by KD Robichaux
Nope, none of that was important.
Just the fact that Cecilia Willimson thinks this dude with the nerdy name is hot.
That is all.
“Normally, we’d give the drinks out free to customers, but seeing as no one came in because of the shitty weather, I guess we’ll just have to toss them… or drink them ourselves,” I suggest, and I hold my breath while I wait for her reaction. It’s just the two of us here this evening. I sent everyone else home when we figured no one would be driving in this awful thunderstorm, and since Cece’s ex has the kids until her sister gets off work, we thought it was the perfect opportunity to finally get her ready for bartending.
She looks up at me wide-eyed. “I… um. I don’t know how wise that would be, trying to make it home in this weather after drinking. I doubt there are many Uber drivers available tonight.”
I shrug. “I could always take you home. I’ll just taste test each one, and you can drink as much as you want. It’s not like we’re going anywhere anytime soon,” I say, glancing out the window and seeing the rain starting to come in sideways.
Just then, an awful wailing noise comes from inside Cece’s apron, and she practically jumps out of her skin. She drops the soda nozzle she was holding and pulls her phone out of her front pocket, shutting off the alarm. Her eyebrows lower, and she looks up at me. “Tornado warning.”
“How long have you lived here?” I smile, tilting my head.
“Almost eleven years,” she replies.
I chuckle. “And you still keep your inclement weather alarm on? You should know by now these happen all the time.”
She narrows her eyes on me. “I am a mother of three. It is my duty to worry about everything.”
“Do you want to call and check on your girls?” I ask her, and she bites her lip in indecision as she glances back down at her phone. I can see the worry marring her expression, and I know she wants to make sure they’re all right, even if it does require her to call her ex. I feel the same way, but at least I would just be calling my ex’s parents, not the wicked witch herself.
To give her a little passive-aggressive nudge, I pull out my own phone and hit Dial on Margorie’s number. She answers after two rings.
“Hey, hon.”
“Hey, Marge. My boy all right? Y’all safe at home?” I ask, and Cece’s eyes whip up to mine so quickly she takes a step sideways to keep her balance. My brows furrow, but I listen for Marge’s reply, pushing the speakerphone button and setting my cell on the bar top so I can use both hands to dry some glasses.
“Yeah, we’re home and hunkered down in the bathroom. Ready to throw a mattress on top of us if it gets any worse,” she assures.
“Dad! The rain is sideways! It looks so cool, like that time we were on the plane and it took off in the rain and the water went sideways on the windows!” Nick yells from a short distance, his voice echoing slightly in his grandparents’ bathroom as Marge puts me on speaker.
Cece’s eyes widen, her lips parting, and I have the sudden urge to wrap my arm around the small of her back, pull her to me, and kiss the fuck out of her.
“That’s awesome, buddy. Just listen to Grandma and Papa, and they’ll keep you safe until I get you Monday, okay? Just two days, all right?”
“’Kay, Dad. Love you,” he replies.
“Love you too. Bye, Marge,” I add.
“Bye, hon. See you soon,” she tells me, and we end the call.
Cece blinks up at me. “I… I didn’t know you have a son.”
“Which I find rather fascinating. How have you worked here for six months and not known I have a kid?” My head tilts to the side in question.
“How would I know if you didn’t tell me?” she fires back.
I shrug. “I figured Steph would’ve mentioned Nick by now.”
She shakes her head. “Nope, he hasn’t come up in any conversation. Are you with his mom? Do you not see him much?” she asks rapid-fire, and then she slaps her hand over her mouth, her eyes widening adorably in embarrassment. She mumbles behind her hand. “I’m so sorry. That was rude of me and totally not my business.”
I chuckle, pulling her hand away from her face by her wrist. “It’s okay, naekkeo. No, his mom and I aren’t together. Haven’t been for over three years now. And yes, I get him every other week.”
