by Emelia Blair
However, my attention returns to Paul and I stare at him.
I did my research on the little rat and now, I know enough about him. I just need to scare him enough, so he stays away from Tracy and yet, doesn’t fire her. I can probably get her a job at one of the restaurants Caleb owns but I want to figure this out for her myself, rather than using my friend’s connections.
Tracy’s shift ends and she exits the kitchen, taking off her apron.
I stand up.
Paul’s face shifts into an ugly scowl and he walks towards her.
She has yet to approach me, but there’s something nervous about her today, almost jittery.
My jaw tightens as she reaches me at the same time as Paul reaches her.
I don’t let the man get a word in and without hesitating…I loop my arm around Tracy’s waist and yank her towards me, almost instinctively.
She doesn’t cry out or anything, she just quietly gasps and then goes still in my arms, almost as if she senses the presence behind her.
My eyes are on Paul’s and I feel darkly protective as I press my lips on Tracy’s forehead, holding her against my body so her face is buried in my chest.
To my surprise, Tracy doesn’t so much as move, relaxing in my arms as if she belongs there.
My words aren’t quiet on purpose. They’re loud enough to reach Paul’s ears, “Let’s get something to eat since you’re off your shift, babe.”
Each word is targeted towards the man standing a few feet away, his hands clenched by his sides. He can’t force her to work during her break and he can’t possibly take me on since I’m bigger than him and meaner looking.
Sheena stands behind the counter, her eyes wide as she too, overhears my words.
I hold Paul’s gaze, making sure to make mine more menacing, before I ask, “You don’t have to work now, right?”
I’m speaking to Tracy but my question is directed towards Paul.
Tracy pulls back from me and looks over her shoulder, almost a little, and she looks almost hesitant as she glances towards Paul. “I should be.”
“You’ve been working non-stop for the past two weeks,” I bark. “Where’s your manager? Maybe I should have a word with him?”
I don’t know how much Tracy will allow me to get away with and her hand tightens on my shirt.
I narrow my eyes at Paul.
Tracy starts to speak, “You—”
“She’s off! She’s off!” Paul says, hastily. “Good job. Thanks for helping out these past few days, Tracy.”
Good to know… the man is a coward.
But I’ve seen cowards like him and the minute my back is turned, he’ll take out his frustrations on Tracy. I just have to make it, so he keeps his grubby hands off my woman – I freeze as I comprehend this particular line of thought.
Something must have shown on my face because Tracy lightly pinches my chest, murmuring, “Don’t stop now. You were doing so well.”
I look down at her only to see her raising a brow at me and I wonder how much trouble I’m in as I usher her out, “I can explain.” I immediately release her once we’re in the parking lot, hidden from view.
She crosses her arms, studying me with an odd expression. “All right. I’m listening.”
Big mistake.
I should have let her vent out exactly what I was supposed to be apologizing for.
“Well, um.” I scratch the back of my head, sheepishly. “Your friend, Sheena—”
“She’s not my friend,” she abruptly cuts me off.
“Yeah, okay, well, uh—your colleague told me that you were being harassed at work and l just wanted to help because, um, because...” I wrack my brains and then blink as the events from the previous afternoon come hurtling back, and I continue, a bit more confidently, “Because I gave Kendall a ride yesterday to pick up Max from school. And the kid was missing you and then Kendall told me you were pulling extra shifts and I didn’t think it was fair on Max to be so lonely because your boss is being a dick.”
I know I’m rambling at this point but I have taken a lot of liberties with Tracy.
However, to my surprise, she tilts her head and chuckles. “You’re lucky I find you cute.”
I go still at her comment.
She continues, “You’re sweet, Duke, but you shouldn’t involve yourself in my problems. I’ll figure out a way to handle all this.”
