Lover Boy

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  “I crossed a line last night. I shouldn’t have kissed you. That was inappropriate.”

  Her brows furrow and she gives me a sympathizing look. “It was just a kiss, Leo. What? You think I’m all torn up over a little kiss?”

  Well, that response is not what I was expecting. Tilting my head, I examine her again. Her features are schooled in impassive confidence. Her shoulders are back. Her head held high. Shit—I misread her.

  “I’m sorry,” I begin. “I thought…”

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to develop some weird complex because we kissed. We’re both adults here.” She taps my hand patronizingly. “We got a little carried away. That’s all.”

  My ego takes a hit as I realize that the kiss that kept me up all night didn’t mean anything to her. It didn’t affect her one bit.

  “So, I’ve been overthinking this?”

  One corner of her mouth tilts up. “Absolutely. I’m so over it. Let’s just move on.” At her words, I feel a sharp pinch in my chest. I was sure that she’d felt something when I kissed her. The way her body had keened toward me. The way she’d locked her fingers in my hair. The way she’d groaned against my lips. But I won’t push the issue and make an even bigger ass of myself.

  Instead of debating with her, I nod my head in agreement. “Yeah, let’s just move on.”

  Her chest hitches and her eyes widen slightly as they lock on something over my shoulder. I feel someone approaching.

  Charlie pops up over my shoulder. “The service here sucks!” he gripes, cutting his eyes at his little sister.

  “Sorry, we don’t pander to rude non-paying customers,” she jabs right back.

  He gives me a rough squeeze on the shoulder. “Let’s get out of here. Sophia and Josh are coming by the worksite again after lunch so we’ve gotta get back down there and pretend that we’re working hard.”

  Reese hands Charlie his cupcake and places two takeout cups of iced tea on the counter between us. Charlie grabs his drink and strides toward the door. “Later, kid,” he calls out to his sister.

  I reach into my pocket and slip out my wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

  She waves me off. “It’s on the house.”

  “Leo—let’s go!” Charlie calls impatiently from the door.

  My attention stays on the petite baker. “Reese…”

  “No,” she insists. “Your money’s no good here.”

  Sighing roughly, I yank a twenty out of my wallet and slide it into her tip jar. She glares at me as I walk toward the exit.

  But there’s something more in her eyes. That’s desire, isn’t it? I swear—that’s desire.

  I let it go. I’ve already made enough mistaken assumptions for one day.

  Chapter 16

  Leo

  Thirty-one…Thirty-two…Thirty-three…

  Sweat pours down my forehead and the muscles in my torso tighten as I effortlessly raise my upper body into a sitting position. I pause for a breath, just one second of reprieve. Then with both hands cupping the back of my head, I lower to the floor again and the muscles relax.

  My body is used to the pain, my muscles crave the burn. After being in the military for so long, I need a grueling regime that keeps me strong and ready. It keeps my demons at bay. Without it, I feel vulnerable. And I can’t afford to feel vulnerable.

  Thirty-four…Thirty-five…

  The basement is cold. The cement walls are unfinished and covered in cobwebs. I’m sure if I stay down here long enough, some rodent will scamper by, searching for food. It doesn’t matter, though. This damp floor is the lap of luxury compared to the places I’ve been.

  Thirty-six…Thirty-sev—

  My eyes flutter shut and I see Charlie’s face. Bruised and battered, blood dripping from his chin. One eye swollen shut. I hear Archibald screaming at me to get back. I see Johnson’s lifeless body facedown in the dirt—

  My phone rings on the concrete next to me. I jolt. There are still certain things about civilian life that take me off guard and cause all the alarm bells to sound. A ringing phone is one of them.

  I drop onto my back and grab the phone, checking the number on the screen. I don’t recognize it but that’s not surprising. The only people who have my phone number are Charlie and Brent’s preschool. I contemplate letting the call go to voicemail, but my gut tells me to answer it.

  My gut is usually right.

  “Hello.”

  A deep laugh rumbles through the speaker. “Holy shit! It’s actually true!”

