The Job (Auctioned)

by Cara Dee

  “You’re good,” Boone said. “Lights are on straight ahead, but they can’t see us.”

  “Aight, let’s bounce.”

  He sighed heavily and looked back at me. “Are you ever gonna leave the ’90s?”

  I shot him a bitchy look in return and summoned my inner Valley girl. “Talk to the hand.” Then I glanced at Ace and made my way to the back. “Come on, baby. Time to commit a crime.”

  “Yeah. Cuz our faces aren’t listening, Daddy.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder, and Boone couldn’t fight his amusement anymore.

  I stepped out of the van first and set the dog on the ground. The street was dead, which was good. When the rich slept, the cat came out to play.

  “Ewww, it licked me again.” Ace wrinkled her nose and reluctantly accepted the leash. “I’m just…really more of a cat person. They don’t get all up in my business.” She waved a hand in front of her face.

  I grinned at her.

  After closing the door gently, I ushered her up on the sidewalk, and we started our little trek past one architect’s dream after another. The houses all looked different, from older haciendas to modern, box-shaped structures. It was between two of the estates that Boone had kept AJ’s house in sight, and as soon as we rounded a bend, we saw it too.

  “There’s a lesson to be learned here,” I told Ace. “A house says a lot about the people who live there. What can you tell me about the man in that house?” I pointed toward AJ’s estate.

  Ace chewed on her lip and circled the dog’s leash around her wrist. “He lives alone?”

  He did, actually, and her conclusion impressed me. “What makes you think that?”

  “Because it’s gray and boring,” she replied. “When you and Daddy were looking at the photos of the house online, it reminded me of Jen’s dad’s house.” That would be a classmate’s divorced parent. “He’s got pebbles in front of the house instead of flowers, too, like this one. Just some cactus—but a bunch of spotlights. And boys love gadgets.”

  “You’re fucking brilliant, Ace.” I kissed the top of her head, beyond proud. Not even nine years old, and she was so perceptive and aware of her surroundings. “You’re right—it’s a typical millionaire bachelor’s home.” Very modern. Polished steel and black flagstone met straight lines and the definition of minimalism. Two stories, slanted roof, infinity pool in the back, spotlights all over. As we got closer and passed AJ’s neighbor, we got a quick glimpse at the back of the house. Only the pool was illuminated now. I couldn’t see it clearly; there was a fence in the way, but the light shone through. “The problem with millionaire bachelors who love gadgets is that they probably love high security too. That’s why we gotta be careful entering the premises. It wouldn’t surprise me—since it’s not a gated community—if he had motion sensors and camera surveillance.”

  Ace nodded thoughtfully.

  “You ready?” I asked.

  She quirked a brow. “Ready to look like a young child just walking her dog in the middle of the night to come off as incompicuous?” Oh, close enough.

  “You’re not supposed to know that word.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’m ready to be a prop.”

  Good. “For the record, dogs make sense of things. It’s scientifically proven that you’re less suspicious of someone walking a dog. If anyone saw us now, they’d draw the most innocent conclusions. A dad and worried daughter, walking their sick dog. That’s why Daddy and I told you to wear your PJs.” I side-eyed AJ’s car in the driveway, deciding where to put the tracker. “Besides, we’ll have a few errands around this house, so you wanna switch it up a bit. Tonight, it’s you and me walking a dog. Next time, it might be Boone jogging—” I cracked myself up, and Ace giggled too. “Okay, that wouldn’t happen, but you see what I mean? You don’t wanna establish a pattern. People pick up on those.”

  With just a few feet to go, I retrieved the tracker from my pocket and removed the protective film from the sticky underside. Ace took her cue and became a little more invested in the dog, and I discreetly slipped the tracker an inch or so behind the license plate.

  “Yeah, you’re such a good doggy, Daddy,” Ace gushed as she patted the dog’s head. “See what I did there?”

  Yeah, I saw, freaking brat.

  When she turned her head toward the house, I spoke up quickly. “Eyes ahead, baby.”

  “Right.” She straightened again and kept walking. “Now what?”

