When I started to interrupt, Mason held up one hand. “I’m not saying anything about your ma, Trent. Man’s got a right to be protective of his own, I get that, but we all know your mother didn’t make your life easy. Most guys would’ve let her hang, but you didn’t. You came back here, bailed her out and now you’re making sure she stays out of trouble. All of this in a town where half the people hate you for what you used to be and the others don’t seem to give a rat’s ass about you.”
I lifted my half-drunk beer. “Thanks for the feel-good talk, Mason. You’ve really got this sympathetic bartender crap down.”
He gave me a half-grin, but he kept talking. “It’s straight talk, Trent, because that’s what you need. I’m telling you, I get what you’re going through, as much as I can. I’m also saying, I admire the hell out of you, because changing who you were isn’t easy. I don’t want to hear this shit about you not being good enough, because it was obvious to both Rilla and me that Elizabeth—your wife—didn’t feel that way. When we asked her who we could call to come help her, she didn’t even hesitate. She said your name. She said, ‘Call my husband.’”
Yeah, hearing that gave me a spike of happy, but I shook my head. “She was drunk.”
“She was. Which means she was honest and real. No bullshit, just reaching out for who she needed. Who she wanted.” He paused, his brows knitting together. “Hey, wait a minute. Did you say a while back that you lost your job at Grainger’s? Sorry, I just realized what you said.”
I sighed. “Yeah. Business is slow, numbers down, last one hired, first one fired. Same old. And where the hell I’m going to find another job in this town . . . I don’t know.” I drained the rest of my mug.
Mason stood across the bar, studying me. “It’s got to be in Burton? You could just go back to Michigan and work for your uncle again, right?”
I shook my head. “Not an option right now. My mother . . .” I hadn’t told anyone other than Elizabeth the truth about why I was staying in town. “She needs to stay at the same address for four months to qualify for this rehab deal. This is her last shot, Mason. Her last chance to get sober and maybe figure out how to be a real person. I have to do everything I can to make sure she gets it. So yeah, I need to find something in town or close enough I can make the drive and be home to keep my eye on her at night.”
“What about Elizabeth? Can’t she help?”
I clenched my jaw. “She could. She would. I don’t want that. My mother isn’t her problem, and I don’t want her fucking supporting us.”
“I get it.” Mason nodded. He exhaled and looked down the bar, then across the room, where now the door was opening with steady regularity and tables were filling on the restaurant side. Business was booming at the Road Block.
“What would you think about working here?”
The noise in the bar was starting to amp up. People were talking, background music was playing, and so I was pretty sure I’d misheard Mason. I leaned up.
“What’d you say?”
He glanced down the bar to where Darcy, the other bartender, was just tying on an apron to start serving up drinks. “Hey, Darce, you got this for a little bit?”
She winked and nodded. “Got it, boss.”
Mason turned back to me. “Do me a favor. Come back to my office for a minute. Let’s talk.”
An hour later, I left the Road Block with a new job.
“Here’s the deal, Trent. For a while, I’ve been feeling like I’m getting pulled in too many directions. I have a gorgeous wife, two beautiful children, and I don’t get to see them nearly enough, because this place is just blowing up. I’m happy as hell about that, don’t get me wrong. But I’m not ready to give up my family to keep it going. I have Rocky, and I have Darcy, but neither of them want more hours or more responsibility.”
I nodded. “Okay. But Mason, I don’t have any experience in working at a bar or a restaurant.”
He shrugged. “You’ll learn. You’re a smart guy, Trent. What I need is someone I can train to do exactly what I need. I want someone to take my daytime hours so I can be home, spending time with Rilla and the kids and my mom. It would mean some weekend days, too, so I hope you’d be all right with that.”
“I think I could do that.” As long as it was daylight, Mrs. Price could see across the street to keep an eye on my mother. Elizabeth would probably be around, too, but I wasn’t going to ask her to have anything to do with my mother.