  I chuff, recognizing that voice immediately. Speak of the devil…“What’s true?”

  “They let you out into the general population,” he snorts. “They must not know that you’re a fucking lunatic!”

  I almost laugh, too. Almost. “Takes a lunatic to know a lunatic, my friend.”

  Goddamn Archibald Jones. Never takes anything seriously. He was always able to find the silver lining when everyone else could only see mushroom clouds and wreckage and misery. That was his gift out in the jungle. Injecting just enough levity to keep the rest of us from going insane.

  “When Charlie told me that you were in Copper Heights, Illinois, working for his construction company, I thought he was pulling my leg. But it’s true, isn’t it?”

  “It’s true,” I confess as I wipe sweat from my brow with my t-shirt.

  His voice grows somber in a rare moment of seriousness. “So, I’m guessing the other bit is true, too? The bit about Mara? She left you with the kid?”

  I sigh heavily at the mention of my son’s mother, the woman who no longer wants to be in our lives. Now, she’s gone and I’m left on my own trying to navigate the life we were supposed to live together.

  “Yeah,” I say solemnly. “Mara’s gone.”

  Archie whistles under his breath. “She was never a good woman, Montgomery. We tried telling you that.”

  “Did ya really?” I say snarkily. My team had hinted at it over the years, I guess, but no one would dare come straight out and tell me that my wife was a bitch. I wish I had seen that on my own.

  “Chin up, Buttercup. You’ll find somebody,” he says encouragingly. “In time.”

  A scoff is my only response.

  I hear the playfulness in his voice when he speaks again. “Charlie’s got two sisters in town, doesn’t he?”

  I grunt. “Don’t even joke about that.”

  Laughter pelts out of Archie’s mouth. “When I spoke to him just now he said that he’d break your balls if you got anywhere near them but you could take Charlie and we all know it.”

  He’s right. I know I could kick Charlie’s ass. But I really don’t want it to have to come to that. I value his friendship and I’d rather not rock the proverbial boat.

  Archie’s cackling peters off. “You aren’t laughing,” he observes suspiciously. There’s a drawn out pause as he puts the pieces together. “You aren’t messing around with one of his sisters, are you?”

  Fuck. “Look—it’s not ‘messing around’, okay? It was just one kiss.”

  His groan rolls through the phone like thunder. “Bro…”

  The guilt pulsing through me becomes a second heartbeat. I have every reason to feel bad.

  It was a very simple rule. It was right there on Moses’s scroll. Etched in stone. The eleventh commandment—thou shalt not mess around with thy best friend’s little sister. I broke that rule.

  “It was one kiss. It won’t happen again.” I make the promise more to myself than to him. It’s true. There won’t be any more kissing.

  The kiss left me completely discombobulated but it didn’t affect Reese one bit. Can’t say it didn’t sting, though.

  What’s her deal? Do I have bad breath? Did I use too much tongue? Yeah, I’m sure that’s it—too much tongue.

  To hammer the point home, I add. “Besides, she’s my damn babysitter. I can’t be carrying on with my babysitter.”

  “If she’s legal, it’s not a crime.”

  “That’s no
t helpful, man. Not at all.”

  Archie sighs in resignation after another long silence. “Man, if you’re having a good time with the girl, don’t let Charlie cock-block. Get your dick wet. Live a little.”

  “It’s not even like that, Archibald. It was a mistake. A one-time thing. I don’t have the time or the interest to get involved with a woman right now. My focus is my son. Making sure he adjusts to this new life we’re living.”

  My body aches for one woman’s attention. For her kiss and her curves and her warmth. But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust anyone with my heart again. Not even sweet, innocent Reese. And more importantly, I don’t have room in my life for a woman. Brent is my focus. My only focus.

  My friend chuffs dismissively. “Don’t puss out, Montgomery. If you’re happy, your kid’ll be happy. It’s that simple.”

  “So, you’ve got a degree in child psychology now or something?” I chuckle snidely.

  “It’s just common sense,” he says in a serious tone. “You’re not doing the people around you any favors when you’re moping all the damn time.”

