by London Hale
“Morning.” He went back to his iPad, ignoring me.
I made a cup of coffee, my throat tight and my stomach twisting the entire time. I’d expected more from him, but apparently, I wasn’t going to get it without pushing. One of us needed to be an adult and start the conversation, no matter how awkward it would be. I’d been hoping it would be Josh, that he’d step up and be the one to calmly discuss his actions and where we went from there. Apparently, he had other plans. Plans that included ignoring the elephant trampling through the room. I wasn’t willing to do the same, though.
So as I settled in across from him at the table, I took a deep breath and readied myself for some serious adulting. “About last night—”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have overstepped my bounds.” He ran a hand through his hair, refusing to even look me in the face. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’m hoping we can just forget it ever happened.”
It was a lot to ask. Too much, in fact. “Yeah, that’s not happening. The only thing ignoring last night is going to do is make things worse.”
His head jerked back, his eyes finally meeting mine. Big, nervous eyes. I hadn’t been expecting that from him. Disgust, doubtful but possible. Awkwardness, sure. Distance, definitely. Nervousness? Never. What could he be so worried about?
Ignoring the urge to investigate that look, to interrogate him until he told me what he was so concerned about, I gripped my mug to keep my hands from shaking and went in a different direction.
“Why’d you run out?”
His expression hardened, and he looked away once more. “I think I already made this situation as bad as it could be, don’t you think? I went down on my nanny, for fuck’s sake. That’s not appropriate behavior, certainly not with the woman who’s taking care of my son.”
I was really getting sick of the word appropriate. “Then why’d you even bother coming into my room?”
He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Because I’m attracted to you—I always have been. I thought that was fairly obvious. But just because there’s attraction doesn’t mean it’s something I should act on.”
I digested those words for a good three seconds, relishing the fact that he was attracted to me. Relieved, even. “So it wasn’t a pity orgasm?”
“Jesus, no,” he said, frowning as if even the thought was appalling. “Why would you think that?”
“Why wouldn’t I? The man I’ve had a crush on for almost two years finally makes a move, but only after he learns how defective I am. And when I try to return the favor—something I’ve been dreaming of doing, by the way—he runs.” My shoulders sagged, much of the fight draining from my body. “It was so obvious you regretted being with me.”
Josh tossed his iPad onto the table, his eyes hard and filled with anger as they met mine. “First of all, you are not defective. You came just fine last night.”
I blinked. Twice. Josh stared back at me, his lips turning up in a grimace as the seconds ticked by.
“I came just fine?” I stressed each syllable, my tone harsh and my words clipped.
He groaned, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose under his glasses as if trying to hold back a headache. “Try to forget I said that. I shouldn’t be saying things like that to you.”
“Why not?”
He laughed, the sound so out of place, I sat back in my chair and simply stared at him.
“Where do I start?” he asked in an incredulous voice. “I’m your employer. I rely on you to take care of my son. Not to mention the fact that I am nearly old enough to be your father.”
Sometimes puzzle pieces seemed impossible to put together, and other times they fell into place without issue. I hadn’t expected an aha moment with Josh, hadn’t planned on actually getting to the root of his problem with me, but his words dropped those pieces in a way that they slid together in my mind and showed me one very clear picture. “Is that it? You want me but think you can’t have me because of Max?”
He looked away, avoiding me once more. “I want you, Bailey. I always have. But, I’m sorry. I can’t do anything to jeopardize—”
I shoved back from the table, the screeching of the chair drawing him up short. “Do you really think so little of me? Do you think I’d risk that little boy in any way?”
“Bailey, what—”
But I wasn’t hearing him. “For fuck’s sake, Josh, I’m not stupid or heartless. You weren’t the only one who dealt with Max’s grief. You aren’t the one who wipes his tears away when his doctor daddy is stuck at the hospital for a long surgery, and he gets anxious about losing another person in his life.” I stomped across the kitchen, rage fueling every harsh move. “I know how important I am to that little boy, and I’d never do anything to risk that relationship. I thought maybe—just maybe—we could move the attraction between us to the next level, that we could be adults and put Max first while exploring our feelings.”
