by C. Morgan
“You’re right.”
“Is it hard?”
I surveyed the area. “Not bad. The floor is flat. We could do it.”
“You’ll show me?”
“Putting in the new floor won’t be bad. It’s getting rid of this old tile that is going to be a bitch.”
“Why?”
I laughed at her sweet innocence. “Because it’s tedious. You’ll need gloves. I’ve got some hammers and chisels in my toolbox.”
“That sounds intense.”
“It’s some work. Are you sure you are up for it?”
“I am.”
“Then I’ll get the rest of my tools.”
When I walked back in, she was pushing some boxes out of the way. Her perfect ass was high in the air and absolutely making me think about sex. I doubted she was doing it on purpose but damn if I didn’t want her right then.
She stood and turned when she saw me. “Ready?”
“Always,” I answered. My voice was a little harsh. “Take this.” I gave her a heavy mallet.
“This is heavy.”
“It’s going to be even heavier after you’ve been swinging it for a few hours.”
“Am I smashing the floor?”
“No. You could. That is an option but that would be messy. We’ll start by doing it the hard way. We’ll use the chisel to pry up each tile.”
“Smashing the tiles sounds like more fun,” she said with a laugh.
“How about you smash a few tiles and we do it the hard way on the rest?”
“Why are we going to do it the hard way?” she asked with her little nose crinkling up.
“Because the hard way will take twice as long to clean. You don’t have eye protection and you’ll get cut up.”
She grinned. “Aw, you’re looking out for my wellbeing.”
“I don’t want you bloodied and hurt.”
“Me either. Slow and hard, it is.”
I flinched, sucking in a breath. I wasn’t sure she meant to say it like she did, but sex was all I heard. Slow and hard sex. I could definitely oblige. There was too much work to be done. I didn’t even have time for a quickie.
I grabbed my chisel and hammer and showed her how to break up the tile. She dropped to her knees next to me and grabbed the hammer. “Like this?”
I watched as she hit it a few times. “Yep.”
The tile popped up. She looked up and grinned. “I did it!”
“You did. Only about five hundred more to go.”
She laughed. “This isn’t so slow,” she said.
I pointed to the area where the water had been very minimal. “That’s going to be the hard part. I’ll start over there and we will work toward the middle.”
“Sounds good. Do you want to listen to some music?”
I was almost afraid to say yes. “Depends. What music do you have in mind?”
“Oh, I was thinking some soft rock or something.”
I shuddered. “I think we’re better off in silence.”
“I’m kidding. I can put on country or old school rock. I don’t do rap.”
“Country works but none of that bubblegum shit that is on the radio,” I warned. I probably sounded picky, but I was very peculiar about my music. I didn’t conform.
She pulled out her phone, and a few seconds later, Eric Church was singing about a homeboy. I could get down to that. We worked in our areas, occasionally commenting on the music or the floor.
“Wow!” Amara said as she surveyed the back room. “It’s done.”
I looked at the piles of tiles and the broken fragments that littered the area. “Not quite.”
“I’ll get a broom.”
The cleaning up went a little faster because we’d managed to pull up most of the tile without shattering it. We scrubbed at the floor with a push broom, taking it all the way down to the subfloor which was in good condition.
“Now, we’re done,” she said, wiping her brow with the back of her arm.
“We are and it’s barely lunchtime.”
“I’m starving,” she said with a laugh. “We worked up a sweat.”
I gave her a heated look. “We have before.”
She didn’t seem bothered by my innuendo. “Let’s go get the new tile and hit a drive thru. My treat.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I absolutely do have to do that. You are doing me a huge favor. Lunch is the least I can do.”
“I have some other ideas,” I told her.
“I feel like that benefits me as well.” She grinned.
“Only if I’m doing it right.”
“Oh, you’re doing it right.”
I had to close my eyes for a few seconds. She was going to make me forget all about what I was supposed to be doing. “Let’s go before I push you up against that wall.”
Her lips parted, her eyes dropping to my mouth before she gave me a nod. “We should go. I can’t afford to be closed another day.”
“We’ll take my truck.”
“Perfect,” she breathed and rushed out the back door like she was afraid of me. She wasn’t afraid of me. She was worried I would follow through with my suggestion and take her up against that wall. The idea had merit.
We drove to the big-box store she wanted to get the new flooring from. We browsed the selection for a while before she finally settled on two.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“Uh, I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve never run a restaurant before,” I answered.
“I like the white tile. It’s clean and bright and it would make the place look bigger.”
I nodded like I knew what she was talking about. “White also gets dirty fast.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Very true. This grayish-beige one might be better.”
I realized if I didn’t help her make the decision, we could very well be standing in the aisle all day. We both had work that couldn’t be put off. “I like that one,” I said, doing my best to sound assertive.
