by Kate, Jiffy
“Wyatt’s a great boss,” I finally tell Sarah, working overtime to keep from throwing myself at the man beside me. “I’ve just been tired...working here, helping CeCe,” I tell her. “Oh, and I’ve been volunteering at Charity House.”
“I knew I saw you there,” Shaw says, finally speaking. “A week or so ago...I was taking some food by and I saw you...at the corner.”
“You saw me?” I ask, wondering when and how I missed him.
“When did you start volunteering at Charity House?” Sarah asks, genuine interest in her tone.
Turning my attention back to her, I smile, thinking back. “Maybe two weeks ago. I’ve been going over there a couple times a week, just doing whatever they need me to do—laundry, organizing, making up cots...”
Sarah gives me one of her warm, approving smiles as her hand moves over the table to rest on top of mine, giving it a light squeeze. “That’s great. Shaw and I were just discussing putting together a Christmas dinner for the residents. Would you like to help us?”
I feel my whole face light up with her question and nod my head without even glancing at Shaw. I’m sure he’s the catalyst for this idea. I love him even more for it. “I’d love to. When were you planning on doing it?”
“On the twenty-second. It’d be in the evening around six o’clock. Do you think you’d be able to get off work?” she asks, digging back into her pancakes when Wyatt shows up with my own breakfast—two pancakes with a small plate of potatoes and two pieces of bacon.
“O’Sullivan Special?” I ask, looking down at the delicious breakfast in front of me and back up at Sarah...then to Shaw, who’s still watching me with a tenderness that is alarming and awakens every cell in my body.
He nods.
Sarah smiles.
“Looks really delicious,” I tell them, suddenly feeling ravenous. Thankfully, along with the food, Wyatt remembered the coffee, so before digging in, I pour four creams into my cup, along with a packet of sugar.
“Four creams and a sugar,” Shaw mutters, almost to himself.
Peering at him over the edge of my cup, our eyes lock again for a brief moment before I finally take a tentative sip.
When I set the cup back down and pick up my fork, I will the butterflies in my stomach to calm and go back to mine and Sarah’s conversation, trying to ignore the way my skin burns under Shaw’s gaze. “I’ll ask Dixie to make sure I’m off early that night.”
“Good,” Sarah says with another smile as she beams down at her plate, then up at me...and lastly to her brother. I see the way her eyes blaze with happiness and the way she bites down on her lip to keep from spilling everything she’s thinking out onto the table in front of us.
I wonder what their conversation was like before I walked up?
Were they talking about me?
Was Shaw telling her about our talk last night?
The evident pride in her eyes when she looks at Shaw tells me they definitely discussed something...and she’s happy about it. I hope that means she’s happy about me and Shaw. Not that I’d have to have her approval, or anyone else’s for that matter, but I’d like it.
“Sorry I interrupted your breakfast,” I murmur, cutting off another bite of pancakes. “I didn’t mean to barge in on your—”
“You didn’t,” Shaw says, cutting me off. “I should’ve called and invited you. I just thought you might have wanted to sleep in, since it’s your day off.”
Our table falls into comfortable silence for a few moments and then conversation strikes back up. Shaw talks about a new hire who’s starting tomorrow. Sarah throws out ideas for winter menu options at the cooking school. Shaw and I both give her our two cents worth on that, offering our services as taste testers. Just the thought of her cooking has my mouth watering, even though I’m still currently inhaling these pancakes, potatoes, and bacon.
The O’Sullivan Special.
I pause for a moment, getting lost in my head as I vaguely listen to Shaw and Sarah talk.
He laughs—openly and freely—and it makes my heart swell.
Sarah reaches across the table and gives him a playful swat.
The two of them are the real special, making me feel so warm and at home...like I belong here, with them. It’s almost more than I can take without crying. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, maybe it’s residual emotions from last night and everything Shaw shared with me, but I have to clear my throat and take a sip of my coffee to keep from tearing up.
