“Your mom is lovely.” I climb into my seat and buckle up as I’m talking. He is already in the driver’s seat, ready to go. “She really enjoyed feeding the baby.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen her that happy in a long time. You did something wonderful today. Did you see the light in her eyes when Aaron was in her lap and she was able to feed him?”
“I’m glad I could help,” I say sheepishly. I’m not used to this much praise in one day. In one month, really.
“You changed her life forever. She told me before we left it was her best day in a long time, and to make sure I keep you. She expects to see you Friday.” He reaches over and holds my hand. “Will you come with me on Friday?”
“Of course I’ll come. Who is going to tie the pillowcases?” I tease. “However, I want my donut next time.” Our fingers intertwine like braided ribbon. The heat from his hand runs up my arm to warm my heart.
“That’s an impossibility, Fridays are breakfast sandwiches and coffee.”
“Oh…I’m not sure, then. If I have to settle for breakfast sandwiches, then I’m going to need something else to sweeten the pot.”
“Now you’re getting greedy. I’ll see what I can come up with to sweeten the deal.”
Before I realize it, we are back to our side of town. He pulls up in front of my room and parks. Racing to my side of the car, he swings open the door and helps me out. I take his hand as he pulls me out of my seat and into his arms. I crumble against his warm chest. He lifts me up onto my tiptoes and kisses me senseless.
“I expect to see you at the bar in an hour or less. Bring your computer. You can work from there. I’ll clean out a quiet corner for you.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll work here.”
He sets me down and looks at me sternly.
“Alexa, I’m not asking you. I’m telling you to be at the bar within an hour.” He leans over and gives me sweet little peck on the lips. “I want to feed you so you don’t eat some microwave shit from a can.”
He turns away from me, hops in the car, and drives away. I stare after him and wonder if people buy into this bossy side of him. It doesn’t matter that he is bossy. It doesn’t matter that we have only kissed and not taken things further. In fact, it makes it all the sweeter, as he has helped me feel good about myself. I feel validated, as if my ideas are gold. I felt accepted when his mom held me close and showed me how much she cared that I had come. I felt cherished when he told me I was no one’s background. This man is much more than I originally thought, and I feel so thankful he picked me up that day.
Against my better judgment, I pack up my computer and head on over to Last Resort. Actually, Last Resort is the first place I want to be.
Chapter Ten
True to his word, Zane cleared off the table in the corner. He poured me a Diet Coke and told me he asked Bud to make me bacon, eggs, and toast. It’s not Bud’s usual fare, so I’m wondering how good it can be. Can he even cook an egg? He looks more like a burger and fries guy.
Fifteen minutes later, he delivers my meal and joins me. I guess Bud is a master at everything. The eggs are cooked perfectly, the bacon crisp, and the toast lightly browned.
“Tell me what you’re working on,” he says as he dips his toast into the creamy golden yolk.
“It’s boring really, but the long and short of it is that this tax software is supposed to take you to different windows when you finish entries, and it’s failing to do that. It’s also using the wrong tax percentages. It’s not a big fix; in fact, I thought it would take me weeks, but I think I will have it done in a few days.” I pick up a piece of bacon and savor the salty crunch.
“Todd called me since he didn’t have your number. He left a message at the motel. He wanted me to tell you your car would be finished today. He is going to drop it off at the motel and bring you the keys.”
“Wow, that was quick. I thought he wouldn’t have it fixed until Friday.”
“I guess it was a slow week at the shop.” He glances up at me, and I see something in his eyes. Is it sadness or concern?
“Do you mind if I stick around for a while longer? I’d like to keep my job for a bit and see if Sugar Glen is actually really sweet. This gruff man told me when I arrived in town not to be fooled by the name. I’ve come to like it here and want to feel it out a bit before I make a hasty decision to leave.”
His smile starts small and broadens with every word. He bolts off his seat and grabs some type of paper from behind the counter. I look down and see a W-4 Form.