She looked at it again before putting it on the floor and leaning back. “You’re right. This is perfect. We can do the back floor with this, and down the road, I can do the dining room with something a little brighter.”
I used the calculator on my phone to determine how many cases we were going to need and started loading them on the cart. “Good?” I asked when it looked like she was having second thoughts.
“Yes. Good. I’m certain this is what I want.”
“All right, let’s checkout. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”
As we walked to the front, I didn’t miss the looks and smiles. We looked like a couple doing a home makeover. We probably looked like newlyweds. I looked over at her. I could see us renovating a house together. We would make a good team.
The cashier happily rang up the tile and the materials. When she announced the total, she looked at me. Again, assuming I was the husband or whatever.
“Oh no!” Amara exclaimed.
“What’s wrong?”
“I walked out without grabbing my business card! I was thinking about—” She stopped talking, looking at the cashier then me. “Well you know what I was thinking about.”
I pulled out my wallet and used my own credit card that I kept in case of emergencies. “Got it.”
“No, you can’t pay.”
The machine beeped and I pulled out my card. “I just did.”
I knew what it was like to not have the means to pay. I had a credit card for a reason and I didn’t mind helping her out.
“Oh my god,” she whimpered. “I’m so sorry.”
“Let’s go,” I said and pushed the cart out of the store.
It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t want her to be upset about it. I liked that I was in a position to help her. I would always take care of her.
Shit. Always? Where in the hell had that word come from?
Chapter 24
Amara
I wanted to melt into the pavement. I felt like such an idiot. I blamed him. He had me so worked up and thinking about sex, I couldn’t think straight.
“I’m so sorry,” I said again.
“It’s fine. Get in the truck and start it please. Turn on the AC.” He handed me the keys and got busy lifting the heavy boxes into the back of the truck like they weighed nothing.
“I can help you load these,” I said.
“No.”
The man didn’t leave a lot of room for debate. I was learning very quickly that when he said something, he meant it. He didn’t care for opinions. “Fulton, I feel like an idiot. I will repay you. I need to get money off the card and then I will get it to you.”
“Get in the truck and out of the heat.”
I stood and watched him work for a few seconds and then got in the truck. I was so embarrassed. I knew he didn’t have money to be throwing around, especially for me. I looked like a complete idiot, not the professional business owner I was trying to portray. A few minutes later, he hopped in the truck. I could see the sweat running down the side of his face. He aimed a vent directly at his face before throwing the truck in reverse and backing out.
“That was really an accident,” I told him. “I never meant for you to pay for the flooring supplies.”
“Amara, relax. I get it. I know what it’s like not to have the money you need at a crucial time. I’m not worried about it. I don’t mind helping you out.”
I felt guilty. I could have asked my dad for a small loan and paid someone to take care of the mess for me. Instead, I was using a man that worked hard for a living and was missing out on income in order to help me. I had a feeling he would be pissed to find out my family had money. He would feel used. I was sure I could explain that my parents had money—not me. I wanted to be independent. He would understand, right?
“Still hungry?” I asked him. “I have my debit card for that.” I laughed.
“I am hungry. I’ll pull through the drive thru up here.”
I was going to insist on paying for lunch. I would crawl over him and make sure the cashier used my card. We made our order, and as I expected, he tried to pay. I managed to convince him it was on me. He drove us back to the restaurant. We went inside, him carrying the drinks while I carried the bags of burgers and fries into the dining room.
“Do you think we’ll get finished today?” I asked him around a mouthful of burger.
He grimaced and shook his head. “I don’t.”
That was not what I was expecting to hear. “Really?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think there is any way we can get this all done. We still need to prep the floor. Then there is the actual laying of the tile, which takes time, especially cutting some of those weird angles.”
My stomach dropped. “I don’t want to sound pushy, but how long?”
“I think we can knock it out today and tomorrow.”
“Like you would come back tomorrow?” I asked.
“Of course. I don’t start something and not finish it.”
“What about your boat?”
He grinned. “Turns out my best customer isn’t going to be needing anything tomorrow.”
I didn’t know why people thought he was such a hard ass or rough around the edges. Clearly, they didn’t get to see the side of him I was seeing. I saw a generous, kind man that would do just about anything for a friend. “Are you sure? I can’t ask you to keep missing work. I know you rely on your income.”
“Don’t we all rely on our income? Besides, it’s one day. I’ll make up for it. I always do.”
“I know I’ve said it already but thank you. Thank you so much for not just helping me but for sacrificing your own work to make sure I can operate.”
“If you don’t open, I lose a client,” he said matter-of-factly. “Economics one-oh-one and I didn’t even have to go to school to learn that.”
I laughed. “Very true and very smart.”
“I try.”
“Do you have other customers that are going to need you to go out tomorrow?” I asked.
He shrugged, not looking all that worried. “We’re good. We made our deliveries for the week. One more day won’t kill me.”
