“Oh, I hadn’t realized you were seeing anybody,” she said, her eyes widening with surprise. “Cheryl never mentioned…well, nevermind.” Cindy’s cheeks flushed, and she dipped out pretty quick after that.
Opening the front door, Sawyer bolted in, going straight for Tig, who was standing in the hallway, his tail wagging like a propeller as she flew at him and buried her face into his furry side.
“Hi, Tig!” Sawyer said, nuzzling into him.
“Go get changed, and we’ll head out for that walk,” I told her, smiling with warmth at the sight.
“Okay!” she practically shouted, taking off down the hall and up the stairs. She’d always been a pretty self-sufficient kid and had learned at a young age how to get dressed on her own.
Ten minutes later, I heard her running for the stairs. “Take it easy. Use the railing!” I called up, waiting for her in the mudroom.
I helped her into her pink spring jacket, and we walked out onto the back deck, Sawyer and Tig racing ahead of me. “Daddy, can we make a garden?” Sawyer asked, looking over her shoulder when she’d reached the overgrown garden beds.
“We could give it a try.” I shrugged, smiling a little.
“Now?” she asked, her eyes sparkling.
“We don’t have any plants or gardening supplies, so we’ll have to get some.” I chuckled. “But we could make it our next weekend project.”
“Okay,” Sawyer sighed, longingly looking at the garden beds before we continued walking through the grassy fields behind the house.
Tig kept pace with Sawyer, never letting her venture too far from his sight. We stayed out there, exploring the woods for a good two hours before we headed inside for lunch.
“Hi, Mommy! Guess what? Daddy got a dog!” Sawyer said, her words coming out in an excited rush as she raced up the sidewalk and threw her arms around her mother’s legs. Cheryl’s chin lifted, her brow furrowing as she looked at me.
“You got a dog?” she asked, her tone annoyed. “Without talking to me first?”
“I don’t see why I have to ask your permission to get a dog,” I retorted, on the defence. I could have pointed out all of the times she hadn’t bothered to give me a heads up before making a life-altering change, like leaving me and then moving in with her boyfriend, but I didn’t. I choked those thoughts back, trying to release the frustration I felt.
Sawyer didn’t need to witness it.
“Its dander better not be on her clothes. You know I’m allergic.”
“Oh, come on, Cheryl,” I grumbled, shaking my head. “Do you police your friends who have dogs, too?”
Her eyes became dangerous slits. “Say goodbye to your father, Sawyer. You’ll see him in two weeks.”
“Bye, Daddy!” Sawyer said, looking up at me with wide eyes that were a little sad and apologetic. She likely felt responsible for getting me into trouble with Cheryl, even though she wasn’t. Her mother would have found some other reason to be mad at me.
“Bye, munchkin,” I told her, crouching with my arms open. She ran into them and hugged me tightly. Pressing a kiss against her temple, I wished things could be different.
Better, somehow.
“I love you!” Sawyer said, kissing the apple of my cheek.
“I love you too. I’ll see you soon, okay?” I said, and she nodded. Sawyer took off running up the steps, disappearing through the front door of her mother’s house. Cheryl went to follow her in. “Cheryl, wait.”
She turned, placing her hand on her growing belly. She was about five months pregnant now and due sometime in September. “What?” she demanded.
“I was wondering what your plan is when the baby comes.”
“It’s none of your concern.” She folded her arms across her chest.
I sighed. I’d expected her to be standoffish about it, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating. “If you need help with Sawyer, I’m here. I can pick her up from school, take her to dance lessons, whatever you need. I’m only thirty minutes away now.”
“Mason’s mom is coming to stay with us. We’ll be fine,” Cheryl replied, tilting her chin up, her red hair catching in the setting sun.
“But I live one town over, and I don’t mind taking her more to help while you recover from the delivery.”
“I don’t need help with Sawyer,” Cheryl snapped. “I need you to back off.”
