Can't Get Enough

by Molly McLain

  He made a noncommittal sound, waved her in. She dropped her bag in the living room and bent to retie one of her sneakers.

  Sweet mother of God. Were those cheeks peeking out? And where exactly was her panty line?

  “You ready to go?” She stood, smiled innocently, and thumbed toward the basement door.

  Whose idea was it that they work out together anyway? “Uh, yeah. Let me grab some water.”

  “Okay. I’m gonna head down. I like your hair, by the way. Looks sexy.” She took off down the stairs and he threw his head back and groaned.

  Way to go, dumb fuck. Way. To. Go.

  ***

  Somehow he made it through not watching Nicole’s ass as she ran on the treadmill, another shit-astic meeting about the courthouse, and a slightly awkward hello-goodbye exchange of Brianna when he arrived home at the end of the day. Ally was apparently waiting for Nicole at her grandmother’s, ready to dig into another round of de-cluttering. Instead of sticking around for small talk, Nicole gathered her things, kissed Brianna on the head, and told him she’d left dinner in the fridge before she ran out the door.

  He found the chicken salad, croissants, and some kind of vegetable pasta thing wrapped up all neat next to a bowl of fruit salad. She’d attached a sticky note that read, Healthier than leftover pizza. See you at 5 a.m., country boy.

  Country boy, huh? He grinned like a fool and dug into the food like he hadn’t eaten in days. Then he and Bri made a quick trip to Walmart for diapers and baby food. He almost escaped the madhouse unscathed, only to bump into Shannon’s friend Laura in the parking lot. He’d seen her around the area a few times recently and rumor was she was getting serious with one of his old high school buddies. When she was with Travis, Laura had been sweet and she’d cooed all over Bri. Tonight, however, she turned her nose up at his choice of diapers—apparently not the brand Shannon had used—and criticized the way he’d bundled Bri.

  On the drive home, he kept replaying her snide comment. “Jesus, Tony, it’s not fucking snowing, give the girl some room to breathe.”

  He was pissed off and exhausted. Thankfully Bri was too, so he put her to bed and collapsed on the couch with a beer in hand and a chip on his shoulder.

  A knock sounded on his front door thirty seconds later.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” He pushed to his feet, grumbling.

  “Dude, you look rough.” Mark stood on the porch with a smug look on his face.

  “What do you want?” Tony snapped at his cousin, because he was too annoyed to entertain. Even if all he had to do was listen to Mark brag about his on-again-off-again love fest with Ally.

  But Mark’s grin faded, replaced by a seriousness Tony didn’t like. Nope, not about Ally this time. Shit. “Talked to Mom today. She said Aunt Grace hasn’t been feeling well, so they took her to the doctor. I guess they ran a bunch of tests on her heart. Knowing Gracie, she hasn’t told you yet, has she?”

  Tony leaned against the door frame and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Of course his mother hadn’t told him. They talked every couple days, even visited every couple weekends, but would she tell him she wasn’t feeling well? Not a chance. She’d say he had too much on his plate already.

  “Aunt Ann will let you know when they hear something?” His mom lived with her also widowed sister-in-law, Mark’s mother, in Hastings. She’d moved there a few years ago after Tony’s father died and their family home went back to the bank.

  Tony and Mark now stood on the porch of that very same home. In a karmic twist of events, he’d been able to buy the place back. He thought his mother would be happy as hell, but she still hadn’t come home. Not that he expected her to move in with him, but he hoped she’d at least visit.

  “Yep, but you might want to call her yourself. You know how forgetful Mom is.”

  Tony nodded. “Yeah, I’ll do that. Thanks for dropping by.”

  Mark narrowed his eyes and Tony took a step back, hoping to close the door and avoid the inquisition he felt coming. Didn’t work. His cousin shouldered his way into the foyer and stuck his hands on his hips. “What’s going on, man? You really do look like shit.”

  “Thanks, Mr. fucking Universe.”

  Mark’s eyes swept down at his sheriff’s uniform, complete with the Kevlar, utility belt and weapons that could make even the most disheveled of men look like fierce, untouchable warriors. Especially to women. “I bet that pretty new babysitter of yours would think so.”

