“Okay,” Sanders said casually. “If you ever want to talk about it …”
“And if you ever want to talk about your past,” I snapped back.
I wasn’t being fair but I wasn’t about to pour my heart out because we played one game. Life wasn’t that simple. People certainly weren’t. We may be able to read each other easily—unnervingly so—but it didn’t mean anything.
This closeness bridged felt like too much, too soon. But I’d felt like that since our first night together. A bird squawked loudly in the tree above us.
I backed up. “I better get to work.”
He blinked a couple times and said, “Yeah, me too.”
“In the morning, let’s meet to discuss the plan,” I said. “For MooreTek.”
He smiled genuinely. “That’d be great.”
Sanders and I might have a connection I couldn’t quite explain, but he was leaving soon and I needed to focus on work. We could play nice together, but it wasn’t any more than that. It couldn’t be any more than that.
Chapter 15
Sanders
Skip once told me about this thing called cry porn. It was when people purposely watched those videos of deaf babies hearing for the first time, or neglected dogs being rescued back to health. He said sometimes he watched them when the sadness got too close to the surface and he just needed to crack it open and let out some of his gooey softness.
I never understood that. Leaning fully into the pain of life. Better to keep moving, never settling. Let me be the river that washed around the boulder never moving it. I went on adventures, bungee jumped, skydived. Anything that spiked my adrenaline, reminding me I was alive. That’s what I needed.
I needed to get away but I was already away in a new town. The intense session with Roxy inexplicably caused acid in my throat, sending me straight back to my room to pop more antacids. I was reaching for my phone when the air-conditioning unit clicked on in the room. Something about the Freon smell and the heavy hum of the unit in the tiny room sent my mind back in time to a month ago. Not even a month.
My dad, fifty pounds too light, sat in the stiff-backed chair at the care home. His pale flesh, papery and bruised. His eyes saw nothing at all. He wasn’t speaking then. I couldn’t stand looking at him like that. I physically couldn’t stomach it. Sometimes he’d laugh. It was best when he laughed because then I thought at least wherever he was, he wasn’t suffering.
I gasped for air as the acid churned in my gut.
“Shit,” I said and ran to the bathroom.
I retched up the nuts and fruit I’d eaten that day. Guilt swirled with helpless anger. Roxy was still front and center in my thoughts which then only made me feel guiltier and angrier about everything back home. I needed to get it together. I couldn’t let it own me. Hadn’t I just said that to Roxy? Don’t let things weigh you down, leave all the heavy shit behind. Just as I was rinsing out my mouth, there was a knock at my door.
“Sanders?” Skip’s voice asked through the door.
I sniffed, rubbed at my eyes, and opened the door. “Skippo, what’s up, mate?”
“Are you okay?” He looked behind me and I wondered if he’d heard all that.
“All good, yeah. Come on in. What’s up?”
“Just wanted to see if you wanted to grab some dinner.” His eyes shot to the roll of Tums on my bedside table. “Are you sick?”
I had to shut this down before concerned Skip took charge, so I quickly changed the subject. “I showed Roxy my tattoo today.”
“Showed her?” He shook his head. “Actually, I don’t want to know.” Skip scratched at his beard. It was getting down right shaggy if you asked me. He liked it that way. He liked to push people away with his scary mountain-man look. Another thing he and Roxy had in common: trying to scare people off.
He moved to sit down on the edge of my bed. I hovered in the corner. He was winding up for a Skip lecture but I couldn’t take it right now. I gnawed on the dry cuticle of my thumb and my leg jumped, shaking the floor.
Skip held my gaze before looking out the window for a minute. He surprised me when he finally spoke. “Remember that time your dad took us camping and we got lost?”
I hadn’t fooled him. Somehow he always knew exactly where my head was at. Another thing he shared with Roxy. I laughed with effort. “Oh hell. That trip was brutal.”
“How old were we, thirteen? Fourteen?”
