by M. E. Carter
“I’ve had dreams about this,” Paul whispers as he places gentle kisses down to my collarbone. “You, underneath me, your long legs wrapped around me.”
“I’ve had the same dreams,” I admit, running my fingers through his hair again, holding him close. “Why didn’t you do anything about it?”
He pulls back just enough to make eye contact. “I never want you to feel like I’m taking advantage of you. I’m your boss but that doesn’t mean you don’t hold the power. If this isn’t something you want, just say the word.”
I pull his mouth back to mine and answer him with my kiss.
We take our time removing each other’s clothing and exploring the skin we find underneath. Paul is lean and muscular. Not bulky like the friends in my life, but strong from hard work and manual labor. He’s gentle and reverent, as only a man who has experience can be, worshiping every inch of my body. When he nips at the inside of my elbow, I gasp.
“Did I just find a sensitive spot?” he asks with an amused chuckle before biting gently at it again.
I gasp for the second time. “I didn’t know that was there. No one’s ever kissed me so thoroughly.”
A growl rumbles up from his throat. “Their loss. You taste like honey.”
I can’t help the small giggle that bursts out of me. “You mean I taste like hops. I’ve been slinging drinks all night.”
“Semantics.”
There’s no more talking after that. No words are necessary as I run my hands over his skin, and he tastes my nipples. When we’re fully naked and he finally hooks one of my knees over his arm and pushes into me, it feels like coming home.
The thought is fleeting as we push and pull, groan and moan, thrust and grind, taking from each other and giving just as much in return. And when we reach our climax together, I know I’m ruined for anyone else. No one will ever make me feel this way—loved, cared for, desired.
Coming down from the high, our breathing evening out, Paul pulls out of me slowly and settles me on his lap. His gentle kisses are exactly what my battered heart needs in this moment. There will never be another man who makes me feel like Paul does. My boss, my friend, my lover—he’s it for me. He’s it for us.
“Why don’t you sleep in my bed tonight?”
I pull back to look at his handsome face, wishing he could come snuggle with me, but knowing it wouldn’t be appropriate with Carson in that same bed. I nod in agreement, even though my heart wants to stay right here on the couch with him.
“Thank you.”
“I should be saying the same to you.”
Smiling shyly, he leans in and takes my lips one more time. It’s a goodnight kiss, but I hope it’s also the beginning of something more.
I finally push off his lap and grab my shirt off the floor, throwing it and my panties on quickly before heading toward bed.
Turning as I enter the room, I look back at him. “You’re a really amazing man, Paul.”
He stops getting dressed as I speak, hopefully absorbing the words I can’t seem to stop from saying.
“And not just because of your bedroom skills. But just because you’re you. Anyway… goodnight.”
“Goodnight Kiersten.”
I don’t look back this time, having said everything I needed to say. Instead, I climb onto the mattress and snuggle next to my son. The bed smells like musk and detergent and man. It’s going to be hard to fall asleep surrounded by the scent of the one I like so much.
Until suddenly, I just drift.
TWENTY-ONE
Paul
It’s been five hours since I was inside Kiersten and I can’t stop thinking about it. It was… she was more than I ever imagined. Feeling her skin on mine, the gentle thrum of her pulse under my lips when I kissed her neck, her slickness as I thrust in and out of her—it’s a memory I want to keep in the forefront of my mind. I don’t remember ever feeling so complete. Like I was home. But that’s how she made me feel. Truthfully, it’s how she always makes me feel, it was just on a much larger scale when we were naked.
I had no intention of jumping Kiersten last night. I tried to stay solidly within the boundaries I had set, but when she woke me up, looking a little rough around the edges from a long night of work, I couldn’t stop myself. Honestly, I didn’t want to. She was so beautiful and so excited for the bar’s success, it was easy to get caught up in the moment. Or maybe that’s just my excuse to myself.
The most difficult part of it all is, I like Kiersten. And I’m not even sure like is the right word for how I feel. Kiersten is the total package of everything I’ve always wanted in a woman. She’s smart and witty and charming. She’s beautiful on and off the dance floor. But she doesn’t come alone. She’s a package deal, kind of like I am. The difference is I come with a floundering business while she comes with an amazing child, and neither of those things is complimentary to the other.
That child is why I offered for Kiersten to stay over. I really was worried he’d wake up and refuse to go back to sleep. In hindsight, maybe I should have thought about the morning after. I hope it isn’t going to be awkward. We probably need to have a hard conversation to make sure we’re both on the same page. That page being it can never happen again.
And Carson will probably be hungry during that talk, so pancakes it is. Well, that and because he’s just a great kid. Babysitting was more fun than I thought it would be. Carson has a wicked sense of humor for a three-year-old and I found myself laughing a lot at his antics. He also has more energy than I expected. After watching him throw away trash for a solid half-hour, I should have figured he’d keep going until he dropped.
I’m in the middle of making a batch when Carson comes running into the room yelling, “Paw! Paw?”
He obviously can’t see me from the other side of the island, but I can see him, standing still and looking around. It’s amusing to watch him listen for some clue as to where I am when all he has to do is look up to see me.