  The back of Tony’s neck began to burn, but he ignored it and stalked off to the kitchen for another beer. “Yeah, I bet she would.”

  “I heard you had Rob do some digging.”

  “Hey, she agreed to it.” Cracking open the bottle, he made a show of taking a nice long pull for his on-duty relative.

  Mark flipped him off. “I’ve seen her around a couple times. She seems—”

  “Seriously, man, she’s watching Bri and that’s it. Don’t bother fishing for a juicy story, because there ain’t one.” So maybe they flirted a little. And maybe she’d shown up wearing those tiny shorts. Didn’t mean something was going on. And if it were, he sure as hell wasn’t going to share the details.

  “Why not?”

  Swallowing down a gulp of beer, Tony shot the other man a distasteful frown. “Why?”

  “Because you’re miserable and lonely.” Mark didn’t even blink when he said the word most men wouldn’t be caught dead saying, let alone having a conversation about. “Don’t get me wrong—you’re doing great with Brianna—but you could use someone to share the responsibility with. This woman seems nice enough. And she’s exactly your type.”

  Tony squeezed the bottle in his hand and stared at his feet. When he spoke, the grit in his voice was audible even to his own ears. “First of all, there’s nothing wrong with me. Second, I’m handling the responsibility better than you could, so fuck off, okay? Third, Nicole’s great and there’s no denying she’s gorgeous, but the last time you pointed out a woman you thought was my type, she ended up pregnant and behind bars ten months later.”

  “Yeah, well I thought you’d at least be smart and use—”

  “I was fucking smart! I’ve always been smart. But shit happens sometimes. Fate had other plans for me and here I am, trying to figure out what the hell to do about it.” He paused when he realized he’d raised his voice enough to risk waking up Bri. “I’ve done a lot more than most guys in my position would do,” he added in a lower tone. “So please...don’t come knocking on my door telling me I could do better. I already fucking know that. I live with it every goddamn day.”

  “Tony...” Mark pushed a hand through his hair. “That’s not what I meant at all, man. I’m just saying you’ve been spending a lot of time trying to nail this single dad gig. You haven’t done a thing for yourself in months. Maybe doing the babysitter isn’t the best option. In fact, the more I think about it, it’s a terrible idea. But my point is that you’ve gotta cut yourself some slack. Unload a little. Do something for you.”

  What the hell was with everyone all of the sudden? “When I find time, I’ll be sure to get on that.”

  Mark sighed. “Okay, whatever. Don’t say I didn’t try to help.”

  Tony watched the man who was more like an older brother stalk toward the front door. A small part of him felt like an ass, because he knew his cousin only wanted the best for him. But the rest of him wasn’t sure he was ready to shift gears and try a different approach to juggling his needs with those of his daughter. He barely had a handle on things as they were—he wasn’t sure he could deal with another change.

  Mark shut the door behind him when he left and Tony braced both hands on the counter, chin to chest. He pulled in deep breath after deep breath until his ears rang and the world blackened a little around the edges.

  Brianna wasn’t due for a weekend visit with Shannon’s family until the following weekend, but he was pretty sure his aunt would be agreeable to helping his mom keep Bri overnight on Friday
. It’d be a good excuse to drop in on Grace and see for himself what was going on with her. In fact, if he skipped out of work early, he could run over to Hastings to drop Bri off and be back in enough time to catch his buddies from his former Marine Reserve unit that were coming to town to see Josh out of the Corp. It’d be good to see the old crew again. Share a few beers and bullshit stories about their time overseas.

  And it’d get everyone off his dick about becoming a stick-in-the-mud.

  Finishing off his beer, he decided the plan was at least a small step in the right direction. But tonight he’d met his threshold of crap, so he clicked off the TV he hadn’t watched and called it a night.

  He pulled off his t-shirt as he moved down the hall toward the bedroom, blindly tossing it into the darkened laundry room as he passed by. And then he stopped short.

  He didn’t have any clean jeans for work tomorrow.

  Shit. So much for grabbing an extra hour of sleep and putting the conversation with Mark out of his mind.