  I hate the way his words resonate with me. It feels like he might actually be right. I don’t want that to be the case. Needing to move the conversation away from this territory, I change the subject. “Enough about me. What are you up to, man?”

  The grin in his voice travels over the line. “Just got back from another tour. Alive and well and ready to make the most of it.”

  I lean an elbow against the cold concrete. “What exactly does that mean?”

  “It means that I jumped in my dad’s old Chevy and I’m riding around this country from city to city, living my life to the fullest.”

  “Before you head back for another tour?”

  “You know it. That thing is in my blood, man. I need to be out there. Desert. Jungle. It doesn’t matter. I’ve got to be doing what needs to be done to defend our great country.”

  He can’t see me but I nod in understanding. That sense of duty is what propelled me into the service in the first place but now that Mara has bailed on our family, my duty is to my son.

  Brent comes first.

  He always comes first.

  “Don’t leave before you call me again,” I tell Archie.

  “Sure thing. And if you need to reach me, you can call this number. Any time of day. All right?”

  “All right.”

  “And Leo?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Get your dick wet.”

  On those words of wisdom, he hangs up.

  Chapter 17

  Reese

  “Martha Booker ordered a wedding cake from us?” Vivian’s voice booms into the kitchen and the click of her three-inch pumps echoes through the room.

  “Uh-huh…” is all I offer as I squeeze the peanut butter frosting over the top of the jelly-filled cupcake sitting on the counter in front of me.

  “Martha Booker is getting married?” I hear the very distinct waiver in her voice.

  Struggling not to roll my eyes, I carefully set the cupcake on the serving tray and move on to the next one. “Yup, she’s getting married. That’s why she ordered a wedding cake,” I quip.

  That ticks my sister off. “Okay, you really need to not be snarky right now, Theresa!”

  Vivian’s biological clock ticks louder than the water-resistant analog watch on my wrist informing me that it’s 7:45 in the morning. The bakery opens in fifteen minutes. I’m running behind and I don’t have time for this conversation. And more importantly, I shouldn’t have to deal with my older sister yet. She doesn’t need to be here until 11:00, right before the lunch rush. But, as usual, she’s here several hours early to be a pain in the butt. Viv makes the bakery the center of her universe…when she isn’t obsessing over the fact that she’s still not married.

  Today, her pestering is particularly unwelcome because I’m still thinking about Leo. Ever since he kissed me, this crush has morphed into a monster.

  The taste of his lips still lingers in my mind. The feel of his large hands is imprinted on my skin. And yesterday, I opened up my big, stupid mouth and told him that I don’t want him.

  That couldn’t be further from the truth.

  I want him. More than I’ve ever wanted any man. I want to taste those lips again. I want to taste every tight, tanned, paint-speckled inch of his skin. But I know that’d only be trouble. That’s why I brushed him off yesterday.

  My sister is still glaring at the side of my head.

  Ugh! Not today. Please.

  Vivian falls apart every time she learns that one of the girls she went to school with is engaged or having a baby. Her 30th birthday is peaking its head around the corner, and every now and then, it jumps out and spooks her.

  “Martha Booker used to pick her pimples to the point that they were bleeding. In the middle of Geography class! And she’s getting married…” My sister’s voice trails off and I hear her ask the silent question that’s always on the tip of her tongue; What’s wrong with me?

  I set down the icing tube and turn to face her. She stands in front of me with glassy eyes, wearing her pearl earrings and pale pink floral dress, cinched tight at the waist. She looks like the ultimate 1950s housewife, as usual. “Viv, it’s not a contest,” I say softly. “You’ll meet someone. When the time is right.”

  She huffs. “I’m not jealous. Please! I feel sorry for whoever would marry Martha Booker. The guy must be a real lemon.” Before I can respond, she changes the topic. “Did you work on that sales report I asked you for?”

  “I haven’t had time,” I say. My mind immediately swerves to what I ended up doing the last time I sat down to prepare that report. The memory of Leo’s kiss invades my senses. I feel light-headed.