“Paw?” he yells again, only this time Kiersten is behind him trying to shush him so I finally give.
“I’m right here, buddy.”
Finally looking in the right direction, Carson sees me, his eyes lighting up as he yells, “Paw!” and runs over to hug my leg. It’s weird how that one simple act makes a jolt of happiness run through me. No wonder everyone loves this kid so much. Baby hugs automatically make you feel happy.
Kiersten meanders in behind him with her bed head and smudged makeup. Damn she’s beautiful. I wish life circumstances were different. But failure isn’t an option and that’s what will happen if we continue with this romance and it’s not just me who stands to lose a lot.
“What are you doing?”
“Making breakfast. I figured this guy…” I pick Carson up and squeeze his side making him giggle, “would be hungry and this is the only thing I really know how to make that doesn’t require a deep fryer or grill.”
“That’s really thoughtful of you, thank you.” Kiersten settles on one of the small stools in front of me. “Did you sleep okay? I feel bad you got the couch.”
“Nah. It was no big deal. I’ve slept on the couch in the office more times than I can count. This was still better.”
She grimaces. “That lumpy old thing that smells like socks?”
I scoff. “It doesn’t smell that bad.”
“You may need to get those olfactory senses checked out because yes, yes it does. Why do you think I always opt for the plastic chair?”
I think back to the multiple times she, Tammy, and even my former bartender Desiree have been in my office and she’s right—they never sit on the couch.
“And here I thought you were just a hard worker and didn’t want to get too comfortable.”
“Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what I meant. Hard worker. Mm-hmm.” She smirks and I can’t help how much I enjoy having this small moment together. Her, rumpled from sleep. Me, dutifully making breakfast. Carson, hard at work with a puzzle. For the first time maybe ever, I ca
n see this for my future and I want it. I want it so much it scares me.
“Since Carson is entertained and I’m still making breakfast, why don’t you go get cleaned up?” I point to a box in the corner with the spatula I’m holding. “There are a bunch of extra work shirts in there if you want to grab one. I don’t think I have any shorts that’ll fit you but at least you’ll have a clean shirt.”
“Thanks, Paul.” She begins riffling through the box, presumably to find her size. I wish I had my own oversized shirts in there. Seeing her in nothing but a giant-sized t-shirt would be quite the sight to see. Instead, I remind myself what happened last night was a one-time thing. I don’t have the right to see her intimately now that the moment has passed.
Flipping her hair around to get it out of her face, Kiersten continues with her dig. “I can’t imagine how I must look since I didn’t shower before bed.”
“You look beautiful.”
The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. A blush covers Kiersten’s face and I want to kick myself for making things awkward. They were starting out so well.
She clears her throat and sets the box aside. “I’m uh…” she gestures over her shoulder with her thumb. “Just gonna shower.”
“Take your time. Extra towels are under the sink.”
She nods and turns to Carson, kissing him on top of the head before disappearing into the small bathroom.
It only takes a couple of minutes to finish making pancakes. Unfortunately, I only have the counter to sit at, and I don’t want Carson to fall off a barstool. Coffee table it is.
I bring two plates, one for each of us, and settle on the floor, stretching out my legs in front of me. Carson immediately climbs onto my lap like he’s known me forever. Truthfully, I feel the same way. There’s just something about this kid that draws me in and makes me want to take care of him all the time.
Kissing him on the top of the head, I can’t help feeling bad his dad and grandparents are missing this. I know those people are major assholes, but they truly are the losers in this situation.
I mean, who wouldn’t enjoy trying to get this kid dressed and watching him run around with some Paw Patrol underwear on his head before I can finally wrangle him into his clothes? I am quickly learning there is not a dull moment with this kid around.
“Oh, wow. You got dressed, buddy?”
I run my fingers through my probably disheveled hair and huff a deep breath. “That was more exercise than I’ve done in a while. Good thing he had more than one pair of clean underwear in that bag. He wore the first pair on his head while I got him changed.”
Kiersten smirks and begins picking up the dirty clothes I haven’t gotten to yet. “He thinks it’s funny.”
“Oh, it was. I just didn’t want a naked baby butt all over my couch. I had my head there last night and probably will again at some point.”
She giggles and once again I’m hit with how much I wish this was our morning normal.
“There’s more pancakes on the counter if you’re hungry.”
“I appreciate it but we actually have an appointment this morning.” She zips the bag closed and begins gathering puzzle pieces. “I know you do direct deposits for us but do you happen to have a paycheck stub? Or the last two?”
I furrow my brow at the odd request. “Yeah sure. They’re in the office. Everything okay?”
She smiles brightly and nods. “Fine. Carson has a WIC appointment this morning and I need proof of income.”
“What’s WIC?” I feel like I’ve heard of it before but I never really paid attention.
“It’s just a program that provides a small amount of food for Carson. Milk, cheese, eggs, things like that.”
I can feel my hackles rise. I had no idea things were that bad for them financially. “Are you okay?” I immediately ask. “Do you need money for food? You work so hard, I’m more than happy to help.”