“Great. So you come in starting tomorrow, and for a week, I’ll give you on-the-job training. If we get to the end and we’re both happy, it’s a steady gig. If for any reason you don’t like it or if I feel like it’s not a good fit, we’ll call it a day, no questions asked, no hard feelings. What do you say?”
I rubbed a brass tack on the arm of the leather chair where I sat. “Mason, I got to ask you one thing. Why’re you doing this? Is it because you feel sorry for me? Because I sure as hell don’t need pity or charity.”
“Chill, dude. This isn’t pity. This is me seeing an opportunity and taking it. Sometimes things happen for a reason, and you just have to be smart enough to see it. I’ve been considering this for a while, and you got to think, it felt like it was—what do they call that? Serendipity? When you walked in here tonight, and you needed a job, I felt like something clicked. Meant to be, buddy. So it’s not charity. And I don’t feel sorry for you. I admire you for standing up when most people would turn away, for having the balls to come back to this town when I know it was probably the last thing you wanted to do.”
I didn’t answer, but I met his eyes, and he nodded.
“And I think you got a chance to really turn shit around, Trent. You might think you and Elizabeth aren’t going to make it, but I think you could be wrong. Why not give it a shot? You said you’re bad news. Well, that’s some fucked up shit. You have everything you need, Trent. You’re a good guy. I see it. Elizabeth sees it. And the longer you hang in here, others will, too.”
I took a deep breath. “You’re sure? You think I can do this?”
He leveled a gaze at me. “I know you can.” He stood up and offered me his hand. “Now go home and tell that beautiful wife of yours that she’s going to have to come back over here now that her husband’s helping to run the joint. I’ll have Rilla come over one night, and the four of us can get to know each other a little better.”
My head was spinning a little. “Okay. I’ll mention it.” I paused. “Mason—thank you. I know you didn’t have to take a chance on me. But I just—thank you.”
He grinned. “Seeing potential is my specialty, dude. And I see a shitload in you.” He winked. “Prove me right.”
“I will. Don’t worry.”
I felt like I was practically walking on air as I left the bar. I wondered if Elizabeth was worrying about me being late. I couldn’t wait to get home and tell her my news.
I opened the door to the apartment after jogging up the steps from the sidewalk. Stepping into the living room, I ducked just in time to avoid being hit in the head by a red shoe that was flying through the air.
“You fucking bitch! Get out of my way. You can’t make me stay here.”
Across the room, just beyond the short hallway, my mother stood in one high-heeled shoe. Its mate was the one that had just missed beaning me. In front of her, arms crossed over her chest, my wife was blocking her path. The glance she tossed over her shoulder at me was positively murderous.
“Where the hell have you been?” The two women spoke almost in unison, though my mother’s words were hissed and Elizabeth practically screamed hers.
“Uh . . .” I paused, deciding that blurting out that I’d both lost a job and gotten a new one was probably not the way to lead here. “What’s going on?”
“She’s holding me against my will!” My mother screeched, jerking away from Elizabeth. “I want to go out, and she won’t get the hell out of my way.”
“She came out here and announced she was going out tonight.” Elizabet
h turned to me, her eyebrows shooting up. “Like, you know, it’s something she does every night. I told her she couldn’t, and she’s been fighting me ever since.”
“You can’t keep me here against my will. It’s illegal. I can call the cops.” My mother’s bottom lip stuck out petulantly.
“Oh, yeah? And just how do you think you’re going to do that? You have a phone?” Elizabeth dug into the back pocket of the jeans that were covering her very excellent ass—not now, Trent, focus! She pulled out her cell phone and dangled it over my mother’s head. “On second thought, you know what? Go right ahead. Call the police. Tell them I’m keeping you inside. Tell them I’m torturing you. I bet they give me a medal.”
I choked back a snort of laughter. I’d forgotten how feisty my wife could get. It was one of the things I’d loved about her early on, but since coming to Burton, she’d been subdued and guarded, with only brief glimpses of the firecracker I’d known and still loved. Like the night with the fried chicken.