“Good. I’ll make it up to you. Dinner on me for a week.”
“You don’t have to make it up to me,” he insisted. “But dinner does sound good.”
“I have to make it up to you somehow, and considering I don’t know jack about fishing, I can’t help you there.”
“You could swab the deck,” he teased.
“I suppose I could. You call me the next time it needs swabbing. What is swabbing anyway?”
He smiled. “I’ve seen you do it. You’ll do fine.”
I leaned forward. “You’ve seen me do a lot of things. Can you be more specific?” I was teasing him. I liked flirting with him and watching his nostrils flare and his eyes darken with lust. It made me feel sexy and powerful to know he was turned on by me.
“Mopping,” he said, his gaze locked on mine.
The word was nothing. It was anything but exciting, but the way he said it and the way he was looking at me were very exciting. I wanted to crawl over the table and sit in his lap. That was not ladylike, I reminded myself. Then again, I wasn’t feeling all that proper in my worn jeans and my dirty shirt. I had been sweating and probably had dust from the tile all over me.
“We should probably get started on that floor or things are probably not going to get done,” I said, unable to pull my eyes away from him.
He nodded. “Things will get done but not the floors.”
Oh, the man was tempting me. I didn’t care that we were both sweaty and dirty. It made me want him even more. “I’ll clean up.”
I snatched the wrappers and walked away. I had to. If I didn’t put some distance between us, I would absolutely jump him. We were both in a time crunch and did not have time to be fucking around—literally. Another time.
“Ready?” he asked.
I stared down at the floor, having no real idea what it was I was agreeing to be ready for, but nodded my head anyway. “Let’s do this.”
As we worked, I could see him fighting the urge to do it himself. It would have been easier for him to just do it, but he was patient. He explained what he was doing and why. Then he took the time to show me before letting me do it, gently correcting me when I did it wrong. His big hands held mine as we worked at leveling the floor. When it came time to cutting the tile, I was nervous.
“You’ve never used power tools, have you?”
“No,” I said with a laugh. “Does it show?”
“They are perfectly safe when used right.”
We worked until six before I insisted we wrap up for the day. He would probably work straight through the night if I didn’t stop him.
“I’ll be back here in the morning,” he said. “Early.”
“I’ll be here with my toolbelt.”
I could see the exhaustion on his face. I imagined he worked like this every day. I grabbed his hand when he turned to leave. I gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You bet your ass you will,” he said before swatting said ass and walking out the back door.
I made sure everything was locked before calling Kerri and inviting her for a drink. She eagerly accepted my offer. I didn’t bother going home to shower and change. It felt good to have put in a full day’s work and still be wearing it like a badge of honor.
I got to the bar before Kerri and ordered a glass of wine. Kerri slid into the chair across the table from me.
“Damn,” she said, her lip curled. “Is this a new look?”
I looked down at my shirt before brushing a hand over my hair. “I was too tired to go home and change.”
“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you look like hell.”
“I’ve been working my ass off all morning.”
“On the pipe?�
� she asked with confusion. “I thought it was going to be an easy fix.”
“The pipe was an easy fix but the damage to the floor was pretty bad. We decided to replace it.”
Her eyes widened. “What do you mean replace it? Are we opening tomorrow?”
“No. I need one more day. We’re redoing the entire floor in the back room.”
“No shit!”
I laughed. “Yep. We pulled it all up and started laying new tile. It’s going to look pretty awesome. I might decide to do the dining room next.”
“Like you are actually doing the work?”
“Some of it. Fulton is doing most of it. He’s showing me a few things, but we’ve been working together.”
A waitress came by and she quickly ordered a drink. “Fulton? Damn, I didn’t know he was so nice.”
“He’s been very generous with his time.”
“Sounds like he wants a little something from you,” she teased.
“He doesn’t have to redo my floors to get that from me,” I said with a laugh. “I’ve given that willingly and will continue to do so.”
“Naughty, naughty.”
“Like you said, he’s a good guy. I think he gets a bad rap because he isn’t all rainbows and sunshine. He’s a genuine person. He doesn’t want or need the thanks. He does it because he’s a good man.”
“Sounds like you have a crush on him.”
“I do like him.”
Her drink was delivered. She ran her finger over the rim of the glass. “Do I detect a little something more than a simple liking of the man?”
My first response was to deny it. Then I thought about it, doing a quick catalog of all the emotions I was feeling. “Is it wrong if I say yes?”
“Why would it be wrong?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like he’s the kind of guy that gets involved with women. He doesn’t seem like he wants a relationship.”
“He seems to be pretty dedicated to you. What more could you want from a man? He is helping you when he doesn’t have to. He could be doing his thing, but instead, he dropped everything to help you out.”
“I know and it is crazy. I’ve never had someone do that for me.”
“I think it sounds like he is committed.”