A look of relief flits across her face before she can hide it by turning toward the bar, and I can’t help but smirk. So, Cece is relieved I’m—
Suddenly, all the lights go out, and a loud crash right outside the front doors makes Cece gasp as her hand lands on my chest, latching onto me. I turn on the flashlight app on my phone and see the terrified look on her beautiful face. Immediately, it sends me into action.
My arm swoops around her, and she’s up against my chest with her arms locked around my neck as I carry her bridal style to the door leading to the kitchen.
“Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God,” she chants as I stride to the stainless-steel, walk-in refrigerator. I set her down at the door, and she looks up at me in a panic.
“Stay here,” I order, and as she lights up her own cell, I take off out of the kitchen and to my office, grabbing the armful of moving blankets in the corner I use to help transport our alcohol supply and my coat off the back of my chair before hurrying back to Cece. “The generator will keep the refrigerators and freezer going, but not the lights. Come on.”
I open the door, and she steps inside, and then I pull the door closed behind us. I drop the pile of blankets to the floor and wrap my coat around her, and she automatically sticks her arms through the holes. I pick up one of the blankets, wrapping it around her, and then pick her up once more, sitting down on the floor of the cold room with her now in my lap. Grabbing one more of the blankets, I wrap it around the both of us, and I see her eyes widen as the building around us makes a god-awful noise. It almost sounds like that part in Titanic when the ship starts to stand straight up in the air. It sends a shiver up my back that’s not from the coldness of the refrigerator. No, I’m not feeling a bit of chill, because right now, even with the terrifying weather happening seemingly on top of us, I feel nothing but the heat of Cece’s tiny body wrapped up in my much, much bigger one.
I feel her body quiver, and I tighten my arms around her, but when I hear her wet sniffle, I realize it’s not from being cold. I pull back enough to look into her face, so close to mine, closer than it’s ever been before, and if it weren’t for the tears streaming down her pale cheeks I see from her flashlight app, there’s no way I would be able to resist kissing her the way I’ve wanted to since the moment she first walked into my kitchen all those months ago.
“It’s going to be okay, naekkeo. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. We’re totally safe in here. They used to tell people to jump into their fridges back in the day when nuclear bombs were a big threat. And we’re in a massive fucking refrigerator. Nothing’s going to hurt you,” I tell her softly, rubbing my hand up and down her slender back.
She shakes her head, her eyes full of worry breaking my heart, especially as she says, “I didn’t get to call them. I didn’t have a chance to call my babies.”
I swallow thickly, wishing I hadn’t been passive aggressive about nudging her to call and check on her kids only minutes ago instead of just outright telling her she should. “I’m sure they’re safe. You ex lives on the other side of town, right? So they’re probably far enough away from all this. They’re safe,” I try to assure her, but I can see the not knowing is driving her to a panic.
She shakes her head. “And we’re in a metal box, so even if I try to call them right now, it wouldn’t go through.” And then she gasps. “And my sister! She’s at the dealership right now. It’s just a glass building. Where the fuck is she going to take cover, Winston?”
Her saying my first name is jarring and just shows how freaked out she is. Not to mention I’ve never heard her cuss before. If we weren’t in the middle of a tornado, and she was on my lap, wrapped up in blan
kets in my arms, my scent covering her because she’s swaddled in my coat for any other reason and dropped that F-bomb, I would have the biggest hard-on of the century. But the look of absolute terror in her eyes keeps the blood from flowing directly to my cock nestled beneath her right thigh.
“It’ll be over soon, naekkeo. The second it goes quiet, we’ll run out of here and you can call them, okay? It won’t be long now,” I promise, and I thread my fingers up the back of her dark hair and pull her head against me. She tucks her face in my neck, and I can feel her breathe me in. The moment she exhales, her body relaxes completely against me. I close my eyes, memorizing this moment, taking a mental snapshot of what it’s like to have Cece nestled against me, trusting me to keep her safe. It’s addictive and heady, and I never want it to end.
