapped the two thick cuts and seasoned them up good, then he seared them in the cast-iron with some butter and garlic.
“So, that guy you were talking to outside, who was he?”
“ Logan,” Sean answered, watching the steaks closely. “We go way back. I met him when I was sixteen. He used to own a Laundromat I stole clothes from. Caught me one day doin’ it and could’ve turned me in. He didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Probably felt sorry for me. I was living on the streets then.”
“You stole clothes from Laundromats?”
Sean jerked his chin, explaining, “Easier than taking them from a store. You gotta worry about those bullshit security tags.”
Huh. Well, that was one way to beat the system.
Sean caught up some of the butter-garlic mixture and spooned it over top of the steaks.
“And the two weeks comment?” I inquired.
“I got my trailer when I was eighteen, but I couldn’t afford to keep it anywhere. Rent is no fuckin’ joke. Logan let me keep it on his property and didn’t charge me. He’s got land. I just had to help him tend to it. That was the trade-off.”
I smiled.
I immediately liked Logan and set a mental reminder to send him an apology for my behavior ASAP. My stationery would work just fine for that.
“When I got locked up this last time, he kept my trailer there, which was a good fuckin’ thing too, since I didn’t have anywhere to go when I got out. But now he’s gotta sell his land ’cause he needs the money. I got two weeks to find a place for my trailer, and I don’t know where the fuck I’m gonna keep it. I don’t got enough room here. Plus, the fuckin’ HOA wouldn’t let me keep it in my yard. I can’t afford rent. Not with payin’ on the house.” Sean shook his head and cursed. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do.”
“Can’t you just sell it?”
“Fuck, no. I need that trailer.”
“Why?”
“It’s my backup. I need a backup.”
“For what?”
“For when I fuck up.”
I stared at Sean. “But…you’re not going to fuck up,” I told him.
He laughed, but it wasn’t a happy one. “I will. I fuck up everything eventually.”
Pain circled my heart. How could he think that?
“Sean.” I waited for him to look up at me before I continued. “You will not fuck up,” I insisted. “Those girls are too important to you. And you’ve worked so hard to get them back…you won’t mess this up. I know you won’t.”
Sean was watching me with such intent, I momentarily worried about the steaks.
“Sell the trailer. You don’t need it anymore,” I said, and then with emphasis, I added, “You got this.”
I was referring to his beautiful life with his girls, and also, the steaks.
I didn’t know why I’d been so worried. He could probably cook with his eyes closed.
Sean took in a deep breath before resuming his concentration. He didn’t argue with me about it anymore. I took that as a good sign—he was hearing me. He’d at least consider selling the trailer.
When the steaks were nearly finished, Sean dropped the potato slices into the oil and fried them up. Within ten minutes or so, I was taste testing one and giving my approval.
“Holy crap, that’s good,” I mumbled around my bite, moaning and sucking seasoning off my fingertips. “I could eat my weight in these.”
Sean smiled and handed me another, which I gobbled up.
After loading up our plates and grabbing drinks, we took our seats at the kitchen table.
Some people liked to sit and enjoy food together while staying silent. I have never been one of those people. You could ask my brothers.
“So, tell me how you met Val.”
Sean paused in his eating and looked up from his plate. “You serious?”
“Yes.” I giggled at his expression—a fifty-fifty mix of confusion and interest. “I’m curious.”
I was. I wanted to know how long they’d been together and at what point in Sean’s life she’d entered it. And I wanted this information coming from Sean. I could’ve asked Val, but I didn’t.
Sean eyed me a moment longer. Then he sat back, took a swig of his Coke, and revealed, “I stole her wallet.”
My mouth dropped open. “You did not.”
“Yeah, I did.” He chuckled. “Ask her. She’ll confirm it.”
“That’s crazy! What happened? Did you give it back?”
“After she followed me to the bridge I was living under, yeah. I thought I got away with it at first.”
Holy crap. “How old were you?” I asked.
“Eighteen.”
“And how long had you been living under that bridge?”
“Don’t know. A couple months, maybe. I moved around a lot. I had to.”