“I’m trying to put Max first!”
I slammed my coffee cup on the counter and spun to face him. “No, you’re not. You’re putting your fears first. Max gets second place.”
My eyes burned, tears ready to fall. He really thought I’d leave Max if things didn’t work out with us? Did he not know me? Did he not see how much that little boy owned my heart? Max was family, and the fact that Josh chose not to notice that hurt far more than him walking out on me the night before.
I rinsed out the mug and set it in the dishwasher, slamming the door closed. “Just so you know, no matter what happens with us, I’d never walk away from Max. Ever.”
My tears began to fall, leaving wet streaks behind on my cheeks. I needed to go, needed to get away so I could settle down before I said something I really regretted. Before he saw how much he’d hurt me and tried to placate me with words he didn’t mean.
I wasn’t above launching one final hit below the belt, though.
“You keep your fears company,” I said as I headed out of the kitchen. “I’ve got a lunch date to get ready for.”
I fucked up. There was no other way to describe it as I watched Bailey storm out of the kitchen, her irritation cloaking the room even after she left. I plucked off my glasses and scrubbed my hands over my face with a groan. How had I let this get so screwed up?
I’d gone to bed last night with the smell of her all over me, so sure walking away had been for the best. That instead of thinking with my cock, I was finally thinking with my head and doing the logical, responsible thing. For all of us.
Not only did I have Max to worry about, but I knew Bailey didn’t come from a lot of money, and her employment with me was the only reason she was able to stay on the island while taking online classes to complete her business degree. I hadn’t wanted to do anything to jeopardize her future. Not that I’d ever fire her—Max loved her too much, and the feeling was mutual between them—but if she got uncomfortable, I didn’t want to put her in a situation where she had to make the choice between her livelihood and her happiness.
But then, in true Bailey fashion, she’d taken a sledgehammer to my thinking, busting through every preconceived notion I had, and made me see things from her perspective. And from her perspective? I was the Grade A asshole who walked out on her five minutes after she came, not the responsible parent I thought I was being.
She’d been right—I was letting my fear guide my decisions. Even shittier was that I’d even convinced myself it had been for Max when it was clearly to protect myself.
I sat at the kitchen table, staring at the place she’d just escaped through—for a date, apparently. The thought of her out with someone else about killed me. It didn’t matter if the guy was an immature twenty-two-year-old or a forty-two-year-old business owner, I didn’t like it. I hated it. Hated the thought of someone else buying her a meal, sitting across from her, and soaking up every one of her smiles. Someone else being on the receiving end of her laughter, hearing about her day. I wanted to be that someone—had wanted it for a while.
&nb
sp; I’d had a taste of what it could be like to be with Bailey, and now I wanted the whole damn meal. If she was willing to explore this thing between us—if she wasn’t worried about the possible outcomes—then I was going to trust her judgment and push away my reservations.
But now, thanks to my asinine assumptions and my asshole reactions, I had a dog house to get out of. The only other time I’d seen Bailey that pissed off had been when a little shit at Max’s school had swiped his lunch and pushed him down on the playground, ripping his jeans and cutting open the skin on his knees. She might not have been Max’s biological mother, but the mama bear was fierce and alive inside her, that was for damn sure.
My plans would have to wait until tonight, but I knew exactly what to do. It wasn’t anything extravagant or outrageous, because that wasn’t Bailey. I just hoped it was enough.
I had a couple stores to get to, but first… I grabbed a stack of Post-it notes from the drawer, uncapped a pen, and wrote a few quick notes to her. Leaving them around where I knew she’d see them, I smiled for the first time that morning and went to grab a quick shower before heading out.