Shaw pays the bill, even though I put up a solid argument. I tried to be sly and hand Wyatt my twenty I had stuck in my pocket, but he refused, almost looking scared of the man sitting beside me. I have to laugh at that, because even though Shaw may look dark and ominous, I know that just under that hard exterior is a soft underlayer.
“I’ll see you soon,” Sarah says with a kiss to my cheek as we stand in front of The Crescent Moon. “Shaw, see you in the morning.” She leans in and he kisses her cheek before sliding dark sunglasses over his gorgeous eyes, giving him a very seductive vibe.
Like, I need that.
Letting out a deep breath, partially due to my full stomach and partially due to my overactive libido, I give Shaw a small smile. “Thanks for breakfast.”
He turns to me, taking my hands in his, and pulls me into him, wrapping his strong arms around me. “Thank you for showing up.”
“I swear I wasn’t trying to swindle you out of another free meal,” I tease, leaning into his warmth. The breeze around us is cool, but here in the safety of Shaw’s arms, I feel like I’m nestled in a favorite blanket.
The rumble in his chest is like music to my ears and I lean in even further, absorbing him.
“Do I still get to take you on a date?”
“Sure.” My response is casual, but inside I’m thinking: you can take me anywhere...I’d follow you anywhere. Wherever he is, that’s where I want to be.
“Well, it starts now,” he rumbles, leaning in to capture my lips with his. At first, it’s slow and easy, like he’s testing the waters. When I let out a soft moan, his hold on me tightens and the kiss deepens. With my body flush with his, he parts my lips with a swipe of his tongue. There’s a lingering sweetness from the syrup mixed with hints of coffee and...Shaw. It’s the only way I know to describe the taste because it’s singularly him.
His hand slips down to my hip and curves around to clutch my ass, grabbing it possessively and sending me into a frenzy. When he pulls away with a growl, I feel my lips turn into a pout.
“Unless,” he utters, low and gravelly, “we want to be picked up for indecent exposure, I’m afraid we’re going to have to postpone this until I can get you behind closed doors.”
“Right,” I say, letting out an exasperated laugh as I fall into his chest. It’s crazy what he does to me, how he makes me feel. I’ve never been big on public displays of affection—groping and making out—but I can honestly say had he not put a stop to our endeavors, I would’ve let that kiss go all the way.
The memories of our time together are still so fresh in my mind—vivid flashes of Shaw’s expression when he came inside me flood my mind, making me want...him, everything.
Slow.
Slow.
Slow.
I have to repeat it to myself like an incantation, bringing my body under submission.
The past few days have been exactly what Shaw promised—slow and easy. It’s been filled with everything from the mundane to romantic. He took me grocery shopping for my apartment and to the store to pick up a few pillows. I found a piece of art I loved on the square and he came over and helped me hang it on the wall. We’ve walked the park at night and taken in the Christmas lights, went to a holiday concert at St. Louis Cathedral, and yesterday, after nearly killing ourselves ice skating, we stopped and bought a tree for his house.
He said it’s the first one he’s put up in five years.
The thought made me both sad and happy. It’s sad to think he spent all those years alone on so
many nights. I know he has his family, but they all have their own lives. After being with Lizzie for so many years, he was suddenly alone. The thought makes my chest ache and I snuggle closer to his large frame lying beside me on the couch.
When it was Shaw’s turn to pick a Christmas movie to watch, I was for sure he was going to go with something uber-manly, like Die Hard or maybe Christmas Vacation, but instead, we’re currently watching It’s a Wonderful Life.
I’m kind of afraid to ask him why he loves this movie so much. The main character, George Bailey, is thinking of ending it all, which makes me wonder if Shaw ever thought the same thing.
I see so many similarities between George and Shaw—a man with a good heart who does good deeds but falls on hard times...who gets a second chance.
“If I ever have a dog, I’m gonna name him Clarence,” Shaw mumbles, his voice relaxed and sleepy.