“I can’t remember but we definitely became men that trip,” I said.
He chuckled softly. “Remember when I hit my head and he acted like it was totally normal?”
“The blood was everywhere.” I shook my head. “I’d never seen anything like it. It was like a scary movie.”
“He said, ‘Ah, you’re fine. Head wounds bleed.’ But then I ended up needing six staples.” His hand reached for the back of his head where his mangy hair covered a three-inch scar.
“And you turned out just fine,” I said.
“Your dad saved my life,” Skip said quietly, not quite meeting my gaze.
“Okay, now who’s dramatic? You would have been—”
“I mean before that. Your dad took me in. He fed me and raised me as his own. He saved me. I have no idea where I’d be if not for him.”
My Adam’s apple sat so high in my throat I had trouble swallowing. “Yeah,” I said.
“He was the greatest man I ever knew.”
I nodded.
He went on, “But it’s okay to not be okay yet—”
“I know, mate. Thanks.” I held up my hand. If he even said another word, I wouldn’t be able to hold it together. The last thing I ever wanted to do was break down in front of Skip. He’d known a real shit life and he never burdened others with it. He was a fucking hero. I wasn’t about to make him feel worse.
He couldn’t understand how angry I was and how that anger made me feel like the most selfish bastard on the planet. How the regret of how I handled those last months burned through my body all the time. Sometimes the overwhelming magnitude of it all hit me. I couldn’t fathom how I was supposed to handle it. What was I even doing here? It was bad enough that I was away from home and the business. It was bad enough that I was hurting a decent person like Roxy. And I had dragged Skip into all this. I needed to focus on the business. That was why I was here. Forget everything else I felt. None of that mattered. The business mattered.
Skip asked, “Today went well? With Roxy?”
I was grateful for the subject change. “Yeah.” I wanted to tell him about the staring and the sharing, but I knew it wouldn’t come across like I meant. “We’re meeting tomorrow to go over plans for MooreTek. I think she’s finally keen to work with me.”
“Good. Glad to hear it. And you’re good too? Working with her?”
“Oh yeah. All that other stuff is behind me. We’re just business associates.”
He held my gaze a second too long and I didn’t think he was buying it at all. “Want me to take over? Need to head back?”
My heart skipped. My palms instantly started to sweat. I should tell him yes. I should let him take over and so I could go home to take care of the shit I messed up. Wrap up Dad’s estate and move on from Green Valley and Roxy Kincaid. Skip was more than capable of conducting our business here.
“Thanks for the offer, mate,” I said. “But I’m really just starting to make progress with her. I think it might be a dick move professionally if I pass her off now, you know?”
“I know the team would like to hear from you. They’re really understanding of what happened. But you should maybe explain what happened at the conference. They’d understand.”
This was as close to scolding me as Skip would get. I could see he was as uncomfortable with it as I was. He wouldn’t quite hold my gaze as he rubbed his beard.
“I’ll talk to them. As soon as I get back. I just don’t want to return until I have awesome news. If I can do great with this client, I’m hoping the Lodge will want to do an exclusivity con
tract with us for all their corporate groups. Or any groups really. We could do wedding parties. Girls’ trips. Those are big too. Communication and vulnerability are good for everyone.”
He looked me dead in the eyes. “I agree.”
I shot to the mini fridge and searched it. There was nothing inside except a couple bottles of five-dollar water but I couldn’t look at him just then.
I heard him let out a long sigh. “Okay. As soon as you wrap up this thing with MooreTek, you’ll head back? Right?”
He asked me directly. I couldn’t put it off any longer. That was over a week away. By then I’d have good news. I’d have figured things out. I spun back around with an easy smile. “Sure. Yeah, of course, Skippo. That’s perfect.”
He nodded but I could tell there was something he wasn’t saying. “And you’re sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Just a little tired.”
He stood up. “Okay. I’ll let you get some rest.”