  “Well, did you at least read the Bakery Customer Trend Research Paper that I emailed to you last week?” Her tone is decidedly judgy.

  I lift a shoulder and let it fall. “No time.”

  She folds her arms across her chest and exhales heavily. “Reese, if you want to be a partner in this business, you’re gonna have to start acting like one.”

  Am I really your partner, Vivian? ‘Cause you kinda sorta act like I’m your little bitch.

  She throws her arms up exasperatedly. “Man—I ask you to do the most basic thing and you have to drag your feet.”

  I sigh roughly and glance at my watch. 7:52. She’s really killing my vibe right now. “Viv, let’s not do this…”

  “I need you to step up, Theresa. I have a lot on my plate and sometimes, you’re no help.”

  “That’s not fair—”

  She won’t hear me out. Instead, she starts counting off items on her fingers. “The health inspector’s coming by for a kitchen inspection next week. The fire department sent a letter claiming we’re not up to code. The permit office is holding up our terrace permit for some reason. There’s a lot on my plate.”

  “Viv, I understand that you have a lot on your plate. But so do I. I start work at 4 in the morning. I’m on my feet all day. Then, I have to rush out of here to get Brenton from school and he usually wants to go to the park for a few minutes. Then, I take him home, cook for him, bathe him—”

  Vivian interrupts me. “Wait—who’s Brenton?”

  “The kid who lives next door to me. It’s just him and his dad, Charlie’s friend, Leo.” I say it matter-of-factly. Total indifference. Nonchalance. No big deal.

  She looks utterly baffled. “Why are you babysitting the kid who lives next door to you? Do you have the hots for his dad?” She plants one hand on her hip and watches me suspiciously.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Viv. I do not have the hots for Leo.” My stomach tightens on the lie. “I’m just being a good neighbor. Lending a helping hand. The guy is going through a divorce and he’s obviously overwhelmed so I’m helping out.”

  Her disbelieving expression deepens. “Seems like a big responsibility to take on out of the goodness of your heart.”

  “Well, Charlie thi
nks it’s a good idea.” My voice is all high-pitched and defensive.

  She rolls her eyes. “Then maybe you should ask Charlie to do the sales report since his opinions are getting in the way of you doing your job.”

  I throw my head back and groan. My sister is infuriating. “Look—Viv, I’ll do the damn report, okay? If that’s what it takes to get you off my back. But I really, really think we should hire some help.”

  “We can’t afford to hire help.”

  “I’m sure if we looked at our budget, we could squeeze it in somehow. We’re burning ourselves out.”

  She gives me a hard look but instead of arguing, she twirls around causing the full skirt of her dress to twirl like a petulant ballerina. She stomps in the direction of the office. Her steps halt in the doorway and she glances at me over her shoulder. “You sure nothing’s going on between you and your neighbor?”

  I lie again. “Nothing’s going on.”

  She inspects my face for a solid ten seconds. Then her eyes go round and panicked eyebrows lift high on her forehead. “I swear to god—if I find out you’re getting married before me, I’m going to murder you.”

  I wince hard as she continues her procession into the office and slams the door behind her.

  Chapter 18

  Leo

  “Daddy, you know what Reese told me?” Brenton’s dark eyes gleam excitedly as he peers up at me.

  Just the mention of that girl’s name and I feel sparks under my skin. Pulling in a deep breath, I maintain my neutral demeanor.

  I look down at my son and smile. “What did Reese tell you?”

  “She told me that black bears sleep aaallll winter long!” He stretches the word out and spreads his arms wide.

  “Uh-huh?” I say as I pull his too-tight dinosaur pajamas over his head and down over his belly. Shit, I still haven’t made time to take him shopping. I really need to get on that. I won’t let him be that kid in school who everyone laughs at because his pants only get to his ankles.

  “Yeah! And Reese said that black bears even know how to swim. Isn’t that cool?”

  I crouch down in front of him and use my fingers to brush his hair out of his face. “Very cool, buddy.”