I don’t get a chance to say anything because she adds, with a knowing gleam in her eyes, “I know Kendall didn’t send you here and I really appreciate how kind you’ve been to me—”
“It's not kindness,” I blurt out, feeling nervous. “You’re always taking care of Max and Kendall but no one takes care of you and I don’t think that’s right.”
Her smile falters at my words and a soft sadness flickers in her eyes, as she asks, gently, “Is that what you’ve been doing? Taking care of me?”
“Somebody has to,” I argue.
She shakes her head at me. “You’re a sweetheart. Who knew under that tough exterior was such a generous hearted man?”
I sense a, but coming in and I launch in, “If you’re worried that I have ulterior motives, I promise you I don’t.”
Tracy gives me a tired smile. “Kendall thinks highly of you, so I didn’t expect you to have any sinister motives lined up. But as much as I appreciate this, I’ve been taking care of myself for a very long time, honey. If I start leaning on you, I might get used to it, so maybe you should stop now, while you’re ahead.”
Something cold fuels a fire in my chest at what seems to be blatant rejection. I’m usually a very take charge man but in front of this woman, I lose all that. “What if I don’t want to?”
Her eyes widen slightly before something flashes in her eyes. “Don’t get me used to leaning on you, Duke. Please.” There is a soft hint of pleading in her voice.
I’ve seen her interact with other people and this is a tone she only ever uses for me… it feels like my heart is tightening in my chest.
I don’t understand this feeling inside of me. At first, I thought it was pity and concern with a vague attraction that I had no intention of pursuing. But I’ve been coming to this diner for the past two weeks and the more I interact with this woman, the more helpless I feel.
She’s smart, funny, and sassy. She makes my heart skip a beat. I never tire of staring at her as she works. I have always ever described a woman as cute, sexy or hot but when it comes to Tracy, all I think of are words like ‘beautiful’ and ‘gorgeous.’
My mother, despite what she’d been through, had always been a romantic at heart, and she would always tell me. “Dukey, when the right woman comes your way, it’ll hit you like a ton of bricks. It’ll leave you breathless and excited and helpless, all at the same time. And when you find that person, you make sure you hold on to them and don’t let them get away.”
I always wondered at the sad expression in her eyes when she would tell me this and right now, as I look at Tracy, I wonder if I’m being stupid and overly cautious. She throws me off balance and I've never before stayed up at night thinking about a woman like I do now.
My own thoughts frighten me and worry me about how obsessive they feel.
I must have been silent for quite a while because I hear her say my name and I blink, as if I’ve woken up from a daze. “Sorry,” I mutter, scratching my head. I stick my hands into my pockets. “Do you want me to take you to Max’s game? You were talking about it yesterday and Kendall mentioned something about it being his first game.”
Tracy’s eyes widen and she sinks her teeth into her lower lip, looking torn. “I was going to take the bus—”
“I can drive,” I say, instantly. “Plus, I would like to watch the game. I’m a huge soccer fan. I used to be part of the team back when I was in school. They said I had real potential.” I puff up my chest at the last part.
Tracy laughs. “Yeah? What happened?”
My smile flickers and I wonder if I should reveal my sord
id past to her but something stops me, whispering, Not yet. “Life happened. My mother passed away.”
Sympathy glimmers in her eyes and she touches my arm. “I’m sorry.”
I stare down at her delicate hand which bears callouses which have no business being there. I feel hollow at the memory of the woman who had loved me and raised me—whose death I had been partially responsible for.
It’s a burden I’ll carry my whole life. “So am I,” I murmur, quietly.
Maybe she sees something in my face and Tracy prods me. “Let’s go to the game.”
I blink at her. “Really? You don’t mind me coming along?”
She grins at me in that way of hers that makes my mouth go dry. “Since you're such a soccer expert, maybe you can explain the game to me.”
I don’t waste any time bundling her into the car and we’re on our way.
Once we get there, the game has just started and there are a few parents in the bleachers. I find some seats near the end, next to where the players are sitting. I see Max sitting there and I wave at him.
