by Jiffy Kate
As soon as Deacon walks into the office and slams the door behind him, I lay into him.
“What the fuck, Deke? You can’t talk to me like that in front of our staff! You have a beef with me, you save it until we’re alone. You’re not the boss of me, remember?”
“I know that, man, but you can’t be strollin’ in here when you’re over thirty minutes late like it’s no big deal. It’s unprofessional. I know you and I are pretty relaxed with our shifts but I’ve been here all day and I want to get home to my family. All you had to do was call or text me to let me know.”
I hate it when he’s right.
I sit at my desk and set my burger down, admitting defeat. “All right, I get it and I’m sorry. I should’ve let you know I was runnin’ late but I promise, it was worth it.”
Deacon crosses his arms and gives me a look that says he doesn’t believe me one bit. It’s time to bite the bullet and tell him about my deal with Alex.
Before speaking, I mentally do the sign of the cross, and pray he doesn’t lose his shit again.
“I had a meeting with Alex.” I spit the words out and let them hang in the air, watching his face for any kind of reaction. The only change in his demeanor is the flare of his nostrils. He’s giving me the same look he used to give our opponents on the football field in high school. The same look that would make lesser men run off crying to their mamas, no matter how old they are.
I’m so fucked.
“Please tell me you’re referring to Rush guitar wizard, Alex Lifeson. Alexander Hamilton is dead and Alex P. Keaton is a fictional character, and I can’t think of any other “Alex” that would be worth being late to work for.”
“Come on, Deke, you know who I mean. Just hear me out. It’s all good, I swear!”
He leans against the office door and narrows his eyes at me. “Enlighten me,” he demands.
“We’re going into business together and opening a restaurant in New Orleans. Right in the Quarter!” I can’t hide the excitement in my voice if I tried, I don’t care how pissed off Deacon is.
I watch as my brother’s shoulders begin to shake with laughter. To the untrained eye, it would appear to be a genuine reaction but I know better. This is bad—real bad.
Deacon wipes his eyes and clears his throat. “I’m sorry, man. I could’ve sworn you said we were going into business with Alex and I couldn’t help but laugh. I mean, the hilarity of that situation, you know? Us partnering up with her? I don’t care who you are, that’s just funny. Especially, since we’ve already had this conversation and I already said no.”
“Whatever, Deke. You know you heard me. Why are you bein’ such a dick about this? It’s a great opportunity for us.”
“No, it’s a great opportunity for you,” he argues.
“And why is that so bad? You have this place, why can’t I have something, too?”
“Grinders is for both of us and so was Pockets. We need to be focusing on rebuilding, not running off to New Orleans. Do you know how hard it is to open a new place in that city and keep it open? It’s nearly impossible and, yet, you want to take a risk like that with a troublemaker like Alex Collins. Unbelievable.”
“You know I love Grinders and Pockets but there’s nothing wrong with expanding. Opening in New Orleans has always been my dream. You’re just pissed she came to me and not you.”
“Ha! She came to you because she knows I won’t have anything to do with her. Plus, you two have a history that I’m sure she’s banking on using for her advantage.”
“Bullshit. She knows about me and Dani and she’s been nothing but professional with me. The deal is legit and I’m going to take it. It’s up to you whether or not you can let go of an immature grudge against Alex and join us.”
“Micah, please, tell me you’re not serious about this? We can do Nola another time, I promise. We need to stay close to home right now . . . I need to stay close to home.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
Before he can answer, there’s a knock on the office door. Kara, one of our head servers, opens the door and sticks her head inside. “Sorry to interrupt but we’re having some issues with one of the credit card machines. Can you help, Deacon?”
“Sure, no problem,” he says to her. Turning to me, he points his finger. “This conversation isn’t over, got it? Don’t you fucking sign anything until we hash this out.” He storms out of the room without giving me a chance to reply.
Asshole.
Who the hell does Deacon think he is?