“You will have to fill one of these out. Since you are a permanent employee, I can invest a little more money in you. I require a year’s notice when you quit.” He can’t keep a straight face.
“I’ll take what you’re paying me now, and if I decide to leave, I will give you a two-week notice.”
“Hmm…I’ll pay you more, and we’ll negotiate later if you ever want to leave.”
“All right, now eat and leave me alone, I have to finish this if I want to get paid.” I fill out a W-4 Form while I finish my meal. I pass it over to my sexy-as-sin boss and focus on the task at hand.
“Your birthday is in two weeks. Let’s plan something special. How about we go on a date?”
“A date? That’s the second date you have asked me on today. Do you realize if you continue to be so sweet, the gruff disposition you try to pass off as your norm isn’t going to be believable?” I tilt my head and smirk in his direction. “Why is it you act so surly when you’re just a big teddy bear?”
“I am surly. Don’t take what you would consider sweet a sign of softness. I’m far from being a pushover, and I like to control everything around me.” Is that a warning, or is he just trying to re-establish his authority?
“Go away. You wanted me here. I’m doing what you wanted, now leave me be so I can work.”
He picks up our plates and begins to walk toward the kitchen. He gets a few steps away, then turns on his heel, comes back, and gives me a kiss.
“I’m just trying to sweeten the pot. You seem to have swindled more kisses out of me.”
“Are you saying you don’t want to kiss me? Is this your way of getting me to go to your mother’s Friday to tie the pillowcases?”
“I have to use anything I can, to get my way. Is it working?”
“Kiss me again, I need a sweeter pot. Then go away and leave me alone.”
He puts the plates down and pulls me into a kiss. His soft, sweet tongue dances with mine. He pulls away, leaving me breathless and wanting more—so much more.
I keep busy on my coding and finish what I had planned just in time for my shift to start. It’s a slow Wednesday night at the bar. I spend the extra time staring at Zane and trying to figure him out. I saunter over to the bar and sidle up to him. How has he managed to stay single? It’s not as if the women aren’t falling all over him wherever we go. More importantly, how did I ever catch his eye?
“What’s your story? Why is a good looking guy like you single?”
“I’m not. I have a smokin’ hot girlfriend I found on the side of the road. She lives in this dumpy motel across the street from me and has a penchant for crappy canned foods.”
I reach up and slug him in the arm. “Seriously, what is your story? I know why you came to Sugar Glen, but why are you single? What are you, like thirty?”
“Yep, I’m thirty. I had a girlfriend for a short time in California, but it didn’t work out. She wasn’t the one. It was good she was gone before I had to come here.” He looks around the bar. “She never would have been able to survive in this little Podunk town. She was high maintenance and low tolerance.” He laughs to himself. “I can’t imagine what she would have said if I had a child. I don’t think she liked kids. She acted too much like one to want one.”
“That’s too bad. What attracted you to her?” I’m curious what would make this man date a girl who sounds like a nightmare.
He gives me that Are you really going to ask me that? loo
k.
“What do you think I was attracted to? I liked her for her brain, of course.” He shakes his head and walks away.
I pick up the wet dish rag and throw it at him. He catches it mid-air, and in less than five steps he is next to me. I am lifted off my feet and held up in the air.
“Did you just throw a dirty wet rag at me? You are in so much trouble.”
He shifts my weight effortlessly so he is holding me with one arm around my thighs. My stomach is pressed against his face. I feel the first smack against my butt. It’s playful, but I play along by squirming. I act as if I am fighting for my life.
“Bud!” I scream. “Bud, come and help me.”
Zane swats my bottom again. This time, he lets his hand linger momentarily.
Bud runs out of the kitchen with his butcher knife in his hand. “What the hell is going on here?” he yells. He looks around at the empty room. “What the hell? I thought you were being mugged out here. Why don’t you two just do it and get it over with.” He shakes his head at us and walks back into his kitchen, grumbling the entire way.