I brought my hands up to my face like I was praying, and covered my nose, my eyes never leaving her face. “All I want is more time with Sawyer, and I thought I could help you out in the process. I didn’t move here to intrude on your new perfect life with Mason, I just want to be closer to our daughter. Can you at least think about it?”
She shook her head back and forth like she wanted to tell me no again. I needed to walk away before we got into another argument. If I could keep my cool, I might be able to convince Cheryl to change her mind, but I knew if I lost my temper it would never happen.
As much as I hated it, I had to play by her rules—even if they sucked.
“Fine, I’ll think about it.” She relented, whirling around and stomping up to her door.
I walked away, my gaze focused on my truck, my heart pounding with adrenaline and frustration. I sat in the cab for a moment, my fingers gripping my key tight, and peered up at the house.
I could see movement in one of the upstairs rooms, a curtain moving away from the window and a small face peering out. I waved, smiling although it pained me, and she waved back.
Sawyer watched as I drove away for another eleven days.
8
Leave Him Wanting
Gwen
On Monday morning, Dad walked into the office with Alaric through the shop doors. I was sitting at my desk, working a quote for a client.
Hearing the sound of the heavy door clicking shut, I glanced up, blinking once to make sure I wasn’t daydreaming again. I drew in a composing breath as they approached.
Dad stopped before my desk, his fingers tapping against it distractedly. “I need you to photocopy Alaric’s welding tickets. He needs clearance to go on a job site.”
“You’re sending him out into the field?” I asked, surprised. It was only Alaric’s second week on the job. Usually, it took new employees months to earn Dad’s trust, if they ever did. They’d have to do shop bitch tasks—sweeping, cleaning up, painting, things like that—before he’d let them go to job sites.
“Yes, he’ll be with Mitch.”
“All right,” I said. Mitch Whitfield had worked for Williams Tech for fifteen years as the onsite foreman. He was one of my dad’s most trusted employees.
“Great, I’ll leave you to it.” Dad nodded, turning and heading back out to the shop. The heavy metal door fell shut behind him, and the room instantly felt void of oxygen.
“You seemed surprised, should I be worried?” Alaric joked, reaching into his back pocket. I tried not to watch the tendons in his forearms working as he pulled out his wallet, but it was fruitless. I was hypnotized by him.
Clearing my throat, I raised my eyes to look at him, my lips tugging up in a slight smile. “I guess I am, a little. We’ve had a few incidents in the past with employees not representing the company to my dad’s liking, so he’s really picky about who he chooses to send to job sites. It usually takes people months to earn his trust.”
“I get it. I was a little surprised too.” Alaric chuckled lightly. He opened his wallet and removed a stack of cards—his welding tickets and certifications for all of the job safety courses, and held them out to me.
I reached out to take them, the tips of my fingers brushing against his calloused palm, and tried to hide the effect he had on me; the way touching him so briefly had sent me straight back to the night we spent together. Memories of his calloused hands on my skin taunted me, and I knew my cheeks were heating up—along with some of my other parts.
I wanted more than anything to feel those hands on my body again.
Turning, I walked toward the photocopier. I sc
anned each card, conscious of his heavy gaze on me. I licked my lips, stealing a glance at him over my shoulder.
Alaric’s eyes smoldered as he looked at me. He lingered on my bare legs and the pleated floral skirt I wore. It made me want to press my thighs together, to try and contain the ache.
I shouldn’t want him. There was a lot about him I didn’t know. Like what his relationship with his daughter’s mother was. Maybe he was an adulterous dickhead, but still—my body craved him, and a part of me knew that wasn’t true. It couldn’t be.
Looking into his blue eyes, all I could see was his desire for me. Contained, but burning beneath the surface. It was…all-consuming. I’d never had someone look at me that way before, and it thrilled me while simultaneously terrifying me.
Clearing my throat, I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “How’s Tig?” I asked, deciding to go casual instead of asking the questions that blistered on the tip of my tongue.