  “Now we continue walking our sick dog.” I nodded up ahead. “We’ll turn around at the end of the street and come back down on the other side.”

  “And then we return this smelly thing?”

  I chuckled. “I’ll return her tomorrow when you’re struggling to stay awake in school.”

  “I’ll keep a Red Bull in my locker,” she replied flippantly.

  The hell she would. “No, you won’t. What kind of father would I be if I allowed that kind of poison?”

  She squinted up at me. “Do you really wanna go there, Dad?”

  I frowned. What?

  “Love you, sweet pea. Dream of something cool.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead before I made room for Boone to say goodnight.

  “Night,” she yawned.

  I paused in the doorway to her room and watched Boone sit down on the edge of her bed. He was the best at tucking her in, she always said. I was better at story time.

  “You’re sleeping here too, aren’t you?” Ace asked him. “It’s too late for you to leave now.”

  Boone chuckled softly and grabbed her hand. “I can drive in the dark, believe it or not.”

  She wasn’t satisfied with that response. “I’m just sayin’.” Oh boy. “It would make your daughter very happy if her fathers could kiss and make up so we can be a family again someday. And live together.”

  Ouch. That one packed a punch.

  “We are a family, baby,” Boone insisted. “We make our own way, don’t we?”

  She huffed a little and turned onto her side, facing away from him.

  I suppressed a sigh and ran a hand through my hair. Even if everything was good between Boone and me, how were we ever supposed to give her what she wanted? It made perfect sense for her to want her parents living together, but those parents were also brothers in our messy situation.

  One day, Boone was gonna meet someone. Settle down, get married, maybe have another kid. I’d hopefully meet someone too. I just couldn’t see it happening. Nothing that went beyond casual arrangements and short-term relationships. Four years of shoving Boone out of my life hadn’t changed my feelings, so it was difficult to see a future where I got over him.

  “Ace.” Boone put a hand on her shoulder. “Come on, Aisley Paisley. You gonna send me off without a hug?”

  Oh, for chrissakes. “You might as well stay tonight,” I said. “It’s three in the morning.”

  Boone glanced back at me with a fair amount of hesitation written across his features, and he would have to sort that out himself. The dog chose that moment to remind me of her presence, so I left the room and headed for the kitchen.

  “Ace wanted to give you Red Bull,” I told the dog, filling a bowl with water. “Remember that if you wake up and gotta piss. Her room’s open.” To showcase how nice I was, I even grabbed a few slices of turkey from the fridge. “Let’s find you a spot, yeah?”

  With the turkey and water in one hand, I grabbed a blanket from the couch and prepared the corner between the TV unit and the wall to the kitchen. Then I left her alone while she went to town on the turkey, and I threw the couch cushions on the floor and moved the coffee table. It was a good thing I’d bought a big couch so Boone could fit in there with me.

  I sighed at the thought. How many nights had we spent together? How many nights had his brotherly and naturally affectionate personality fucking tortured me? He hadn’t even seen the point in buying two beds when we’d lived together last time. Back then, Ace always ended up in the middle of the bed too. We’d wake up to he
r little feet padding across the floor. She delivered the same lie. Nightmare. Because she’d noticed Boone caved instantly when she’d had a bad dream.

  Once I’d made the bed, I returned to the kitchen and switched on the oven to preheat. Middle of the night or not, I was hungry. Boone could probably eat too, so I grabbed the biggest frozen pizza that fit in my tiny freezer. Pepperoni and extra cheese with stuffed crust, fuck yeah. And a Pop-Tart or two while I waited.

  When Boone emerged from Ace’s room, I was trying to decide what flavor Pop-Tart I wanted. I had an entire cabinet just for them. Granted, it was a narrow corner cabinet, but I was still proud of my collection.

  “I’m making pizza,” I mentioned.

  “If Pop-Tart came out with a pepperoni version, I ain’t callin’ it pizza.”

  I laughed and picked out the box with cinnamon roll flavor. “This is just as we wait. Want one?”

  “Sure. Got any s’more flavored?”