He may be my big brother but he sure as hell ain’t my daddy. I know he’s always looked out for me in the past but I can’t help but feel like he’s trying to hold me back for other reasons now. It pissed me off that he doesn’t trust my judgement or have enough faith in me to make the right decision. Maybe he’s jealous. Maybe he’s bitter. I don’t know. What I do know is I can’t live in his shadow for the rest of my life. I have to think about my future and my dreams and, if that means going against my brother, then that’s what I’ll do.
Deacon leaves early, leaving me to clean-up and close the place down. I spend the time stewing over our argument. I can probably count on one hand the times Deacon and I have really fought over something. Sure, we’ve had our fair share of disagreements. Starting restaurants from the ground up gave us a lot of opportunities to have differing opinions, but this is different. In all the times we argued over something with the restaurants, we were still on the same side, wanting the same things.
A tap on the wall of the office pulls me out of my thoughts and messes up my tally for the front register. I let out a frustrated sigh and look up to see an apologetic Kara standing in the doorway.
“Sorry, boss. Just wanted to let you know that everything is done and Joe and I are leaving.”
“Thanks, Kara.”
When I hear the back door close, I put everything on the desk into the safe and call it a night. I can’t count numbers or think about any of this shit anymore tonight.
I need a drink.
After shutting all the lights off and locking up, instead of going to my truck, I go to the bar across the street. Frank, my favorite bartender, is drying a few glasses and some stragglers are still hanging out at the bar. I sit down and nod to Frank, knowing he’ll know exactly what I’m here for.
“Jack on the rocks,” he says, sliding a glass of pale amber in front of me.
“Thanks, Frank.”
“Tough crowd tonight?” he asks.
“You could say that.” I pick up the glass and toss back the contents in one large gulp, sliding it back to him. “I’ll take another.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Yeah,” I reply, looking around the dimly lit bar. The guy at the end is half asleep, nodding off into his beer. There’s a couple over in the corner needing a room and a couple of frat boys shooting darts. Why am I here?
I should be home with Dani. She’s probably asleep already and if she’s not, she’s getting worried that I’m not back to the apartment yet.
Frank sets another drink down in front of me. “Wanna talk about it?”
Bartenders are basically underpaid therapists, so I decide to get a few things off my chest before going home to Dani. Maybe because I feel like if I tell her about mine and Deke’s fight she’ll worry, or maybe because I think she’ll take his side.
I tell Frank all about the restaurant opportunity and my disagreement with Deacon. Knowing both of us pretty well, Frank whistles and shakes his head. “You sure you wanna go into something like this without Deacon?” he asks.
“No,” I tell him truthfully, finally allowing myself to filter through my mixed emotions. “But if he’s not onboard, I don’t think I can pass it up, either.”
Frank nods and goes back to drying glasses that look like they were already dry to begin with. Maybe he does it out of habit or to give his hands something to do while he’s standing behind the bar giving advice.
“Well, I guess you gotta do what�
�s good for you, then.”
“That’s what I’m thinkin’.”
He walks away, checking on the snoozing guy at the end of the bar and I decide it’s time to head home. I take out a twenty and tuck it under my empty glass.
When I leave the bar, I don’t walk back across the street to get my truck, not because I’m drunk, but because I feel like the cool October night might help me clear my head a little before I get home to Dani.
SLIPPING INTO BED BESIDE DANI, I gently wrap my arms around her waist and pull myself closer to her, breathing in her sweet scent. She always smells like pie or bread or cookies, whatever she’s been in the kitchen baking while I’ve been gone. Usually, if she doesn’t stop by and bring me something, the first thing I do when I get home is check the kitchen for a treat. But tonight, I came straight to bed, needing to be close to her, feel her, hold her.
She’s home to me now. She’s what soothes my frayed edges, calms my fears, and makes things right in my world.
I used to think home was a place. Until I met Dani. Now, I realize home is more about people than a structure.
She stirs beside me and as much as I want to be with her, make love to her and use her to wash away the craziness of the day, I don’t want to wake her. So instead, I kiss her softly.
“I’m home, baby,” I whisper, kissing her forehead. “Go back to sleep.”
But I can’t. Even with the comfort of Dani curled up beside me. I can’t turn off my brain.