It’s a weird sensation, being unaware of how much time passes. Added to the fact that I don’t want this moment to end, wrapped up with the woman of my dreams, all while praying for the storm to pass quickly, my mind and emotions are a total clusterfuck of opposing thoughts.
And just as suddenly as everything began, the awful Titanic noise stops and everything goes quiet except for the white noise of the fridge’s hum.
Cece slowly pulls her head out of my neck and looks up at me, her eyes darting down to my lips for a moment before she pulls them back to my eyes. I know… I can just tell… she wants to kiss me just as badly as I want to kiss her. There is no wondering or self-doubt, because I can read it in her expression as clearly as if the words were written across her soft skin.
But I’ll be damned if the first time I kiss her is when she’s petrified, worried about if her children are safe. I won’t let that mar the memory of the first time I claim her lips as mine.
Carefully, I stand up with her in my arms and then set her on her feet, shrugging the blankets off that were around us before stepping toward the refrigerator door. I say a silent prayer just before I open it, hoping the restaurant is still intact.
I breathe out a sigh of relief when I lift my cell’s flashlight and see everything is as we last saw it, perfectly clean and ready for the next day.
Cece steps around me with her phone to her ear. “It’s ringing. That’s a good sign right? It wouldn’t ring if cell towers were down. Come on, come on.” She closes her eyes, and then they pop open and she looks up at me. “Oh, thank God. Mike, are the girls all right?” she asks, starting to pace, and I keep my flashlight on her to light her way. My phone is about to die, so I keep it aimed at her and send a quick text to Marge to make sure everything turned out okay over their way.
Marge: Yep, went right past us. We’re all right.
“Okay, um. I’m going to start heading home. I haven’t even looked outside yet, so I don’t know what roads are like, but I’ll text you when I get there and let you know it’s okay to bring them,” she says, and then she ends the call without responding to whatever it is he tells her. “The girls are good,” she breathes, and I have just enough time to take two strides toward her before she collapses against me as I catch her in my arms.
“Naekkeo, you’re shaking like a leaf. Let’s sit you down for a minute.” I check her pulse in her neck. “Your heart is racing a mile a minute. Gotta get you calmed down before I’ll even let you think about driving home. Come here.” With my arm wrapped around her back, I guide her out to the bar, where all the drinks are still neatly lined up. On the other side of it, I pull out one of the stools and help her up on one, pulling one of the fruity concoctions toward her. “Drink this before you pass out. The sugar will help.”
She lifts it to her lips and takes a small sip. Her eyes dart down to the rum drink and she licks her lips, and I barely contain the groan that almost escapes. “Damn, that’s good,” she murmurs and takes another sip.
“Have you never had a Kiss on the Lips before?” I ask, and I seriously want to roll my eyes at myself for not thinking that question through.
She snorts. “Not in a very long time, I assure you.” She reaches across the bar and grabs a straw, sticking it into the short glass. “And as far as liquor drinks go, no, never. I’ve only ever drank wine, because that’s what classy ladies drink,” she tells me, divulging more in those three sentences than I’ve ever heard her say about her personal life. One, she hasn’t been kissed in quite some time, and two, from the bitterness in her tone, it sounds like her ex was a controlling bastard who wouldn’t even let her try anything new, not even a cocktail.
She takes a pull from her straw, her eyes rolling back as she moans, and this time, there is no stopping my cock from going rigid behind my zipper. “Fuck, that’s good,” she says, and I nearly come in my pants. I’m worried I let out a whimper when her eyes turn to me then, but mentally sigh in relief when I realize she’s just offering me a taste of the drink when she holds it out to me. “Want to check my work, boss?”
Fuuuck. That does it. There will be no getting out of jacking off tonight once I finally make it home.
Instead of taking the glass from her, I lean down, my eyes never wavering from hers as I wrap my lips around the end of her straw and suck in a mouthful of the sweet fruity drink. Her eyes heat as they move from mine, down to my lips, and then back up again, and I hear her gulp as her dainty nostrils flare.