“Clarence,” I repeat, chuckling. “I like it. I’ve always given my animals human names...like Bob and Joe. Back home, on the farm, I have a miniature donkey name Clyde.” I smile, thinking about his short, stumpy legs. “Clyde was also my grandpa’s brother.”
This time, Shaw laughs, shaking my whole body as his chest rumbles. His arms wrap tighter around me. “Was he honored or offended that you named a jackass after him?”
“Well, he passed away a while back, so. . .”
“I’m sorry,” he says, placing a soft kiss to the top of my head. With my eyes on the television, I shake my head in dismay. This man, who’s experienced loss so greatly, is offering me condolences and comfort for someone I wasn’t even that close to and who passed away years ago. I love that about him. I love it so much I want to kiss him and hug him...I want to crawl inside his chest and take up residence, because Shaw is good. He’s the epitome of a good man. Sure, he has flaws, but it’s through the flaws that his strengths shine.
“It was the hair,” I eventually say, my eyes feeling heavy as Clarence grants George’s wish to never be born.
“The hair?” Shaw asks, his words just as slow and detached as his fingers brush lightly up and down my arm.
“Uh huh...my Uncle Clyde had great hair, with this fifties flip in the front,” I murmur. “When my daddy showed up with the donkey, he came trotting out of the trailer with this awesome hair...the same fifties flip.” I chuckle lightly, my exhaustion kicking in and forcing my eyes closed.
An indiscernible amount of time later, I wake to a blank television screen and a hot body wrapped around mine. Glancing up at Shaw, I take in his sleeping form. His beautiful face is relaxed and his dark lashes create half circles under his eyes. The dim light from the lamp casting a warm glow across his features, making him look even more glorious.
I try to look around the living room for a clock or some way to know what time it is. Even though I’ve been cozily sleeping in Shaw’s arms, my back is kind of tight from the position we’ve been laying in and I need to go to the bathroom. Shifting slowly, I try to slide out of his embrace without waking him.
“Where are you going?” he asks groggily, his voice thick with sleep and sounding incredibly sexy.
“Bathroom,” I rasp, turning back to him for a brief second. “And I guess I should go...home.” My words are just as unsure as I feel. Shaw said slow and I don’t know if me sleeping here overnight counts as slow.
“No,” he groans and pulls himself to a sitting position, rubbing his hands down his face, taking in a sharp breath before he yawns. “Stay.”
I’m still standing in the middle of the living room, gauging his suggestion and whether or not he really means it or if he’s maybe talking in his sleep. When he stands from the couch and grabs me by my waist, pulling me into his warm, pliable body. “Stay.”
“Okay.”
With his head bent down into the crook of my neck, I wrap my arms around him and hold him to me. The urgency to use the bathroom taking a back seat to my need for him. After a few moments, he pulls back and just looks at me, his hand coming up to cup my face. We stand there like that, caught in a moment, for what feels like forever. His lips eventually come down to mine, tangling in a soft, slow kiss.
“Bed,” he growls when the kiss turns to more. I feel him pulling back, probably telling himself the same thing I’ve had on repeat for the last week—slow, slow, slow. Turning me to face the stairs, he follows behind me, the hard planes of his chest pressed to my back, while his denim-covered legs walk in tandem with mine.
There is only sleep, but it’s accompanied by our bodies intertwined—my back to his chest, his arm protectively around me, our legs twisted together.
Chapter 30
Shaw
“Avery, you have a visitor.”
I watch confusion cover Avery’s face as she turns to Wyatt. When he uses his thumb to point over his shoulder in my direction, the confusion morphs into the biggest and prettiest smile in the world and I swear, I feel my heart grow. It happens every time she looks at me and you’d think with all the time we’ve been spending together lately, I’d be used to it, but I’m not.
To be honest, I don’t ever want to get used to that feeling. I want it to keep taking my breath away for the rest of my life.
She practically skips over to me and places a quick kiss on my lips. “What are you doing here?”