Maybe another reason I don’t want Dani to wake up is because I don’t want to tell her about the fight with Deacon yet. What if she agrees with him? What if she thinks it’s a bad idea? Will I back out on Alex?
I toy around with all of that for a while, checking the blue lights on the alarm clock a few times.
Over an hour passes before I come to the conclusion that if Dani didn’t want me to go into business with Alex, I wouldn’t. Because at the end of the day, all I want is her. So, if that were something that would drive a wedge between us, I’d say no in a heartbeat.
As the sun rises and the bright rays fill the bedroom, I pat the cold sheets beside me, searching for Dani. But she’s not there.
That’s when I hear the clang of pans coming from the kitchen and I smile.
Bacon.
Pancakes.
Because it’s Saturday, and that’s what we do on Saturdays.
Quietly shuffling out of bed, I slide on a pair of sweatpants and walk into the kitchen to find Dani spraying down a skillet and then using the can as a microphone. She’s lip-synching something from her pink earbuds and swaying her leopard-clad ass to the beat. The panties she’s wearing are my favorites. They show the cup of her ass and make it so hard to resist. Harder than normal.
And that goes for my dick.
But I tell him to simmer down, because I’m not finished watching the show. My own personal Sheridan Reed Show.
Her red hair is tossed haphazardly on top of her head and she stops for a second to strike a pose. This must be the grand finale, and I’m not gonna lie, I’m ready for a grand finale of my own.
When I begin to slow clap, she whirls around with a spatula in one hand and laughs, but I can tell I caught her off guard.
“What are you doing standin’ there?” she asks, her lips twisting into a smile and her cheeks begin to flush.
She’s embarrassed and I fucking love it.
“Oh, just gettin’ myself a show first thing in the morning. Best way to start the day, if you ask me,” I tell her, stalking forward while she takes a step back, bumping into the counter. “I was thinking maybe we could have a little encore and I can get in on the action?”
Her lips graze the stubble on my jaw as she leans into me. “That’s gonna cost you,” she says in a husky tone.
“I’m more than willin’ to pay up,” I tell her, scooping her up and sitting her ass on the counter. I take her free hand and place it on my cock so she knows just how willing I am.
She smiles slyly, biting down on her lip as she strokes up and down my length. “That seems to be substantial enough.”
“Oh, it’s substantial, alright.”
“Show me,” she demands, her feet coming up to work my sweatpants off my hips. I do the same to her panties, yanking them off and dropping them unceremoniously on the kitchen floor.
Pulling her ass to the edge, I rub my length through her wetness, making sure she’s ready for me. After a few seconds, Dani’s hands are on my shoulders, forcing me forward. “Just put it in,” she commands. “Fuck.”
“If you say so,” I tell her, a smile on my lips as I watch her eyes go wide when I comply.
Tossing her head back with a sigh of pleasure, she exposes her slender neck and I devour it as I thrust into her.
Kitchen sex is top of my list.
I love watching Dani fall apart and with her perched on the counter, I get a front row seat. The light coming in from the windows of our apartment paint her in a beautiful warm glow. Her mouth hangs open as she braces herself against me, allowing the ecstasy to take her over.
“You feel so good,” I tell her, wanting to stay here forever. Not just here, in this kitchen making love to the most beautiful girl in the world, but with her. Wherever she is, that’s where I want to be.
When Dani begins to shake from her approaching orgasm, I lose myself in her, following her with my own release.
I hold her to me while she descends from the clouds. Tilting her chin, I look into her dreamy, sated eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you.” Holding my face firmly, she kisses me with everything she has in her.
“What do you want to do today?” I ask, helping her down from the counter.
Picking her panties up off the floor and sliding them back up her gorgeous legs, she tosses her hair over her shoulder and smiles. “Besides round two?”
“Yeah, and pancakes, of course.” I fight my grin as I try to keep from tackling her to the ground. I swear, it’s a miracle that we live productive lives because if it was up to me, she’d always be naked.