“Delicious,” I growl, pausing just a moment before finally standing back up, one elbow still propped on the bar as I face her. “You’re a star student, naekkeo.”
She swallows again and then mindlessly takes another sip of her drink. She seems dazed when she says quietly, “I’m feeling a little better now.”
With a mind of its own, my hand reaches out and tucks her hair behind her ear, and her eyes close as she leans into my touch. The moment is sweet yet heavy, my heart pounding inside my chest, because her reaction to my closeness seems instinctual, unconscious, as if our bodies are magnetized only to each other.
When her eyes open once again, I finally drop my hand away, smiling gently at her. “I’m glad. Do you want me to drive you home?”
More life suddenly lights her eyes, and she sets down her drink. “I need to check on my sister. I should’ve heard from her by now.” She scrambles to get her phone out of her front pocket and checks the screen. “Oh. Oh shit. It’s on silent. I have four missed calls from her,” she tells me, and she hurries to call her back.
It rings a couple of times, and I hear a muffled feminine voice on the other end. “…okay?”
“Yes, I’m okay. Oh, thank God. I’m at work, and we hid in the refrigerator. We’re all good. The restaurant was missed, thank goodness.” She listens to what her sister says, which I can’t make out because she’s talking way too fast, and Cece’s eyes widen as she looks up at me. “Holy shit. Well, I’m glad the guy snatched you up and carried you to safety. Where are you now?” She squawks. “An ambulance? You said you’re okay! What’s wrong?”
I don’t think she realizes it, and God knows I’m not going to bring awareness to it if it means she’ll let go, but during her conversation with her sister, Cece has reached out and grasped hold of my forearm, her graceful fingers digging into the sleeve of my flannel.
“Oh, okay. God, don’t scare me like that. Well, I hope the little old lady is all right. Call me when you’re ready, and I’ll come get you from the hospital. I’m meeting Mike at the house so he can bring me the girls, and we’ll head your way whenever you need.” A beat passes with her listening, and still, she doesn’t let go of my arm. “No, no. It’s fine. Don’t waste any money on an Uber. It’s the weekend anyway. The girls can go to bed late. It’s fine. Okay, I love you, Mia.” She smiles lightly. “Okay, bye.”
It’s not until she ends the call and sets her cell on the bar that she realizes where her hand is, and she finally lets go, and it’s like all the warmth inside my body is taken with it.
“Well, I guess I better head out. Hopefully the roads aren’t too bad,” she says, spinning on the bar stool and tucking her phone into her back pocket. She then unties her apron from a
round her hips that flare out and beckon my hands to grasp them and pull her close. Now that I’ve had her pressed to me, her curves tucked up against my plains, fitting as if she was made just for me, I know I have to find a way to make her mine.
There is no more waiting. It was already hard enough, fighting the urges without having a single taste of her, but now that I’ve experienced even the barest modicum of intimacy, I’m already an addict for Cece, and I won’t stop until she’s mine.
God knows there will be obstacles. There is no easy and painless road to get to my goal. The smallest speedbump being Mike, who is still technically her husband.
No. That cheating bastard is the least of my worries.
But other things, other people, on my side of the equation—that’s another story in itself.
And I can only hope that once Cece finds out the truth, she doesn’t stop looking at me like I’m her savior.
9
Cece
A few weeks later
“Morning,” Mia greets me.
“Morning, I already fed Merc and Ret, and let them out,” I tell her, my voice sounding down even to my own ears.
“Thanks.” She walks past me to the coffee pot and fills up her cup, adds creamer, and takes it to the island, where she sits on a stool. “How was work?” she asks, blowing across the top of her mug.
“Good.” I spread peanut butter on a slice of bread then place it carefully on top of another slice I covered in jelly. I know she’s waiting for me to say more, but I can’t seem to find the words. Not after the news I found out. I’m still kind of in shock if not numb to it all.
“Have you spoken to Mike?” she prompts, and I can tell by her tone she’s getting annoyed at having to drag any information out of me.