“See, you’re getting no help from Bud. I should take you upstairs and throw you over my knee.”
I am so into that idea.
He lets me slide down his body. His hands glide from my bottom to my shoulders as my breasts slide down his chest. The friction makes my nipples harden. The sweet sensation of arousal is an aphrodisiac.
I replay the scene in my head and begin to laugh. Watching Bud run out of the kitchen flailing a knife is funny. More important is his comment about going upstairs and doing it; now, that statement has merit.
“I don’t think Bud was suggesting a spanking,” I tell him.
His lips crush mine. I pull my hands through his hair and hold him against me. I can feel his arousal press against my stomach. His hands reach down to my hips, where he grasps both sides and pulls me into him. Like a duet, we moan in unison.
“Let’s close the bar and go upstairs. We only have an hour left anyway. I’m sure Claire would love to leave early.”
“Claire? Is she the redhead?” I think back to the one time I met her. I couldn’t come up with a name for her.
“What did you name her?” He smirks at me as if he’s expecting me to blurt out Annie or some crazy thing.
“I couldn’t figure her out.”
“Go and lock the door, I’ll tell Bud we’re closing for the night.”
He swats my butt as I turn around and head for the door. With the bar closed up, he guides me up the stairs and into his home.
“Hey, Claire, you’re out of here. I closed the bar early.”
He hands her a wad of twenties and walks her to the back door. He watches her until she is safely in her car. As soon as he shuts the door, he closes in on me. I’ve settled myself on the sofa. He wastes no time pinning my body under his. Hot lips run up my neck to nibble on my earlobe. I wonder if his heart is beating at the same rate as my own. There is no time to think while his lips rain kisses from my neck to my mouth. He pulls away, and I feel the loss of his touch. I think I even whimpered out loud.
“This couch is not the place for this kind of activity. I have a bed.”
He winks at me as he pulls me into a sitting position. My feet slide to the ground and hit the floor with a thud. A groan escapes my lips as the pain radiates up my legs.
“Would you like a glass of wine? It might help you relax.” His eyes look into mine, softening as he looks at me.
As much as I was about ready to strip the man down and climb him like a tree, a glass of wine actually sounds heavenly. I am tired. My feet are killing me, first from the run yesterday—note to self: running requires decent runners—and now from my shift. Zane keeps surprising me with his genteel kindness. Am I just not used to being treated like a lady anymore?
“Yes, that sounds great.”
He brings two glasses of red wine with him and sits next to me.
“You look tired. Are you okay?” He places his hand on my thigh and rubs gently. My body tingles all over from his touch.
“My feet hurt, but I’m all right. It’s nice to sit and relax.”
He shifts his body and pulls my feet into his lap. He tosses off my shoes and rubs the tension from balls of my feet. After yesterday’s run and standing on my feet during the shifts I’ve worked, my feet are killing me. I’m going to have to invest in a good pair of shoes. Focusing my attention on his ministrations, I fall back into the soft leather of the sofa and close my eyes.
“Hey, sweets…I ran you a bubble bath. Why don’t you get undressed and climb in,” he whispers in my ear. I didn’t even realize I had fallen asleep. The last thing I remember was having my feet rubbed.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I fell asleep on you. God, how awful.” How could I do that? We finally had some time alone, and I spent it sleeping. We were so close to doing the deed, and I blew it.
“You were tired. Besides, I liked watching you sleep.” He helps me up and walks me to the bathroom, where a bubble bath beckons me. The smell of baby soap perfumes the air. On the ledge of the tub is a glass of wine.
“You are so sweet. I don’t care what everyone else says.” I walk in and turn around. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. Is he joining me? Is he watching me?
“Yeah, well don’t tell anyone. You know where the towels are located. I put a T-shirt on the counter for you. You can use my toothbrush if you like.” He turns to leave.
“You’re leaving me?”