“I don’t know. What’d you have in mind?” Turning the heat back on the stove, she goes about her business of making breakfast.
“I thought maybe I’d take you to Death Valley today. There’s a home game and we’ve got season tickets that always go unused.”
“Okay,” she says with a bright smile. “I’d love that.”
“Awesome.”
I just need to be with her. It’s been a crazy couple of months since Dani moved here. So, today, I want it to be about me and her. I know Death Valley isn’t the best idea for an intimate date, just me, my girl, and 100,000 crazy football fans but I promised Dani when she moved here that I’d show her all the things that matter to me. And LSU football is definitely one of those things we haven’t had the time to mark off our list. Today, being a day game, will be the perfect opportunity.
Thanks to my dad’s parking pass that I jacked from him after I found out no one was using the tickets this weekend, we didn’t have to park a country mile away from the stadium.
Holding Dani’s hand, I smile over at her, feeling so perfectly content.
“This is my favorite look.” Her smile widens.
“What look?” I ask, confused at her statement.
“This.” She motions with her hand, from my feet to my head. “LSU hat, t-shirt, jeans, boots—it’s what made me totally fall for you.”
“What?” This is the first I’ve ever heard of this, but I want to know more. Anything about Sheridan Reed falling for me is my favorite story.
“Yeah, the day you showed me around the plantation, you showed up just like this and I could hardly form coherent sentences.”
I laugh lightly, shaking my head. “And here I thought it was the first night we met in the parking lot of the motel.”
“Ugh,” she says and I can hear the roll of her eyes. “I might’ve thought you were hot, with your freshly fucked head of hair and half-dressed state, but no.”
I laugh, loving getting under her skin. I don’t like bringing up old flings, but sometimes it’s worth it just to see Dani’s temper flare.
“Why’d you have to remind me of that?” she huffs.
“So you’d do that.” I cock an eyebrow, pointing to the scowl on her gorgeous face.
“I swear, I don’t know why I put up with your shit sometimes.” The teasing tone is back in her voice and I pull her to me, giving her a very public display of affection. It elicits a few whoops and hollers from fellow fans, but most are too engrossed in their festivities to pay attention to us.
She’s wearing one of my LSU hats and one of my shirts tied up on the side.
Have I mentioned she’s the most beautiful girl in the world?
Well, she is, and today she looks exceptionally beautiful. Maybe it’s the bright smile on her face or the glow of her skin or just the fact that she’s standing here with me, getting ready to go into one of my favorite places on earth.
The parking lot is full of fans who’ve probably been tailgating since the sun came up and the smells of grilled meat and beer fill the air. Some fans come just to party in the parking lot and bring TVs to watch the game from outside. Never doubt the loyalty of an LSU Tiger.
“So, you know how the game works, right, Chuck?” I ask her, handing our tickets to the guy to scan them.
She smiles up at me again, giving me a nudge for the use of her nickname. I look down to see that she’s wearing her Converse and I make a mental note to keep an extra tight hold on her hand, just in case she starts tripping over imaginary cracks in the pavement.
“Of course.” She laughs, shaking her head. I’m assuming she’s having the same flashback I am, to the first night she walked into Pockets. She was this city girl invading my space. I didn’t want to admit the attraction I had to her from the first second I laid eyes on her. She collided with a tray of pockets. I helped her off the ground and recognized her from the night before. I had seen her in the parking lot of the local motel. I was finishing up with Val and she was checking me out. She might not admit to it, but I saw the way she took inventory of me. It wasn’t until the night at Pockets that I gave her the nickname, though. After the pocket incident, she came out of the bathroom and practically tripped over her own two feet. Her reasoning was because she was more accustomed to walking in heels. Something about training herself to not fall in them, but when she’s in her Chucks, her defenses are down and she’s not quite as graceful. So, Chuck it was. When she made it obvious that the name bothered her, there was no turning back. I admit, I like to tease. And teasing Dani is even better. She smirks and scowls and gets that evil look in her eye. It’s hot as shit. But now, I think she likes the nickname, as long as I don’t overdo it, I usually get by with a little nudge or shove.