“I just wanted to stop by and see you before I go pick up some more supplies for the dinner tomorrow night.”
“Oh? What kind of supplies? I thought everything was taken care of.”
“Sarah has decided Santa needs to pass out the gifts at the dinner, so I need to buy a suit for Paulie.”
“Paulie?” She laughs out loud before quickly covering her mouth. “I can’t believe he agreed to be Santa.”
“Well, he doesn’t actually know about it yet, but I’m sure he’ll be fine with it. You know he’ll do anything for Sarah.”
She gives her head a slight shake as she looks up at me. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her to me, unsure of why she’s giving me such a compliment but also not caring, because I just need to feel her and hold her close. “Not sure what I did that’s so amazing, but if it means you’re gonna look at me like that, then I guess I’ll try to do it more often.” Kissing her forehead, I inhale her scent and smile at how the smell of the home cooked, Cajun cuisine from The Crescent Moon mixes perfectly with her natural sweetness.
“Everything. If I started listing all the ways, you’d just get a big head over it.” She laughs lightly, leaning into my embrace and I soak her in, letting her words wash over me and settle into my bones.
“Whatever you say, Ms. Cole.” Leaning in for one more kiss to her forehead, wishing I could take it further, but since we’re standing in the middle of The Crescent Moon, I know I can’t. “Can I see you later?”
“Absolutely,” she says, before biting down on her bottom lip.
I press my mouth to hers in a chaste, yet searing kiss. “Get back to work, you little minx,” I grumble into her hair before finally letting her go.
Avery laughs and walks off, turning to wave at me one last time before heading to one of her tables.
What started off as being a simple dinner for the residents and workers at Charity House has now become a major event. This always tends to happen when my family gets involved.
The O’Sullivans don’t do anything half-assed.
My guys from Come Again will be serving the food and drinks along with me, Sarah, and Avery.
Since we’d went to the trouble of procuring a suit, Sarah insisted that someone play the part. Paulie wouldn’t accept any amount of money I offered, so here I am, wearing a thick, red and white costume that’s making me sweat my ass off. In December. Like we all haven’t had enough of that the other ten months out of the year. Because, let’s face it, New Orleans gets a couple of months of cooler weather, then it’s back to being hotter than balls.
Looking myself over in the long mirror, I scowl, tugging at
the bushy, white beard that’s covering my own, making me want to scratch my face off. After a few un-Santa like mutters under my breath, I walk out of the bedroom I used as a dressing room and down the stairs to the waiting crowd.
The smiles and laughter I receive from everyone as I ho-ho-ho myself to the large living room takes the edge off my irritation, and by the time I’m sitting in the chair by the tree, I’m actually smiling a genuine smile under the garb. It doesn’t hurt that Avery is beaming at me while trying to keep her laughter at bay. The absolute joy from my family and the people I’ve adopted into my family make it all worth it.
I spend half an hour listening to adults turn into children for a few brief moments, sitting on my lap for goofy pictures and telling me what they want for Christmas. I’d love to be able to grant every fucking wish, but I can’t.
I can’t bring families back.
I can’t cure diseases.
I can’t stop the wheels of time.
But for tonight, me and my family, we can bring smiles to these faces and let them know that people care about them and that the entire world hasn’t turned its back on them.
We laugh, we sing, we eat. Through the entire night, Avery is right there in the thick of it. In just the short amount of time she’s been volunteering at the house, she’s made quite the impression on the staff and some of the long-term residents. I watch them smile at her fondly, seeing what I see—warmth, honesty, beauty. She has something about her that attracts people, making them want to be around her.
“So, who’s that?” I overhear one of my new guys, Devon, ask Paulie as we’re cleaning up the tables.
“Avery,” Paulie answers casually. “She used to work at the bar.”
I haven’t been very open about the progression of mine and Avery’s relationship, but Paulie knows we’re in one, so I wait, holding my tongue until I see where this conversation is going. The caveman in me wants to shoot Devon down with a death stare and tell him to not even look at my girl.