Her chin drops as she fights to keep a smile off her face, cheeks pinkening. I already know she’s about to turn me down. “No, really. We’re okay. Our situation isn’t unusual. Lots of single moms get WIC to help supplement. It’s just the way it goes sometimes.”
“Oh man Kiersten, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. My story is mild compared to some of them. You’d be shocked what some single moms go through trying to provide for their kids. I have a great job and great friends. And I have you.”
I break away my gaze, clearing my throat. We need to have this conversation, I just hate that it has to happen at all. “Um, about last night.”
She holds her hand up to stop me. “It’s okay. I know it was… unexpected. I don’t plan to start telling everyone or whatever. That would be weird at work. Plus, I don’t even know what this is anymore.”
The look on her face is so hopeful. I can’t string her along. I can’t make her think we can be anything more than what we are. Instead, I blurt out the first words that come to my head.
“Kiersten, I’m not interested in dating you.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know I’ve made a mistake. It’s not at all how I feel, but even worse, it looks like I’ve just slapped her. I grimace. “Dammit, that’s not what I mean.”
She blinks a few times. “Well, what do you mean?”
I try to come up with a way to explain everything I feel about her and why it grieves me to have only one night together. But how do I put the depth of what I feel into words? How can I possibly explain how much is on the line should it all go wrong? I have to try, though.
“You’re my employee.” She narrows her eyes at my shoddy explanation so I keep going. “Crossing those boundaries reflects badly on my business. It reflects badly on me. At some point, it could reflect badly on you, too. I don’t want to hurt any of us.”
Her chest heaves as she visibly tries to quell her anger. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you offered to babysit my son and brought him into this mess.”
“That’s different.” I scramble to my feet, hoping to diffuse the situation. I knew my honesty would hurt, but I don’t think I’m expressing myself in the right way either. I don’t think she’s understanding my motivation isn’t about her. It’s about protecting all of us.
“How?” She throws her arms out in frustration. “How is you building a relationship with the son of a single mom different? It could still lead to boundary issues, right? Hell, he’s already attached to you. You don’t think that’s a problem?”
I hang my head. She’s right. “Shit Kiersten, I’m sorry. I don’t mean it to sound like I’m rejecting you or him. I’m not. I like both of you, so much. And I wish it could be different. But it can’t.”
Failure is not an option.
She takes a calming breath before speaking again. “Paul, I like you. Too much, probably. I like the way you run your bar. I like the way you take care of people. But this,” she points back and forth between the two of us, and then between Carson and I. “This isn’t okay. I won’t be anyone’s side piece when you’re in the mood and I won’t be a dirty little secret. And I certainly won’t make him a dirty little secret. Ever.”
My eyes widen in shock. “That’s not—”
She holds up her hand again and I stop, knowing it’s probably better to hold my tongue until I can figure out the right words to say.
“Come on, sweet boy.” She grabs the bag and tosses the strap over her shoulder. “We have to go play.”
“Go pay?” Carson asks, looking up from the last of his breakfast.
“Yep.” She says it with a smile, but I can see the hurt in her eyes still. I put that there and I don’t know how to make it go away. “Say thank you to Paul so we can go.”
“Tanku, Paw.” He gives me another hug around the legs and my heart squeezes like there’s a vice around it as I rub his back.
“Any time, buddy.”
Then Kiersten takes him by the hand and doesn’t look back.
TWENTY-TWO
Kie
rsten
The last thing I want to do is go to the WIC office. I know it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. We all need help sometimes and I’ve paid into the system for years. Forty dollars in food a month for a couple of years won’t even make a dent in the taxes I’ve had taken out of my paychecks. I’m just not really in the emotional headspace to keep my chin up this morning. Getting only a couple of hours sleep isn’t helping either.
This appointment is not about me, though. It’s not about Paul or the one night we had together or the shitty way he talked to me this morning. It’s not even about the fact that I know I misunderstood what he was trying to say and let my own insecurities stop us from having an adult conversation. I’ll have to fix that later. But first, this appointment is about Carson and it would serve me well to keep that at the forefront of my mind for at least a little while.
Looking down at him as we walk along the sidewalk, I gently remind my son about how to behave at appointments like these. If my mother taught me anything of value, it’s that we want to be respectful of the fact that this is someone’s workplace.
“When we’re inside, I want you to be very quiet, Carson.” I put my finger over my lips to reiterate what I’m telling him.
“Be kiat?”
“Yep. No yelling. And stay with mommy the whole time.”
We walk in the non-descript front door into an equally non-descript room. It’s like any other government office I’ve ever been in—plain cream paint with posters about nutrition and breastfeeding on the walls, blue plastic chairs, a long desk separating the staff from those of us waiting. It does have one thing going for it though—a giant wooden toy block. I’m sure it’s sticky from years of little kids playing with it, but I don’t mind as long as Carson is entertained. And from the way his eyes light up when he sees it, I’m sure he’ll be happy for a while.
“I pay, mommy.”
“Go ahead, buddy,” I encourage since it’s just a few short feet from where I have to check-in.