“How was your day?” I asked, finally remembering not to be such a self-centered twat.
“Good actually. I met with Clifford Rutledge. He said you talked,” Skip said.
“Oh Ford, yeah, he’s a great bloke.” I was happy to hear this. I really did want to get enmeshed in the local community and his Ford’s Fosters seemed like a great program.
“He wants to do a camping trip with his students,” Skip explained. “Wants to hire us to help.”
“Excellent.”
“I think so too,” Skip said.
He headed for the door. “We’ll talk more tomorrow. Just be careful with Roxy.”
“Trust me. I won’t do anything unprofessional. We’re just friends.”
“I trust you. But sometimes being just friends is easier said than done,” he said and left the room. I frowned at the door and realized I wasn’t the only one keeping things from my best friend.
Chapter 16
Sanders
After a good night’s sleep, I felt slightly better but not back to my normal self. When I passed my reflection in the hall mirror, I was frowning. As I waited for the elevator, I practiced my smiling in the reflection of the closed door. It fell off almost immediately. It didn’t normally require so much energy.
I needed to rally before I saw Roxy. I had over a week to figure out how to get Outside the Box rocking again. I wanted to let things happen with Roxy at her own pace. Or not at all. Either way it would be fine. Okay, that was bullshit, but she didn’t need to know.
Roxy and I met early in the morning in an empty office that had obviously turned into an overflow construction work space. Next to the small desk was a circular saw covered in a sheet of plastic and some stacks of two-by-fours. Boxes were stacked in the corner. We were forced to sit, knees almost touching, on the only free side of the desk.
“Nice place,” I said gesturing to the ladder and paint buckets in the opposite corner.
“Yeah, the construction is a little bit of an eyesore.” She took a sip of coffee.
She was back to her most buttoned-up self and my already shit mood darkened. As much as I wanted to be patient, it was always two steps forward, three steps back with her. This dance was much less fun than what we did in Denver.
“But if everything goes to plan, this will be my office one day,” she said flicking a glance to me to gauge my reaction.
“And that’s what you want? To be the events coordinator here?”
She sat ramrod straight and tugged the hem of her skirt down and crossed her legs. She didn’t even look comfortable. Could that really be what she wanted?
Her brows knit. “Yeah, of course. I’ve been working my way up the ladder for years,” she said.
I don’t know why this bothered me. I didn’t have any right to have an opinion on her goals but imagining her in this office all day and night, scrunched behind the desk of this windowless box … She was like a beautiful wildflower trying to pass as a dull house plant.
“It just doesn’t seem to fit your personality. The suits and the office and the bougie corporate title.”
Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared. She frowned fiddling with her fringe, making it perfect. “Right. I could never be so corporate.”
I frowned. “That’s not what I mean. I just …” I scrubbed a hand through my hair. What was my deal? I was being a bastard and taking it out on her. This wasn’t fair. “I’m sorry. You could absolutely run this hotel if you wanted.”
“I wouldn’t want to run the Lodge. I just want …”
“What?” I asked nudging her foot with mine.
“Stability. The assurance that if I do my job well, I will never have to worry about going back.” She shook her head. “I just need to prove I’m worth the chance they took on me.”
I looked closely at her. She was fighting hard not to fidget, her thumbnail piercing into the paper coffee cup in her hand. I wanted to dig more, I wanted to understand what she was so afraid of.
I settled on, “You’re brilliant. You could never disappoint people.” I believed the words but they still came out flat.
“Thanks,” she said but wouldn’t lift her gaze.
There was an awkward silence. I needed to get my shit together but I was cranky and stubborn.
She cleared her throat. “I brought doughnuts. From Daisy’s Nut House. You’ll never have anything better,” she said.
“We have doughnuts in Denver. Crazy. I know.”