  Cursing under his breath, he spun around and began to loosen his belt. As he flipped on the light switch next to the washing machine, he started concocting a list of all the reasons he should’ve punched Mark in the face for butting into his business, but they all came crashing down around him when he spotted the piles of folded clothes sitting on top of the dryer. Jeans, t-shirts, socks...even underwear.

  Holy shit.

  That wildfire sensation crept up the back of his neck again, followed quickly by that same feeling of unexpected relief that had churned in his gut earlier when he’d found the dinner Nicole had left him. Such a simple gesture, yet so much more.

  He had his phone in his hand and dialed before he could think better of it.

  ***

  With an envious, but contented sigh, Nicole tossed the paperback she finally finished onto the bed next her. In the end, Jake ended up making Vivian the most orgasmic woman on the planet and Nicole was back to wondering if there were any hot bartenders in River Bend.

  Pushing out of bed, she went to the kitchen for a glass of water before calling it a night. Between her and Ally, they’d destroyed the room by laying out the china, the silverware, the pots and pans, and other miscellaneous ware on every available surface. She literally had to step over boxes and stacks in order to get to the fridge. While the place was a mess, the good news was that Ally suspected Nicole could make a nice chunk of change to help fund her new life.

  Leaning against the counter, she sipped her water and mentally recapped the list of repairs she’d yet to conquer. The step at the top of the stairs was an accident waiting to happen, the lock on the front door didn’t work, the window in the master bedroom was cracked and currently duct taped, and the old—probably original—hardwood floors were in need of some major TLC.

  She hadn’t a clue how to fix any of the above on her own, but it wasn’t like she could afford to hire anyone either. Maybe she could ask Tony to help with the lock since it was a safety issue. Nothing more though. She refused to take away from his time with Brianna.

  Tony.

  A delicious shiver ran from the base of her neck down the length of her spine. All day her mind kept going back to him curling free weights, his biceps and forearms bulging. When he’d squatted with the weight bar on his shoulders, his thighs had done this amazing ripple/flex thing that....mmm. What did his butt look like in that position? Tomorrow she’d get behind him during that part of the workout so she could accurately assess the situation.

  What was he doing right now? She imagined him stretched out on the couch watching TV, with one arm folded behind his head, muscles all thick and tight. In her mind’s eye, he was shirtless, smooth pecs tapering to tight, chiseled abs, and he was wearing a snug pair of boxer briefs—the kind she knew with certainty he wore. His free hand, big and calloused, crept lower, inching toward an impressive erection that threatened to break free—

  “Holy crap.” She clenched her eyes shut and shook her head, like the gesture might wipe away the image as easily as an Etch-a-Sketch.

  But nope, it didn’t. Because she was crushing on her boss in a big way. Or at the very least, lusting after him like a horny coed.

  Her phone rang in the distance and she grimaced. Derek again? He’d only texted five unanswered times today. Or maybe it was Tony. Bri could be sick again...

  She set the glass on the counter, leapt over the boxes in her path, and sprinted up the stairs for the phone. A glance at the caller ID had her happy dancing. “Hey you,” she said, out of breath.

  “Nicole,” Tony replied simply and she couldn’t read enough of his tone with that single word.

  Regardless, she nibbled at her lip to keep from giggling at the sound of his voice, as any twenty-seven-year woman channeling a preteen would do. “Is everything okay? Bri’s not feverish again, is she?”

  “Bri’s fine. She went to bed early.”

  Okay then. “So...what’s up?” Booty call? After her little fantasy moment in the kitchen, she might be game.

  “You did my laundry,” he said flatly, and she froze.

  She’d invaded his personal space and he was pissed. Shit. “I’m sorry. I—”

  “You folded my underwear.”

  Yep, she had. Underwear that he’d worn. On his junk. She pinched her eyes shut. Way to be mature, Nicole. “I got it. I’m really sorry, Tony. I won’t—”

  “I’m not mad, Nicole.”

  Thank God.

  “But...” He broke off, then tried again. “Look, you don’t need to do that kind of stuff. I hired you to take care of Bri, not pick up after me.”

