A Co-Worker's Crush

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A Co-Worker's Crush Page 9

by Piper Rayne


  “Thanks, Lyle.”

  After they’re gone, I ignore the client in Dylan’s chair. “You guys can’t always pick up and change plans because she wants something.”

  They share another look then both smirk at me. “Yes, we can,” they say in unison.

  I blow out a breath. “You guys are busy this weekend too.”

  “I’m still appointment only, and I’m mostly only taking regulars right now,” Jax says. That explains why his head has been more buried in his notebook than tattooing someone lately.

  “And you?” I ask Dylan.

  “Well, every time Rian sees me with Jolie, it earns me points.”

  I roll my eyes. “You’re using my daughter to get laid?”

  He looks guilty for a second then points at his client. “I need to pay attention.” He looks away from me and gets back to work.

  Chickenshit.

  “Seriously, this Annabelle needs to get what she deserves.” Jax sets his tattoo gun down for a minute and locks his gaze with mine.

  “Let’s remember she’s a five-year-old.”

  “Five-year-olds can be assholes too. Usually trickles down the apple tree,” Jax says.

  I shake my head and sit down, pulling out the sketch for my client. Then I realize there’s one thing I forgot to say.

  “Hey, Jax?” I say, looking at him.

  “Thanks.”

  He winks and smiles at me, and my stomach flips. What the hell was that? My stomach doesn’t flip for Jax. It’s never flipped for anyone.

  On Saturday, I walk into the Rooftop Apartments where everyone lives. Sure enough, there’s a sign by the mailboxes saying an apartment on the floor below everyone is for rent. Two bedroom, one bath.

  Jolie and I step into the elevator, and for the first time, I wonder how nice it might be if we lived here. Then again, I’ve always felt like the one who drags her kid along and brings down the fun in their group. Still, they all treat Jolie like their adored niece or something, and there’s no way I could ever thank them all enough for helping me with her. Especially since Michael doesn’t care.

  I knock on Dylan’s apartment door, and he tells me to come in. As usual, their door is unlocked, so we walk in. He and Jax are at the kitchen table, looking down at a laptop.

  “I think we have to do a mixture of food dye and water,” Jax says.

  Jolie walks up and slides onto a kitchen chair, leaning forward with her chin in her palm, enthralled by what they’re talking about.

  I place the canvas bag in my hand near the front door. “I brought a bag of snowman things, like a carrot and a scarf and—”

  “Oh, we’re not doing a boring snowman,” Dylan says. “Our snowman is gonna be badass.”

  Rian comes out from the bedroom in her Sweet Infusion T-shirt and jeans. I know Kamea has been helping her more and more, and I wonder if she opened for Rian this morning. “Don’t even bother, the two have been at this all night.” She pulls her hair up into a ponytail, walking over to Jolie, then hugs her.

  Jolie hugs her back fiercely.

  “Are you excited? Make sure they include you, okay?” She runs her hand down Jolie’s hair.

  “She’s included. What do you think the snowman would want? Tribal or skull?” Jax asks.

  Jolie laughs. “We have to name him.” As though she just remembered, she perks up and looks out on the balcony. “I gotta go say hi to Earl.”

  “Oh, take Gumdrop with you so he can go to the bathroom.” I hand her the puppy, and Winston waddles out behind them. I walk up to the table to find some sketches, mixtures of bottles, and an airbrush. They really are taking things too far. “Thanks for doing this. Remember, it’s a family event.”

  “Oh, and here I was going to make the carrot his dick.” Jax shakes his head.

  “I meant more that I know you feel this protectiveness over Jolie, but we’re not in competition with Annabelle and her family. You know that, right?”

  Rian laughs, pouring a to-go cup of coffee. “Should’ve told them that yesterday.”

  “If you only lived here.” Dylan glances up with a smirk.

  “Live here?” Jax asks.

  “The apartment for rent downstairs,” Dylan fills him in.

  Jax nods. “You might have some competition. I heard a detective and his girlfriend are thinking about moving in there.”

  Dylan and Rian stare at him in disbelief.