I wasn’t happy about her going out with some other dick, but I couldn’t exactly stop her. I could, however, do everything in my power to make sure she knew how sorry I was and that she thought of me the whole time.
I didn’t actually have lunch plans, but I figured getting out of the house would be a good idea. I was too angry, too hurt to stick around. If Josh tried to talk to me right then, I’d probably say something I’d regret. Or cry. God, I didn’t want to cry in front of him.
Still, it surprised me when I heard Josh’s car start and pull out of the driveway. Surprised and hurt, if I was being honest. Guess I really wasn’t worth pursuing. I watched out my window as he left, a sense of hopelessness swamping me. That was it. Crush over… Josh had put the kibosh on anything more than an employer/employee relationship between us. I’d have to accept that.
I trudged down the hall, figuring I could walk down to Main Street and drown my sorrows in some ice cream from Scoops, the year-round ice cream parlor. I’d give myself a few days to wallow in the sadness, then I’d need to pull my shit together. Max would be home eventually, and it would be time to go back to work. That little guy needed me, and I refused to let him down.
There was a yellow Post-it stuck to the top of the banister. I hadn’t heard Josh come upstairs, though that didn’t mean he hadn’t. Still, if he was going to fire me, a sticky note was about the most classless way to go about it. My anger flaring back up, I stormed to the note, ripping it off the wood post, ready to tear it into pieces, but the simple words written on it quelled every bit of that emotion.
I’m sorry.
That was it. Two words. The simplest apology known to man and yet so effective. I ran my fingers over the solid black lines. Did he mean it? And what was he sorry for exactly? I was about to take the note back to my room for some serious overthinking when another slip of yellow caught my attention. This one was on the bottom banister, stuck to the wood just like the one at the top of the stairs. I hurried down the steps, anxious to see what the second note had to say. I was not disappointed.
I’m an asshole.
“Yeah, you sure are,” I whispered into the empty house. A third note caught my attention, sitting right underneath my keys on the foyer table. This one I walked to slowly, almost afraid of what I’d find. Of what he had to say. The keys jangled as I moved them, the words coming into focus before I’d even plucked the paper from the tabletop.
I wish I were taking you to lunch.
I fought the smile tugging at my lips. The notes were cute, too cute. Almost enough to make me want to drop my guard and wait for him to come home. Almost, but not quite. I grabbed my purse and keys, tucking the notes in my back pocket before heading for the front door. But there was one more surprise for me, one more little square of yellow.
I slept with the shirt you came all over, and now my bed smells like you. I spent all night dreaming about making you come.
I snatched the note off the door, frowning. Words were nice; actions were better. We’d see how things went once the damn panty-melter came home. Meanwhile, I wasn’t going to sit around waiting for him. I had my own plans to make, and they entailed a trip to my favorite store.
Six hours and one hefty charge to my credit card later, I found myself pacing the length of my room. Alone. Josh had arrived home almost an hour before but hadn’t come upstairs. Not that I’d sought him out, either. But he was the one who’d screwed up; he was the one leaving apologetic notes and dirty thoughts for me to find. He needed to make the first move. I just wished he’d make it already.
I was about to say screw it and storm downstairs to see what in the world he thought he was doing when a soft knock sounded. I stared at my closed door, unsure if I should walk over to open it or not. Whatever happened next would change everything. I knew it, could feel the gravity of the situation pulling at me. Would Josh still be apologetic? Or would he have spent his time deciding I wasn’t worth the risk after all?
There was only one way to find out.
“Come in,” I called, leaning back against my dresser for support.
Josh opened the door, peeking his head around the corner until he saw me. “Hi.”
Oh hell. One word, and my poor panties were already soaked. What was it about this man? How did he have such a hold over me? And why did I like it so damn much?
“Hey.” My voice sounded off, maybe a little breathy. A tad on the way to phone sex operator. Lovely. “Come on in.”
He pushed the door the rest of the way open and stepped inside. “Did you find my notes?”