But now, she was out in full force, the mad gleaming in her blue eyes. My mother glared at her, and then shifted her attention to me. When she realized whose side I was going to take—and really, could it have been that big a surprise?—she wilted, her shoulders slumping.
“Fine.” With one swift kick, she sent the other shoe flying through the air. Elizabeth darted out of its way, and I managed to catch it before it went through the front window.
My mother stomped back down the hall to her room and slammed the door so hard, the entire house vibrated. In her wake, she left a deafening silence.
Elizabeth turned around to face me. “Where were you all this time? I got home, changed my clothes and started dinner, and you still weren’t here. And then Madame comes prancing out of her room, cool as you please, and makes it almost all the way to the front door before I stopped her.”
“I’m sorry.” Guilt battled with my eagerness to tell her about my new job. “I should’ve called. I never even thought—Elizabeth, I’m really, really sorry.”
For a minute, I was afraid she was going to launch into a full-blown rant. And maybe it would’ve been a good thing. But instead, she shook her head, waved her hand and closed her eyes.
“No, I get it. I mean, you must feel like you don’t even have a life. You get up early, go to work, and then come home and babysit your mother until it’s time to go to sleep on this crappy couch before you get up and do it all over again. And I’m not making it any easier. I get that you needed to blow off some steam. It’s okay. I was just—I was worried, is all.”
“Elizabeth.” I took two tentative steps toward her, reaching out a hand to touch her arm. “It wasn’t that. I don’t mind anything. The stuff with my mom is what it is. But I was a little upset when I left Grainger’s, because he had to lay me off.”
Understanding and sympathy filled her face. “Oh, God, Trent. I’m sorry. What happened?”
I shrugged. “Nothing really. Just one of those things. He said he’d like to hire me back once things pick up again in the summer, but he can’t keep me on right now. Not his fault. But still . . . I drove around a little, and I ended up at Mason’s. At the Road Block.”
“Oh.” I saw the pink tinge on her cheeks. She hadn’t been anywhere near the bar or Mason and Rilla since her dramatic entry to town a month before. I knew she was mortified that she’d gotten rip-roaring drunk before she’d even really arrived.
“Yeah, I wanted to . . . I don’t know what I wanted, but I talked to Mason, and this is the good news part.” I raised my other hand so that I was holding her lightly by her upper arms, my thumbs stroking over her thin cotton shirt. “He offered me a job as assistant manager at the bar.”
Elizabeth blinked. “Really? And you—I take it you said yes?”
I nodded. “Yeah. It’s just days, and I won’t have to be there until nine every morning. The pay is really good, and I won’t be hauling feed sacks.” I slid my hands to her shoulders and squeezed them lightly. “I couldn’t believe Mason offered it to me.”
Her face lit up as her lips curved into smile. “Trent, I’m so happy for you. That’s wonderful.” She stood on her toes and lifted her arms around my neck to hug me.
The minute I felt her softness crushed against me, my body went into overdrive. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her closer to me, and without giving any thought to the past or to the future, I lowered my head and covered her mouth with mine.
For a few beats of my heart, Elizabeth didn’t respond. She was frozen stock-still, though I could feel the pounding of her pulse against my skin. And then as though she’d been suddenly set free, she made a small sound in the back of her throat and kissed me back with abandon.
Her boobs pressed into my chest, and her hips canted toward mine. I went hard, my response immediate and intense. All the blood in my body was either rushing to join the party between my legs or roaring in my ears. My brain had only one thought, and it was to get my clothes off—and hers, too—lay her on the sofa behind us and slide into the paradise that was her body.
My hands roamed south, molding her ass and lifting her up so that I could grind against the heat of her sex. She dropped her own fingers to delve under my shirt, exploring the bare skin of my sides and back.
“God, Trent. I forgot—how good . . .” She was mumbling softly as she kissed her way down my neck.