Excitement fills his face as he sees us and he rushes over. “Duke, you came!”
“Of course, I did. I told you I would.”
Tracy raises a brow. “Am I missing something here?”
Before I can get a word in edgewise, Max blurts out, “Duke said he’d help me get better than Neil. He knows all about soccer, Mom!”
Tracy is watching me with an arched eyebrow.
I give her a sheepish grin. “Well, I was going to ask you, first. And it was Kendall’s fault. She started this.”
Max, unaware that his mother might be upset, continues, “Look, Mom!” He points towards his brand new sneakers and I pale now as I too, look down at his new shoes.
Max goes on, “The coach gave everyone new sneakers! They’re the ones we saw in the shop and I also told—”
“You should really get back to your team,” I cut in hastily. Putting my hands on his shoulders, I turn him around. “We don’t want your coach to get annoyed.”
Max nods and runs back.
I cross my fingers in my heart, hoping Tracy doesn’t mention the sneakers. But of course, it’s a futile wish.
She gives me a strange look. “How odd.”
I nod, pretending to agree. “Absolutely.”
However, she doesn’t get the chance to say anything further because the coach, a feeble looking man walks over, pointing. “Folks, take a seat.”
“Coach, I’m Max’s mother. Where did he get those sneakers from?”
I can understand Tracy’s concern and I’m so glad I chose to do everything via phone rather than in person.
He answers, “We got a sponsor, someone donated a large sum of money and wanted us to update the soccer team’s gear. Probably a rich parent or something.” The coach looks down at his clipboard, distracted. “I sent out notices. All the parents signed it but you. Max said you were busy.”
Tracy’s face goes white and she clenches her fists.
I have the urge to find that bastard Paul who forced her to spend so much time away from her son. It’s been difficult enough, restraining myself from punching his face in for the harassment he’s made her undergo. But now, since he’s seen me, I have a feeling he’ll stay in line.
Staying by Caleb’s side for the past few years, the man has rubbed off on me and I don’t plan to let Paul off that easily for what he’s made Tracy endure. His ending will be painful and bitter.
I plan to make sure of it.
However, for now, I pretend to look interested in my phone.
Tracy shoots me a look once the coach walks away. “Duke.”
I clear my throat and put on my most innocent expression before looking up at her. “Yes?”
She’s giving me a stern look, her arms crossed over her chest, one shoe tapping on the ground. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with this, would you?”
Acting isn’t my finest skill but I give it my best shot, and shoot her a look that I hope looks bewildered. “Me? Why would I – That is such a – I don’t have that sort of money. I’m just a driver.”
Tracy gives me a doubtful look. “I find it strange that every time I mention something to you, it ends up happening.”
“It’s called a coincidence.” I waggle my brows at her. “Educate yourself.”
My words have the desired effect and her lips twitch but she doesn’t smile. “This is not okay, Duke.”
“I didn’t do anything!” I protest, clutching my chest. “I’m being falsely accused here.”
A rare form of smile creases Tracy’s cheeks and she reaches out to yank my ear, lightly. “You had better hope that’s the case.”
I grin.
I can’t help it. She brings out the playful side in me and it’s a first for me.
Her smile slides off and her voice is soft and hesitant as she speaks, “I’m not used to people helping me out but if you did do this, Duke, for my son, thank you.” She’s lowering her walls in front of me, as her voice is thick with tears she refuses to shed.
I take her hand, without thinking, and press my lips to the back of it, my eyes holding her proud ones that have a look of defeat in them and my voice is raw. “I’ve known you for two weeks, Tracy, but you make me want to put the whole world on a platter and offer it to you. I don’t know why.”
I let her see the vulnerability in my eyes.
She sucks in a sharp breath and her cheeks flush a soft pink as she pulls her hand away.
I let her, wondering what the hell I’m doing. Tracy isn’t just a woman I can mess around with.
But I don’t just want to mess around with her.