I tried to push away thoughts I didn’t want filling my head right now, but I couldn’t. I hated thinking about Sean living on the street. It killed me knowing he was all alone. But what other option did he have?
“When did you move out of your house?” I asked, cutting off another bite of steak and popping it into my mouth. It was juicy and seasoned to perfection. I’d never had a steak this good before.
Sean did the same, except his bite was twice the size of mine.
“Fifteen. I went back when it got so cold I couldn’t stand it. Then I couldn’t stand being there, so I’d leave again.” He popped a chip in his mouth and chewed it. “Went back for the last time when I was eighteen.”
“That’s when you got your trailer.”
“Yeah.”
“Val told me she’s never been in it.”
Sean shook his head while grabbing his Coke. “I wouldn’t let her. She was too good for it.”
I smiled while he took a drink. Maybe it was strange, but I loved that he said that.
I thought about Sean at fifteen, living on the streets. I tried to picture it. Then I imagined Sean going back to that house one last time and showing off the man he’d become, against all odds. I wondered what that horrible woman thought of him.
“Have you spoken to her at all since the last time you went back?” I asked.
“Who?”
“That woman—your mom—although I don’t like calling her that. She wasn’t one.” Bitch wasn’t anything. And if I ever saw her, I’d be sure to tell her that. Using my fist.
Sean eyed me. He was so deadly serious, I lowered the chip I’d been holding and set it back on the plate.
“You okay?” I asked.
Sean looked down while cutting off another bite of steak. He ate it, then followed it up with a chip and another drink of his Coke.
“Sean?”
His eyes came up. “Told you there’d be shit I didn’t talk to you about,” he said, voice a low rumble. “This is one of those things. Pick another topic.”
I shifted in my seat.
Crap. I was terrible about letting things go and not pushing for information. It was a major flaw of mine I lived with.
“Uh…”
No. No, I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t push Sean. It didn’t matter how badly I wanted to know every little detail about him and hated being told I wouldn’t get all those details.
“Pick another topic,” he repeated, slower and in a harsher tone.
“You’re a good man,” I blurted out.
It was the first thought that entered my head. It was sometimes the only thought that filled it.
Hearing me, Sean’s expression softened.
“You deserve an amazing life,” I continued, my voice gentled. “I feel like everyone sees that but you. Your girls don’t hate you for what you did, Sean. They love you. Don’t you see how loved you are?”
He slumped back in his chair, pushed his hair back, which was completely out of the tie now, and rubbed at his face, giving me full view of his chest and the ink that covered it.
I searched for the words I knew were there. It didn’t take me long to find them.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, getting to my feet and padding across the room in a hurry. I threw the door open and darted outside.
Still barefoot, I jogged across the grass and unlocked my car.
With my lower half hanging out the door, I rummaged around the glove compartment for the black Sharpie I knew was in there. When I closed my hand around it, I smiled.
“Yes,” I whispered.
Then I grabbed my purse out of the back and returned to the house in the same hurry I’d left it, bursting through the door.
“Come with me,” I instructed, meeting Sean’s eyes before I dropped my purse on the couch and turned for the hallway.
“Why?”
I gazed back at him over my shoulder. I didn’t answer.
Seeing the seriousness in my eyes, Sean pushed his chair back and stood. That was a smart move on his part. I was geared up and ready to drag his body, dead weight and all, if he hadn’t gotten up.
I stepped inside his bedroom and waited at the foot of the bed, then, when he entered, I pointed at the mattress with the marker and ordered, “Please sit.”
Sean brought his arms across his chest and stared at me. “This important?”
“Yes.”
“Important enough we’re lettin’ the rest of our food get cold?”
I nodded firmly. “It is. And that’s saying a lot, since that is the best steak I’ve ever eaten, and you already know how I feel about those chips. I should’ve done this already.”
“Steak reheated is shit,” he informed me.
“Not if you sear it,” I shot back, watching his head tilt in appreciation and the corner of his mouth lift.
I knew a thing or two about cooking meat.
“This is urgent, Sean, and I’d rather do it in here. I have a feeling this will lead to something I’d very much like to experience in this bed, considering how many times I’ve thought about it.”