  “I thought they wanted to stay with you?” Dylan asks.

  Jax shrugs. “Knox brought it up casually. But you know if they move out, you can always move in.” Jax winks at me, and his gaze drifts quickly over my body.

  I resist the urge to shiver under his attention, and I refuse to revisit the night we were together in my thoughts. Not in front of him anyway.

  “And one of you end up in a body bag?” Dylan laughs. “I like my peaceful floor, other than Seth’s loud fucking.”

  “It is horrendous. He sounds like a hurt llama or something,” Rian chimes in.

  “Well, I wasn’t going to take it anyway. We’re only seven blocks from here.” I try to pretend I wasn’t thinking of how nice it would be to live in this building right before I came up here. And they’re right that although Jax and I have found common ground recently, for us to live so close to each other might ruin whatever friendship we’ve formed.

  “Want a coffee?” Rian asks.

  “No, I’ll have one at the shop. I’m going to say goodbye to Jolie.”

  I walk through their apartment, seeing new pictures of Rian and Dylan on tables and walls. They’ve really built their life together in the short time they’ve been a couple. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little envious. Even when Michael and I were together, I’m not sure I ever framed a picture of us. We were too busy surviving. Not that I’m not happy for Dylan and Rian. They deserve all the happiness they’ve found.

  “I’m leaving, so I’ll see you later. Don’t let the boys do anything crazy.” I hold out my arms.

  Jolie hugs me, kissing me on the cheek. “Mommy, Winston peed on Earl.” She glares at Winston.

  “Well, Earl’s a tree, I think he’s probably used to it.”

  She shakes her head. I pick up Gumdrop to bring him in.

  “Bye, Earl.” Jolie waves and goes back inside.

  Winston follows me in. Rian’s already got her coat on and kissing Dylan goodbye. I stand there awkwardly with Jax as they tell each other how much they love one another and say how much they’ll miss each other.

  “It’s, like, eight hours,” Jax says.

  Rian waves at Jax while they kiss one last time. Once Rian and Dylan are away from one another, I try to act unfazed by their love.

  “Be good, boys,” I say, walking out with Rian.

  “You know one of them might end up at the police station today?” Rian laughs as she hits the elevator button.

  “Hopefully, Knox is on duty.” We step inside.

  “It’s a shame about the apartment. I was hoping you’d move in. Dylan said he’s been trying to convince you.”

  I shrug. “I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.”

  She smiles. “Maybe another one will come up.”

  “Maybe.” I shrug as if I don’t care, but truth is, I’d love to live in this building with people who love my daughter more than her actual father does.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jax

  * * *

  Dylan signs us up on the sheet, and we head over to our designated spot.

  “I can’t believe this is an actual thing. Could you imagine doing this when we were growing up?” I ask with Jolie’s hand in mine because damn, there are so many people here.

  “I’m pretty sure every snowman would’ve been holding a bottle of alcohol or they’d be smoking something.”

  We walk past the other families who have already started their snowmen, rolling the snow into big balls. Jolie’s footsteps slow while she inspects everyone else’s work. Once we reach our designated spot, I see t
hat they’ve pushed snow into the spots so everyone would have enough. I swear this is next level Leave it to Beaver shit.

  “Jolie!” A girl runs over, looking as if she’s about to go on a ski trip in her matching pink snowsuit, hat, and gloves.

  “Hey, Annabelle,” Jolie says.

  Dylan glances at me, and we share a look to say “there’s our competition.” No matter what Frankie said, we have to beat these people.

  “We already started.” Annabelle points, and I follow the direction of her finger to a couple arguing over the size of the snowballs. “My mom says my dad needs bigger balls and he says they’re fine.”

  Dylan laughs but clears his throat immediately.

  “You definitely want big balls,” I say. “Introduce us to your friends, Jolie.”

  “This is Annabelle. Annabelle, this is Jax and Dylan.”

  “Are you her dads?” she asks.

  “We’re her uncles,” Dylan chimes in. “Her dad couldn’t be here, and her mom had to work.”