I nodded, clutching the edge of the dresser to keep from throwing myself at him. He dreamt about making me come. “I did.”
His smile faltered, and for a moment, he looked almost unsure of himself. But then his eyes met mine again, and that killer confidence was back. “How was lunch?”
Josh kept his jaw stiff, saying the words through clenched teeth. Looking a little frustrated and a lot jealous. And while the young girl living inside of me liked the idea of a man like Josh Hutton jealous over her, the adult in me knew that was a treacherous road to choose. Time to be an adult once more.
“I didn’t have a lunch date,” I said, pushing off the dresser and stepping closer to him. “I told you that because I was angry and upset, but it wasn’t true. I ran a few errands by myself this afternoon.”
Everything about him seemed to sigh in relief. It was almost like a wave had washed over him, knocking off the hurt and uncertainty and jealousy. This time, he walked over to me, crossing the room in three easy steps, never dropping my gaze for a second. “I’m sorry.”
So sincere. So true. Two words that meant so much to me. He reached up and tucked my hair behind my ear before running his finger over my cheek.
“I know. I read the note.” I grabbed his hand and held it against my face. A little softness in exchange for some hard truth. “You’re also an asshole, like you said.”
His hand froze, his eyebrows sliding up his forehead. And then he laughed. “That I am.” Another rub of his fingers along my face, then down my neck to caress my collarbone. I shivered, goose bumps rising across my skin at his simple touch. “I’m still sorry.”
“I forgive you,” I said softly, meaning every word.
Josh stared down at me, some sort of emotion swirling in his eyes. Passion perhaps, maybe pure old lust. Whatever it was, I wanted to be part of it.
“Do you have plans tonight?” he asked.
“No, I never make plans for Saturday nights.” I shrugged, unable not to. “That’s family picnic night in the Hutton household.”
He smiled, dropping his hand to weave his fingers with mine. “Will you come downstairs with me?”
I nodded and followed him, fighting to keep my breathing normal. I had no idea what he had planned, no idea what was coming, but I was in. Totally, completely, one-hundred-p
ercent in.
“You mentioned having a crush on me for years,” Josh said as he led me down the stairs. My face heated, but I couldn’t deny it. Especially not when he glanced back at me with that serious expression on his handsome face. “I want you to know I’ve been paying attention that whole time, too. I tried not to because I didn’t think I should, but everything about you calls to me, Bailey. I hope I got it all right.”
Before I could ask what he meant, we hit the bottom of the stairs and turned the corner into the living room. Normally, it was a simple room—couch, love seat, chair, two side tables, and a large television in a built-in bookcase thing. On family picnic nights, Max usually had a stack of blankets and stuffed animals, I’d have a pillow or two, and Josh would have a pizza with plates and juice boxes set out for all of us.
Tonight was not a normal night.
There were no cartoons on the big screen. Instead, I recognized the opening credits to one of my all-time favorite movies. The one I always watched alone because I’d quote every line and cry at every cheesy emotional scene. On the floor was definitely a blanket, but instead of a pizza box and stuffed animals, the blanket was covered in takeout containers from my favorite sushi spot. There were even a couple of coconut cupcakes off to the side from the bakery I liked to call my own personal heaven. But the best, my favorite part, was the vase filled with hydrangeas on the end table.
“The Bloom Room hasn’t had hydrangeas for weeks.”
Josh chuckled, pulling me into his arms to rest my back against his chest as he pressed a kiss to my temple. “I know. That’s what took me so long. I had to take a trip to the mainland.”
Words were hard to come by as I took in every detail, every bit of time he’d invested. All my favorite things—some I’d never actually told him about. He’d been paying attention, far more than I’d ever thought possible.
“I…how did you do all this?” I turned and looked up at him, almost ready to cry at how sweet this man could be.
“It wasn’t hard—I already knew all your favorites. I just had to get them.” He grew serious, staring down at me in a way that made me want to drop to my knees right there. “Is it right?”