“If I stayed, beautiful. You wouldn’t be relaxing, and I fear you would be twice as sore tomorrow.” He brushes his lips against mine and retreats.
What does that mean? I know what it implies, but does that mean he wants me to stay the night? He did offer up his toothbrush and a T-shirt. Are we going to have sex? Do I want to have sex with him? Uh-duh…of course you do, my inner voice answers.
I’m not ready to have sex; I didn’t shave my legs today. I undress and search his bathroom drawer for his razor. Once I find it, I slowly sink into the steaming tub and relax. The bubbles are soothing, and the wine is making my tense muscles feel like jelly. I rapidly run the razor over my stubbly legs, just in case. I toss back the remainder of my wine and let the water drain.
I could have stayed in his tub all night, but I don’t want to waste my time on me when I can be with him.
I pull his T-shirt over my head and watch as it falls nearly to my knees. I’m not putting my dirty underwear back on, so it’s commando for me tonight. Looking at his toothbrush, I contemplate whether or not to use it. I’m not sure we are at the place in our relationship where we can share a toothbrush. Isn’t that too intimate?
You’re thinking about letting him press himself inside of you, and now you’re debating whether to let his toothbrush enter your mouth? I laugh at how incredibly obtuse I’m being.
I quickly brush my teeth, brush my hair, and exit the bathroom.
The house is silent. I pad through the hallway and into the living room, where I see him lying on the couch. Trying not to disturb him, I silently tiptoe to the chair that flanks the sofa.
“How was your bath?” The sound of his voice startles me. I jump what feels like several feet.
“You scared me. I thought you were sleeping.” He leans forward and pulls me across his body. The T-shirt slips up and shows off my thighs. “The bath was wonderful. Thank you. I don’t think anyone has ever run me a bath. I’m touched.”
“Your ex is a dick.” He pulls me down on top of his body. We lie with our stomachs pressed together and my head on his chest.
“Yes, he is.”
I move around until I feel comfortable. His hands rub my back in a slow and gentle up and down motion. His fingertips barely graze my naked thighs and bare bottom. I squirm, trying to pull the T-shirt down to cover myself.
“Don’t,” he says calmly. “I can’t see you, but I want to touch your soft skin. I’m not going to push you any further than you want to go. Lying here with
you is perfect just as it is.”
“I’m not worried about you pushing, Zane, I’m worried you won’t like me.” Did I really just say that out loud? Was I this insecure before Tyler?
He stops everything and leans up to look into my eyes.
“How could I not like you? Even if I took the fact that you’re beautiful out of the equation—which I can’t—you are still the nicest, most kind-hearted girl I’ve ever met.”
“You’re just trying to get into my T-shirt,” I tease.
“I bamboozled you into working with me, which I have to say is one of my finest moments. You look at my baby with the loving eyes of a parent. You treated my mom like she was important to you. How could I not like you?” He tweaks my chin. “Yes, you’re right. I would love to get into your T-shirt, but just being with you is good enough for now. Will you spend the night? No expectations. I just want to hold you.”
He just wants to hold you? Yeah, right. My subconscious is very vocal today. I snuggle my face into his chest and breathe. It feels so good to be here.
“Let’s climb in bed, sweets. The baby will be up at some point tonight, and I want to snuggle before he interrupts our time together.”
I lift myself from his chest, trying hard not to let the T-shirt ride up and show off the goods. Maybe my decision not to wear underwear wasn’t well thought out. As soon as I’m in a standing position, he takes my hand and leads me to his bed. The comforter is already pulled to the end of the bed, and a light blanket and sheet are all that remain.
I feel nervous. I’m about to climb into bed with this man, and I have no idea what to expect. I slide into his bed and pull the sheet over my body.
“Do you prefer a particular side?” I ask. I know I tend to gravitate to the right side, but I can sleep just about anywhere.
“You’re fine just where you’re at.” I lie back on the pillow and watch as he undresses.
True North Page 10