  “Oh…” Annabelle glances at her parents. Her mom is trying to push through the snow to make their bottom ball larger. “I better go. Good luck,” she says and runs off.

  Jolie’s whole demeanor changes once her friend is gone. She’s not nearly as excited as she was when we came over here.

  “Come on, Dylan can’t roll the ball himself.” I nudge her, and Jolie rolls the smaller ball.

  We work for an hour to get the balls the right size and to get them on top of one another without falling over. She should be happy it’s Dylan and me because this shit is heavy. I catch Jolie glancing at Annabelle sometimes, and every time I look, her parents are arguing. Another reason Jolie should be happy it’s Dylan and me here.

  “Mommy gave me a scarf.” Jolie pulls it out of the bag Frankie left.

  “I’m going to find somewhere to plug in this extension cord.” Dylan disappears.

  Jolie sits on the ground, playing with the snow in her mittens. She glances at the people around us. Carrots, charcoal, top hats, and scarves all adorn their snowmen. The most original one is someone who put on their favorite sports team gear and another who made little snowmen to go with the big snowman.

  Her nose scrunches up. “Different?”

  I sit down with her, my ass freezing. “Different is another word for unique, and it’s good to be unique.”

  She looks over at Annabelle who is putting that beige, black, and red plaid pattern I see on every rich woman in town on their snowman. “I don’t like being different.”

  I nudge her leg. “How are you different?”

  She shrugs, and my heart squeezes. Today was supposed to be fun. She should be smiling and happy. That’s why I rearranged my schedule and canceled people who booked me two months ago.

  Jolie says, “I don’t have a dad.”

  “You do have a dad.”

  “Not a dad like that.” She glares at Annabelle.

  “True, but you have Dylan and me. I think that’s a little better than just one dad.” I act offended, and she laughs. “Want to know something?”

  “What?”

  I pack a snowball and start on another one. “I don’t have a dad or a mom.”

  Her eyes widen. “Really? Why not?”

  I shrug. “That’s a long story, but I grew up okay, right?”

  She smiles and nods in triple time.

  “And you want to know another thing?”

  “What?”

  I hand her the snowball I made. “Dylan doesn’t either. And he’s pretty cool too, right?”

  She nods.

  “You’re young and you might not understand this now, but family doesn’t have to mean that you share blood with them. Sometimes family are the friends you choose.”

  “Share blood?” Her forehead crinkles.

  Shit, I have no idea how to talk to a five-year-old who just wants to be like every other kid—have a dad and a mom, live in a house with a yard, and have a dog to chase. I was there once myself, wanting all the same things.

  “Scratch that. Everyone is dealt cards in life. Some people get both parents, some get mommies, some get daddies, some get none. But you make the most of what you do have, and you need to be grateful for what you were given.”

  Annabelle’s parents’ arguing grows louder. A reminder that not every relationship is perfect no matter how it might appear at first glance.

  “Your mommy is pretty awesome, isn’t she?”

  Jolie nods. “Yeah.”

  “And because of her, you know all of us. And we’re the coolest, right?”

  She giggles and nods. “Yeah.”

  “I mean, Rian bakes with you, Knox lets you play with his handcuffs, Kamea made you that T-shirt you wanted, Seth lets you play with his camera, Blanca made you famous on her blog, and then there’s me—I let you do all the stuff your real parent wouldn’t.” I wink at her, and she nods. “I bet a lot of your friends don’t have that much. And you have Grandma Sandy too. A lot of people have grandparents who live far away, and they never see them.”

  She copies what I’m doing with the snowball and we end up having a good size stack in front of us.

  “So try to think about what you do have, not what you don’t, and you’ll be a lot happier.”

  She stands and her small arms wrap around my neck, squeezing tight.

  “What was that for?” I chuckle.

  “For being you. I love you, Jax.”

  Dylan rounds our snowman and stops in his tracks, his eyebrows flying up to the edge of his knit cap.

  “Thanks for being you, because you know I only hang out with the coolest people,” I say.

  She laughs and dislodges herself from me. “Dylan!” She gives him a hug.

  I’m thankful for the reprieve because I need a moment after her undeserved declaration of love. Just hearing the words from her mouth makes me want to deserve them.