  “Got any s’more flavored,” I scoffed. “Of-fucking-course I do. I keep blueberry around too.” It was his favorite. I thought it tasted like medicine.

  “If I say I’m flattered and a little touched, you’re just gonna ruin it,” he said.

  I would never.

  “It’s no secret that you’re a little touched, big brother.” I popped the pastries, two of each, into the toaster, then turned around and leaned back against the counter.

  He smirked wryly and leaned against the doorframe.

  “Did you turn Ace’s frown upside down?” I wondered.

  He nodded with a dip of his chin. “Crisis averted.”

  “For now.” Because this would come back at some point. “We’ll have to talk to her sooner or later.”

  “We?” He hitched a brow. “How about you have that conversation with her? I was happy with us livin’ together.”

  I frowned, both confused and annoyed. For one, he couldn’t honestly see us sharing a home as a long-term solution. For two… “Why do you sound like a bitter ex?”

  “Why do I feel like one?” He shrugged.

  “Fuck if I know.” I’d throw my arms out in frustration if I wouldn’t hit them against the oven and the sink. My kitchen wasn’t big. “At least with an ex, I’d have some memories of good sex to keep me goin’.”

  He snorted and folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t know what to tell you. I thought we were on the same page. We were gonna work our asses off to get outta that shitty apartment and buy a house or something.”

  I swallowed uneasily. It was messed up how perfectly our dreams could align—and yet be worlds apart. “Sounds great and all,” I muttered. “Until you find the woman you wanna start your own family with.”

  He let out a laugh. “Why do you sound like a bitter ex, Case?”

  Because I fucking felt like one.

  The Pop-Tarts saved me from responding, and I plated them before I told him to take them to the living room. I needed a minute. It was already becoming too much. Teaming up for gigs brought us so close, partly because we worked weird hours that often left us with long nights where we had nothing to do but shoot the shit, eat, talk about Ace, and just be with each other. And I wasn’t sure I could go down that road again. Last time I’d cut all ties, I’d spent a week at the bottom of a bottle, and my anger had led me to take unnecessary risks at work. I’d stopped giving a fuck, which was dangerous. If I landed my ass in jail again and couldn’t see my daughter, Jesus Christ, my life would be over.

  “What kind of fucking pullout couch is this? It’s comfier than most beds I’ve slept in.”

  I smirked to myself and placed the pizza in the oven. “The good kind that costs you two grand. Well, if you pay for it.” After grabbing two sodas from the fridge, I left the kitchen for now. “Don’t get crumbs in it, I fucking swear.”

  He was busy feelin’ up my mattress. It was thick, solid, part memory foam, part soft like clouds.

  “Figures…” An ounce of the bitterness seeped back. “First man I have in my new bed is my goddamn brother.”

  He flashed me a grin at that, a happy, pleased one that reached his eyes. Shit, I hadn’t seen him smile like that in years. It was a slap in the face in a way, because I was more convinced than ever that he was suffering from some kind of depression.

  I stripped off my jeans and pulled my tee over my head, then got in on the other side and reached for the remote on my nightstand. “Gimme my Pop-Tarts, and I will give you a couple episodes of The Nanny.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll never get your obsession with the ’90s. You know we have good shows now, too?”

  They weren’t bad nowadays, but they were no Blossom quality either.

  I knew Boone and Ace had their own thing of watching DC and Marvel movies. He was her Joker; she was his Harley Quinn.

  “I do watch new movies,” I said in my defense. “I don’t know. The ’90s were just so…wholesome. Every comedy show is feel-good.”

  “You’re the least wholesome guy I know, Case.”

  I quirked a smirk and bit into my Pop-Tart. “Maybe that’s why I love it.”

  We all needed balance, didn’t we?

  Fucking hell, it was hot today.

  As soon as Vegas bathed in triple digits, my systems started shutting down, and I craved air conditioning like some common tourist who’d never seen the sun.