“Great. He really took to Sawyer,” he replied, shaking his head as he leaned against my desk. He folded his muscular arms across his chest. “Slept against her door the first night, then beside her bed the second. If I’d have let him, he’d probably have slept in her bed with her. He wasn’t happy last night.”
“Why not?” I tilted my head, pressing the copy button. Although we were separated by two desks and ten feet, Alaric’s presence smashed into me like a monsoon. Every molecule between us was charged.
“Sawyer went back to her mother’s. Guess the dog missed her.” Alaric responded.
I wanted to grin, pleased that I hadn’t had to dig the answer out of him at all. He’d been honest, and I think it threw him off guard. He shifted, seeming a little uncomfortable with his admission.
He wasn’t with his daughter’s mother, and Alaric’s statement about how he wasn’t in a good place for a relationship made complete sense. He was just as bruised by love as I was, if not more. No wonder he hesitated.
Instead, I dialed it back a lot, giving him a slight smile. “Sounds like someone’s wagging his tail into your heart,” I teased, my blood thrumming in response to the way he looked at me.
“Maybe,” he responded, his gaze still fixated on me. I went back to my task, concentrating on keeping my hands from shaking.
I wanted to ask him more questions, peek inside him a little, but I bit them back, knowing they were far outside the scope of casual.
“So,” I said, returning his cards to him once I’d finished scanning and photocopying them. “How was it?”
“How was what?” he asked, his deep-rooted gaze still on my lips.
“The pizza? From the pizzeria?” I clarified, giving him a tiny half smile.
“Oh, yeah. It was good,” Alaric replied, his concentration on my lips never wavering. I burned beneath their intensity in the most euphoric of ways. It was baffling and enslaving.
“Just good?” I asked weakly, my thighs trembling through the suspended moment.
He leaned forward, just a little. “It was the best pizza I’ve ever eaten,” he clarified, his blue eyes—which I’d just realized had flecks of green within them—were locked on my face, and the innuendo wasn’t lost on me.
“Oh,” I breathed. Alaric was looking at me like he wanted to claim me. I’d seen that look before—several times during the night we spent together, but to my great disappointment…nothing happened. He remained three feet away; close enough to reach out and touch but far enough away that it couldn’t be mistaken as an accidental brush.
His lips twitched; he was fighting the sexual tension snapping between us, too. The realization made me giddy. “Mitch is probably waiting for me.”
“Yeah, probably. Good luck on the job site!” I said, backing away from him.
Alaric held my gaze for one lingering moment before leaving the office, and I sank heavily into my computer chair, my breathing labored.
I was worse than a schoolgirl with a crush. I got tongue-tied whenever he was around, and I didn’t know how to act or what to say around him.
He looked at me like he wanted to devour me, but he kept his distance. He had great restraint, better than me. If it were up to me, I’d have jumped his bones a hundred times by now.
But I was trying to play it cool, not frighten him off with my exuberance. I wanted to prove to him we could keep it casual, and I couldn’t do that if I appeared too over-eager.
Even though I was eager. Very eager.
He was enticing, and I wanted to get to know him more. I wouldn’t let myself go as far as to think of a relationship—I knew he was battered, just as I was, and I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted that.
I did, however, want to have mind-blowing sex on the regular, and I’d prefer to have it with him. I felt utterly and completely safe with him, and he turned me on more than anyone ever had before. I wanted more of that feeling because it fueled me.
If he was into the idea, it could work; we could totally be casual hook-up friends.
It was better than the other option, which was living with a constant lady boner, cursed to constantly have to look at the holy grail of penises and never have it again. I shivered, distraught at the possibility.
The metal door swung open, and I sat up straighter in my seat, hoping to catch another glimpse of Alaric. My shoulders dropped a fraction, but I smiled cordially at my dad. “Forget something?”
“Yes, your mother asked me to relay a message to you,” Dad scratched at his chin. “She wants you to come over for dinner tomorrow night.”