  We’re finishing up the snowman and I can’t even argue with Dylan about his drive to get the full sleeve tattoo perfect. Most families are sitting around drinking hot chocolate and eating cookies. Jolie and I are trying to get the disposable gloves on the arms made out of branches.

  “How come it’s a snowman?” Jolie asks.

  Dylan stops what he’s doing to look at her.

  “There are no girls.” Her gaze scatters along all the finished snowmen.

  Dylan looks at me. I pull my phone out of my pocket because we’re totally on the same wavelength.

  “Let’s make a snowwoman then?” I ask Jolie.

  Her eyes light up and she looks at the tattoo. “Mommy. The snowwoman could be Mommy.”

  Dylan nods. “Definitely. But everything we brought is more for a man.”

  “I’m calling reinforcements,” I say, looking at my phone and typing away.

  Jolie and I finally get the disposable gloves on after the branches breaking through them ten times. Dylan’s finished with the full sleeve, making some colors more feminine than we had originally planned. We’re just about done when Annabelle walks over with her mom.

  “Oh, this is unique,” her mom says.

  I look at Jolie and wink.

  The mom’s eyes fall over Dylan and me as though she’d like a scoop of whatever we’re serving. She’s the epitome of a squeaky clean rich girl wanting to see what’s on the other side of the tracks. I’ve seen it and taken advantage of it more than I’d care to admit.

  “It’s my mommy,” Jolie says.

  “Really?” Annabelle asks, her face twisted in disgust.

  “Yeah, because my mommy is a tattoo artist.” Jolie’s sweet smile makes my chest warm.

  “Oh yes, do you guys work at that Ink Envy?” the mom asks.

  Dylan rolls his eyes so that I’m the only one that can see.

  “We do,” I say.

  “I keep telling my friends we should all go in and get matching ones. Do you do parties?”

  “Parties?” I tilt my head.

  “Yes, like I rent the pla
ce out, we all get tattoos and drink wine, have some laughs and a good time.” She eyes me over the rim of her hot chocolate cup as though I’m involved in the “have a good time” part.

  “We never have before, but I guess we could. Unfortunately, Jolie’s mom, Frankie, and Jax here are by appointment only usually. They’re in high demand,” Dylan says, putting away his airbrush.

  “I bet you’re in high demand.” She raises her eyebrows at me.

  Even I’m creeped out. Good thing Frankie and Rian walk up just in time.

  “Mommy!” Jolie screeches and tugs on her hand.

  Frankie looks toward where we’re talking with Annabelle’s mom but allows herself to be distracted by the snowwoman.

  “It’s you,” Jolie declares.

  “Me?”

  Rian laughs, and Dylan kisses her hello.

  Annabelle’s mom doesn’t miss their interaction, frowning a bit. “You own Sweet Infusion, right?” She points at Rian.

  Rian dislodges herself from Dylan, giggling. “I do.”

  “You have the best chocolate cake. I got it for Annabelle’s birthday party and all the kids loved it.”

  “Oh, I remember. Two weeks ago, right?” Rian smiles. “Thank you so much.”

  As my head volleys between them, I see Jolie’s smile fade. I don’t remember mention of a birthday party that Jolie went to a couple of weeks ago.

  “Hi, I’m Frankie, Jolie’s mom.” Frankie steps up to my side and puts out her hand. “Jolie talks about Annabelle a lot.”

  The mom shakes Frankie’s hand and smiles, but it doesn’t even reach her cheeks, let alone reach her eyes. “Nice to meet you. I see you pick her up sometimes. Otherwise it’s her nanny?”

  My forehead scrunches. Do we look like nanny people?

  “Oh, that’s her grandma,” Frankie says.

  “That’s sweet. I’m not sure we could get Annabelle’s grandmother out from all her charity work to pick her up.”

  Frankie nods, her smile not genuine either.

  Annabelle walks over to Jolie and the two talk about the other snowmen. I can tell that Jolie is upset now that she’s realized she wasn’t invited to Annabelle’s birthday party.

 

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