  I wiped my forehead and adjusted my shades, then glanced at the time. Any minute now. Taking a sip of my iced coffee, I eyed the woman in my rearview and hoped she didn’t push my buttons today. Every motherfucking week I had Ace, I somehow ended up right in front of or behind the same woman. She had two boys to pick up and a schedule that probably had her crunching Valium like mad. Soccer, track, PTA, bake sales, golf, the whole nine yards. And if I didn’t move my car in the pickup line exactly when the car ahead of me pulled forward, she honked at me.

  My phone buzzed with a text, and I picked it up to see a message from Laney.

  You got mail and a delivery. xxx

  Fuck yeah. I was quick to text back.

  I owe you dinner. Any place you want.

  A message from Boone appeared before I could put down my phone again.

  I returned the van and got the blueprints in a file. Want me to wait at Ma’s?

  “Hi, Daddy!” I heard Ace holler. I looked up at her quickly and saw I had a few seconds to spare as she ran toward my car, so I typed out a reply to Boone.

  Picking up Ace now, gonna drop her off at Emma’s. Go to my place and wait for me.

  “Hey, baby.” I tucked away my phone and reached over to open the door for her. “How was school?”

  She didn’t look tired at all, despite having been up so late last night. “It was good. Can you help me with my math assimament later?”

  “Of course. I’ll help you with your math assignment.”

  “That’s what I said,” she griped.

  I stifled my mirth and peered ahead, then started the engine and backed up for as much as I could. The woman with her hawk eyes in the rearview perked up and waited for me to hit her or something, to which I flipped her off without looking back. With enough room, I was able to pull out and fuck off. AC on high.

  “You eating at Emma’s house?” I asked.

  “I think so,” she replied. “Her mom met someone who tries to impress her with a bunch of food.”

  “Hey, it works for Boone.” I checked the rearview and switched lanes.

  Ace laughed. “It’s a chef! Emma says he comes over and cooks and stuff.”

  All right, then. Good for Emma’s mom. Bella deserved it. Emma was the one friend of Ace’s I really liked. They’d met a couple years ago when it was time for Ace to learn how to swim. The two were thick as thieves and shared similar personalities. The fact that they lived across town from each other hadn’t stopped them from turning into best friends and hanging out as often as they could. It helped that Bella was a down-to-earth, balls-to-the-wall woman who took no prisoners. Whatever game Vegas threw at her, s
he changed the rules.

  “Are you and Daddy working again tonight?” Ace asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. No fun excursions, though. We’ll be at home.”

  “Oh, poo. Fun escortions are fun.”

  I chuckled. “Excursions.”

  “That’s what I said!”

  Five

  I had to do something about this obsessive need to check in with him. He was just at the store, for chrissakes.

  He was noticing something was wrong too, wasn’t he?

  Fuck! There had to be something wrong with me. My jumbled thoughts threw fragments of solutions at me—that I wasn’t sure were actual solutions. I was getting desperate. I couldn’t meet anyone. Everything gave me doubts. It’d started when Paisley announced that she liked Case’s new nickname for her. Ace. She wanted that to be her name. Then she’d stammered a little and asked what nicknames Case and I wanted, and we’d already known where that was going, because we’d told her we viewed her as ours. Our little champion, our daughter. And the moment she’d called us her dads, everything outside my family had just faded away. Women, even friends—everyone stopped mattering to me. But my urgency to be closer to Case grew tenfold. As if Paisley had opened up a new world with two words. Dad. Daddy.

  Case was gonna get sick of me, though. He was already on edge these days, and I could see the signs because that used to be me. When ex-girlfriends had started getting clingy, I’d pulled away, feeling suffocated. Now I was doing the exact same shit with my own brother.

  Except, I wasn’t gay or anything. That was clear. I didn’t eye men the way Case did.

  The tension built up within me until my stomach hurt, and it wasn’t released until I heard Case turning the key in the door.

  He was home.

  I exhaled.

  Tonight, we were celebrating our daughter’s fourth birthday.

  The moment I walked through the door, three things struck me at once. Boone had tidied up and stowed away the bed, something from the kitchen smelled like pizza, and he was in the shower.