“Why didn’t she just call me?” I frowned, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. We were at work, after all.
“She says you never call her back,” Dad replied with the corner of his lip curling up. “Dinner’s at six.”
“All right,” I sighed. I’d actually managed to avoid dinners at my parents’ house for three weeks, which was pretty impressive, but if I held out any longer, Mom would show up at my place or worse—here.
“Excellent,” Dad said, turning to head back to the shop. “Oh, coordinate a meeting with George for Thursday morning, would you?”
“On it,” I replied with a nod, my gaze returning to my computer screen.
Alaric
I hadn’t wanted to leave that office, hadn’t wanted to stop talking to her or looking at her. But there was work to be done, and I didn’t want to keep Mitch waiting. I’d left, with the mountainous pile of words still sitting heavily on my tongue.
Although Mitch had seemed friendly enough when I met him earlier that morning, after hearing from Gwen how rare it was to score a position on the installation team so early on into my employment here, the pressure had doubled.
Mitch was already waiting in the work truck when I stepped outside. He seemed like a jovial guy in his mid-fifties with salt and pepper hair and a beard trimmed close to his face. His dark shred eyes seemed to miss nothing, and I’d heard whispers from other guys in the shop that he was a lot like Russell—kind of tough to impress.
We were all set to go work on a church restoration in the city, the truck loaded with supplies.
When I ran my own shop, we did a few projects for other trades companies, but nothing like what I’d be handling today, although I had my working at heights certificate.
I’d have to climb rafters and be tied off, and my stomach was tight with nerves. I didn’t like heights, never had, but I’d deal. I’d get the job done, and I’d do it right.
Two men were sitting in the back, and when I climbed in, Mitch handled the introductions.
“Guys, this is Alaric Petersen. Alaric, that’s Rob—“ he said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, at the red-headed guy behind him, “and that’s Brandon,” he nodded at the second guy.
“Hey, man,” the guy behind Mitch, Rob, nodded in greeting.
“Sup?” Brandon asked, barely looking up from his phone.
“Don’t let these two knuckleheads fool you, they’re actually hard workers,” Mitch gibed, a friendly grin on his weathered face.
“Thanks, mini-boss, that’s a compliment coming from you,” Rob retorted, and Mitch laughed deeply before he put the truck in gear.
“So, how do you like Williams’ Tech?” Mitch asked as we left the shop parking lot.
“I’m enjoying it,” I replied, meaning it. There was something new to do every day, and it was always challenging—engaging.
“What do you think of Gwen?” Rob interjected, looking between Mitch and me with a glint in his eyes. Mitch remained focused on the road, turning onto the westbound onramp.
“Seems nice.” I shrugged, keeping my tone apathetic. Disengaged.
“She’s hot, huh?” Brandon added, smirking a little. I said nothing. I was busy trying to keep my hands from curling into fists.
I didn’t like shop talk—didn’t like participating in it or overhearing it, but when it was centered around Gwen—well, it made me want to punch the little punks straight in the teeth. She didn’t deserve to be spoken about like she was some prized filly at the county fair.
“Have some respect. Gwen’s a nice girl,” Mitch scolded, giving Brandon and Rob a hard look through the rearview mirror.
“Oh, I’ll respect her. I’ll respect her good.” Rob smirked, sitting back in his seat.
“You’re too much of a chicken shit to respect her good,” Brandon tossed back, laughing.
The anger and flash of possessiveness that rolled around in my stomach were unnerving, and I bit down on my tongue to prevent from imploding. But never had I wanted to deck somebody so much before.
We pulled up to the shop around six o’clock. I didn’t have to look to know that Gwen was long gone, and I tried to ignore the disappointment that settled when I realized I wouldn’t get to see her.
Thankfully, Gwen’s name hadn’t come up again that day, and I fervently hoped it wouldn’t be a regular thing, or I’d have a hell of a time biting my tongue. It was boorish behaviour, and it enraged me.
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