“I know.” I hadn’t forgotten how good we were. It just wasn’t something I could let myself think about often without going crazy. But now, it all came back to me, an undeniable wave sweeping both of us along.
I risked moving one hand up to cup her tit, knowing how much she loved it when I touched her nipples. With a quiet moan, she pushed her breast against my fingers, craving more just as I was.
A loud crash came from the direction of my mother’s room, and we both jumped, every movement coming to a complete halt. Elizabeth was breathing fast, her chest rising and falling in time with mine. I held her arms again, and she dropped her forehead to my chest.
“I should probably go check and make sure she’s not trying to climb out her window.” My voice was muffled against Elizabeth’s hair. “Or maybe I should just let her do it. God knows I’m sick and tired of being her warden.”
“Yeah, I know.” Elizabeth turned her head so that her ear pressed against my speeding heart. “I need to check dinner anyway. I made lasagna. I don’t want it to burn.”
“Okay.” I released her. “Let me see what’s going on back there, then I’ll help you get it all on the table.” I dared one more kiss, touching her lips lightly with mine.
Her eyes, clouded and wondering, searched me. I trailed one finger down her soft cheek, smiling.
For the first time in months, my life felt possible again.
“SO WHAT HAPPENED NEXT?”
I sighed and moved the phone to my other ear. I couldn’t help glancing at the closed door to my office. I had a sneaking suspicion that Gladys sometimes skulked down the hall to my office and listened at the door; I’d never caught her at it, but I’d have sworn I saw her unmistakable silhouette out there. She’d made several arch comments about me keeping my door shut, informing me that Clark had never done the same.
“I supposed he didn’t have anything to hide. No secrets, that man.” She’d said it while watching me out of the corner of her eye.
“Or he just knew better than to talk about his secrets here at the office.” I’d shrugged and given her my specially-patented Gladys smile, phony as all get-out. She’d harrumphed and stalked away from me.
“Hello? Elizabeth, are you still there?” Cory was getting impatient.
“Yes, I’m here. Sorry, I thought I heard someone at my door.” I usually visited Cory at the library a few times a week. In the month I’d been living in Burton, the older woman had become my confidante and my friend. It was such a relief to be able to talk about what was happening at home¸ with Trent and his mother, and at the office, where Gladys and I continued our daily struggle for co
ntrol and dominance. But today the rain was coming down in torrents, and since I had a conference call just after lunch with two clients regarding a real estate sale anyway, it didn’t make sense to haul my cookies down there.
“Well, don’t leave me hanging like that. You two were basically groping at each other, making out like teenagers, and then . . . what happened? Was his mother really trying to escape out her window?”
I sighed. “No, she’d pulled down the clothes bar from her closet, trying to climb up to get something. Trent was afraid maybe she’d somehow gotten booze and hidden it there, so he searched the whole area, but he didn’t find anything. She’s so secretive, though. And I thought she was going to tear me to bits when I tried to keep her from leaving the house.”
“Good for you, for standing your ground.” I heard papers shuffling in the background. “But Trent didn’t say anything? He didn’t kiss you again?”
“Not like before, no.” I thought of his face when I’d finally gone to bed much later that night. We’d enjoyed a rare dinner for two, since Donna was still sulking and refused to emerge from her room to eat. I told Trent I’d make her plate, but he wouldn’t let me, saying she’d come out if she were hungry enough.
So we’d sat on the floor, with our lasagna on the coffee table, both of us more relaxed and ourselves than we’d been since I’d come to Burton. Trent had apologized that we didn’t have any wine in the house to go with our meal; he didn’t keep it out of fear his mom would drink anything she could get her hands on.
But we hadn’t needed wine to feel a little giddy. I made Trent tell me the whole story about how Mason had come to hire him. I could tell from the light in his eyes that he was excited about the new job.
“He wants you to come down some night, too—both of us. He said Rilla would get someone to watch the kids and come over, too, so we could get to know each other.”
Always My Own (Always Love Trilogy #2) Page 11