The thought startles me and I chew on it as we sit down.
The game starts and I can see Tracy trying her best to follow it and I point out goals and explain some of the rules to her as my eyes track Max as he runs around with his friends. He’s an energetic little thing. I wonder if, when I have a son…will he be like this?
However, I soon get absorbed in the game and jump to my feet cheering every time Max makes a goal. The kid is good.
“Go right!” I shout out. “Pass him the ball, Max!” I’m so intensely following the game, shouting instructions at Max who beams at me, his little face red with exertion.
Tracy is oddly silent but she picks up on my cues and she cheers when I do.
Max’s team loses the match and the boy trudges up to us, or more specifically, me, looking disappointed. His voice is small as he looks up at me, and says, “We lost.”
Tracy moves as if to hug him and I beat her to it, lifting him up and placing him on my shoulders, grinning. “Are you kidding me? Did you see yourself out there? You were kicking all their asses!”
“Language!” Tracy scolds.
Max is starting to look pleased. “I played well?”
“Well?” I scoff. “You were the best out there. Four goals, kid! We need to celebrate! Let’s get pizza and ice cream!”
Max is grinning from ear to ear. “Really?”
“The cheesiest pizza,” I declare. “With a large sundae!”
Max howls in glee. “Mom, can we?”
Tracy looks torn as she looks between me and her son.
I pout at her. “Oh, come on! He made four goals!”
She finally throws up her hands. “I don’t know which one of you is more excited by that. But fine.”
I lift up my arm to fist bump Max who looks more confident.
It’s as we’re about to leave when the coach walks over. “Hey, you were the parent calling out the instructions, right?”
I go still but before Tracy can say something, I ask, “Can l help you?”
The coach scratches his head. “Well, we’re looking for some parents to do some volunteer coaching over the summer break. If you’re interested, I can sign you up.”
I hesitate and Max tugs at my hair, excited. “Yeah! You can coach us, Duke!”
The idea isn’t unappealing bu
t I ask, “Is this parents only?”
Tracy’s face tightens at this question.
The coach blinks. “Well, I mean. – You need to have some relation to the kids.”
This is Tracy’s son and I’ve already taken so many liberties with her. And getting involved in her life is one thing, but getting involved in her son’s life is a completely different thing. I glance at her, wondering what she’s thinking.
Then she says, abruptly, “We’ll let you know.”
The coach glances between us and then shrugs. “Let me know within a month’s time.”
As he walks away, Max asks, disappointed, “Why didn’t you say yes, Duke?”
It’s Tracy who responds, holding out her arms. “Come here.” She helps him down. “Let’s go eat something and then we’ll talk about it.”
Max hesitates then he skips ahead and we follow him.
“Why didn’t you say no?” I ask, quietly.
“Why didn’t you?” she counters, calmly.
I have no response.
We’re nearly at the car before I touch her wrist lightly, making her pause. I wait for her to turn and look at me. “l don’t want to involve myself in your son’s life until you are completely okay with it. I mean, we will be neighbors and all but I don’t want to make you feel like I’m overstepping my bounds.”
Tracy studies me and then she says, seriously, “I like you, Duke. I don’t understand our friendship but you seem to be a decent man.” Her tone falters. “…I haven’t met many of those in my life.”
It’s the first time I’ve heard an ex-con be described as a decent man. I don’t say anything but I feel uneasy. I feel like I’m deceiving Tracy.
4
Tracy’s hours are back to normal.
Although, calling the graveyard shift, normal, is a bit of a stretch. But I still show up like clockwork.
Tracy now knows my regular order.
“Don’t you have a daytime job?” she asks a week later as she puts a glass of lemonade in front of me.
I stare down at the glass and then look up, confused. “I ordered coffee.”
“Well, you’re getting lemonade,” she tells me, sternly. “It’s healthier.”
I rest my chin on my palm and grin. “It’s so hot when you order me around.”