  “It wasn’t a big deal. I had plenty of time on Monday afternoon and Bri looked like she was getting low on pajamas, so...”

  “You did the laundry on Monday?”

  “Uh-huh.” And a little bit yesterday, too, but she wouldn’t tell him that.

  “It’s Wednesday. Fuck. I didn’t even notice. And Bri would’ve run out of clothes if you hadn’t...” A harsh sigh sounded in her ear.

  Well, crap. “Tony, I didn’t mind. Really. I didn’t do it because I thought you wouldn’t. I just wanted to help.”

  His heavy breath crackled the air between them and she went from worried about disappointing him to be worried for him. He was doing such an amazing job with Brianna. Too bad he didn’t see it that way.

  “I’m not the kind of guy who asks for help,” he said and her pulse sped up again.

  Ask me. Please.

  “But...I need help.”

  Any day of the week. “Whatever you need.”

  His brusque laugh sent goose bumps across her bare skin and her cheeks flushed hot again. Not humiliated heat.

  “You know, with laundry or dinner. Even grocery shopping or doctor appointments once my car is fixed,” she rushed to add. Her body might be all in for whatever, but her brain, when it worked, knew better.

  “I’ll pay you extra for whatever else you do,” he said in a more serious tone and she sagged in both relief and disappointment.

  “No, you won’t. Friends, remember?”

  “Exactly. Friends. Maybe there’ll be something I can do to help you out someday.”

  “You don’t need to.”

  “I want to.” He gave a heavy sigh. “Thank you, Nicole.”

  “You’re welcome.” She wet her lips and rubbed her fingertips against her chest. “So I’ll see you in the morning?”

  “Yup.” He hesitated again. “You realize this is becoming a habit, right?”

  “What is?”

  “Us saying goodnight.”

  I like it. “Then don’t call or text me tomorrow night. Geez.”

  He chuckled softly. “Goodnight, Nicole.”

  “’Night, Tony.”

  Chapter Ten

  On Thursday night, Nicole sat cross-legged in the middle of the braided rug at the foot of her grandmother’s bed. A box of letters she’d found in the closet sat nestled in her lap, while the wind howled outside, blowing autumn a l
ittle further into west central Nebraska.

  Nicole sighed. What she wouldn’t give to be in Chicago right now, hunkering down for the winter in her new apartment. Instead, she was here in River Bend, playing curator and archivist, sometimes trash attendant, to what had been some six-plus decades of her grandparents’ life.

  The broken window behind her whistled as the wind continued pushing against the house, and Nicole shivered at the slight breeze. Clearly the duct tape wasn’t working on the crack. In fact, whoever had thought taking the lazy way out instead of just fixing the damn thing was now on Nicole’s shit list.

  She couldn’t imagine Gran lying in bed with the winter wind ruffling her wispy white hair. Grandpa, from what she could tell in his love letters, wouldn’t have approved either. She’d never known the man—he’d died before she was born—but she knew he would’ve hated her grandmother living like this. Just like Nicole hated the thought of it now.

  The walls creaked against the gusts outside and Nicole grimaced. She’d hoped to put the repair off until she’d cleaned the clutter out of the room, but given the quickly changing weather, she’d probably need to bump it up on the to-do list.

  A high-pitched whistle sounded again, this time followed by the unmistakable tinkle of splintering glass. Crap. She glanced over her shoulder and watched the glass crack in a half-dozen different directions, like a spider growing legs. She jumped to her feet, thankful that it didn’t shatter completely, but with the unrelenting wind, it was only a matter of time.

  Shoot, shoot, shoot. Her mind scrambled for a quick solution, but at eight o’clock in the evening, there wasn’t anyone she could Google without having to pay a ridiculous after-hours home visit fee.

  Hmm. She recalled seeing a large sheet of cardboard in the garage and maybe if she was careful, she could tack it up to keep the wind out at least. Only problem was...she didn’t have anything to tack it up with.

  She’d bet Tony had something. A hammer probably. And some nails. Heck, even more duct tape would help at this point.

  She hated to bother him, but doing something about the window now would be preferable than at three in the morning, when the wind finally did it in for good.