“Lord, you are a salty bastard this morning.” She covered her mouth as soon as she said it. “Sorry. That was not professional—”
It was like all at once my tension melted away. I loved when she just said what she thought without filtering it. It was like the first night we met. God, all the times I wished to go back to that first night. The more time I spent with professional Roxy, the further I felt from her.
I nudged her again, and her smile grew. “I am a cranky shit today.” I pushed her chair until she looked at me. “I’m sorry. Give me some coffee?” I pointed to the cup she’d brought me with my best puppy dog eyes.
She handed it to me, her lips trying to hide her smile as she rolled her eyes at me. “And one of these.” She slid a chocolate masterpiece over on a napkin. “You’re wrong, by the way. You’ve never had a doughnut like this. Just try a bite.”
I was tempted to force her to feed it to me, but quickly shut that down. I definitely would not ask Skip to do that. I took a bite and moaned. Three bites later it was gone.
“Fuck me, that was good.” I licked the remaining frosting from my fingers.
When I glanced back to her, she looked away, her cheeks blushing. Maybe because she seemed to work extra hard to get me to come out of my cranky shell or maybe because watching her blush was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen, it wasn’t long before I was back to my normal cherry spirits.
“I do love hole foods,” I said.
She blinked at me and I pointed to the center of the doughnut. “Hole foods, get it.”
She rolled her eyes but laughed. “See, these are magic.”
“I think it’s the company,” I said.
“You shouldn’t say stuff like that.” But this time when she said it there was no fight to her words.
I shrugged. If that’s what it took to get a smile. I would break all the rules.
We spent the rest of the morning working through the itinerary for MooreTek. The team-building activities Outside the Box specialized in fit easily into what she had already arranged. Seeing her so focused and in her element of control shouldn’t add fuel to my inappropriate-thoughts fire, but since I’m a selfish bastard, I might as well own it.
As the minutes passed, she slipped out of her heels and tucked her feet under her. The black pantyhose became sheer when she folded her legs, and her skirt rode up. I loved the glimpse of thigh her new position afforded me. Soon after, she shrugged out of her blazer. When she took out her hair to redo the twisty thing, I almost lost my mind.
Unaware of the direction my tho
ughts had taken, she fluffed her hair, the sweet scent of her shampoo wafting over me. “Yeah, that’s a great idea. You could take them to do the rope thing, and then that night I’ll coordinate a special dinner.”
I only half listened as she spoke. Her arms lifted above her head as she expertly re-twisted her hair, recreating her earlier updo.
“Good, hey?” I said.
How did she learn to do that? How could she make it look so perfect without a mirror? With arms lifted, her shirt rose and a glimpse of a tattoo revealed itself on her waist. I swallowed and wished my gaze alone could move her shirt aside.
“Sanders?” she said my name like this wasn’t the first time she’d tried to get me to answer. “Yo, Colonel!” She shoved my chair with her pantyhose foot.
“Yup?”
“Are you listening?”
“Of course,” I said, forcing my focus back to her face. Roxy glared at me adorably.
“It has to be next week or nothing. This is a big deal.”
“Okay.” I smiled at her.
She sat back in the conference chair and stretched her arms over her head. “Don’t you want to write anything down? We made a lot of plans.”
“Roxy. Trust me. Remember?”
She sighed. Her thumbnail picked at the grain of the conference table.
“Vincent emailed me.” She kept her features straight but she messed with her fringe. “He said MooreTek’s CEO is bringing her think-tank. They’re counting on us to inspire some brilliant breakthrough.”
“Eesh. No pressure.”
“This is what I’m saying. I trust you, Sanders. But I really want to make sure you understand how huge this is for the Lodge.”
People sometimes underestimated me because of my easygoing personality. I was used to that. I repeated back the itinerary of the next week hour by hour. Her eyebrows inched up as I spoke, and by the time I was done, she was almost smiling.
“I’ll also write it down, if that would make you feel better,” I added softly. “I’m taking this as serious as you, okay?”
The One That I Want (Scorned Women Society Book 3) Page 13
