by A. J. Wynter
“Hi, Muriel. I’m good. And you?” Lauren turned over one of the coffee cups on the table and set it in the saucer.
“Oh, I’m still going.” The gray-haired woman held up the pot and raised her eyebrows from behind her oversized old lady glasses. “Coffee?”
Muriel’s coffee was notoriously syrupy. “Sure, I could use a little of your rocket fuel.” She slid her cup and saucer to the edge of the table.
“And for your friend?” Muriel asked. Lauren knew that the question was less about coffee and more about who he was to Lauren.
“Muriel, this is my...,” she was going to say friend, but then decided against it. “This is Brock.”
“Well, hello, Brock. Welcome to Chance Rapids,” Muriel smiled. “Coffee?”
“Sure,” he flashed his megawatt grin at Muriel.
“Well, aren’t you cute.” Muriel poured Baxter’s coffee. “Lauren, find a way to get this one to stay in town.” Muriel laughed and walked away.
Lauren swore she saw crimson rising from the collar of his shirt. “Are you blushing?”
“She’s very forward isn’t she?” he laughed. “Geez.”
“She speaks her mind, that’s for sure.”
“Thanks for not outing me.”
“Oh, if I introduced you as Baxter Caldwell, you’d probably be wearing that pot of coffee right now.”
Baxter firmed his lips. “Does everyone in town hate me?”
“Everyone except all the drunk people at the Winter Carnival right now. But... they might hate you tomorrow when they’re nursing their hangovers.”
Baxter took a sip of the coffee and when his eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his head, she broke out into laughter. “I should’ve warned you.” She leaned across the table and whispered, “The coffee here is practically a solid.”
“Whoooo,” he blew out a breath. “I think I’m going to be up for the next three days.”
“Cheers.” Lauren held up her cup. He met hers and they both grimaced as they sipped.
The pause afterward was long and awkward. Lauren shifted the saucer around under the mug. “So...”
She started to say at the same time Baxter starting speaking. “What...”
“Go ahe—” Lauren started to say.
“You go—” Baxter said at the same time. The interruptive talk made the awkward silence seem welcome.
Baxter gestured to Lauren with his hand. “Ladies first,” he smiled. Lauren knew that a serious conversation was on the horizon and didn’t know how to broach the subject. Should she just jump right in? How are we going to not kill or sleep with each other? Was that a good opener? No. She shook her head. She didn’t want to jump into that conversation with him, what if it was over in a few seconds? They might never have the chance to sit across from each other like this again. She hated to admit it, but she felt like she could sit across from Baxter Caldwell and stare into his eyes all night.
“Not tree planting anymore?” That was the best she could come up with. Where was her wit when she needed it?
He chuckled. “Sometimes I wish I was.” He raised the cup to his mouth but set it down without taking a sip. He seemed wistful.
“Why?” she asked.
“It was simpler back then.” He stretched his legs out under the table and accidentally kicked one of Lauren’s boots. “Whoops, sorry.” He pulled his feet back to his own side of the table and sat upright. “I guess you don’t miss cleaning up after heli-skiers,” he said.
“I don’t,” Lauren said. “It might have been a simpler time back then for you, but for me, I was working two jobs and dealing with a lot of stuff at home.”
“Your mom’s cancer,” Baxter said.
Lauren raised her eyebrows. “How did you know?”
“We talked about it that night...”
Lauren knew that they had talked for hours but was surprised that she had opened up about her mom’s sickness. “She didn’t make it much longer after that,” Lauren whispered saving Baxter from the awkward position of asking whether or not her mom survived.
“I’m so sorry, Lauren.” Baxter reached out and took Lauren’s hand off her mug and held it gently in his.
Muriel approached the table, “Do you want to order any food?”
They both looked up at her, neither of them had even glanced at the laminated menus that sat in the wire napkin holder on the table. Muriel stepped back, “I’ll come back,” she whispered.
Lauren pulled the menus out of the napkin holder and slid one across the table to Baxter. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”
“Ten years,” Baxter said. “Time flies. You’re a powerful woman now; not that you weren’t back then too,” he corrected. “I just mean—”
“I know what you mean,” she said. “And you’re a powerful man now. Not that you weren’t one back then too.” She volleyed the pseudo compliment back to him.
“I tried to find you,” he whispered.
“You did?” This was news to her.
“Lauren, that night wasn’t just about sex to me. Don’t you remember, we sat up all night talking?”
“I do,” Lauren said.
“And when I woke up in the morning you were gone,” he said.
“I had to go to work,” she said.
“You didn’t leave anything, a number, a last name, anything,” Baxter said.
Lauren remembered sneaking out of Baxter’s room just as dawn lit up the silhouette of his face. She had thought about leaving her phone number, she had actually written it down on a piece of paper, but as she watched him sleeping, his full lips slightly parted, she shoved the number into her pocket and had left the room.
“I didn’t think that you wanted me to.”
“What would make you think that?” Baxter’s brow was furrowed, and she felt like he was boring holes into the back of her skull as he stared at her. “Fuck, Lauren, we had a connection.”
“We were kids,” she said. “I had never done that before. You know, a one-night thing.”
“It didn’t have to be a one-night thing.”
“I didn’t know that. All I knew is that you were a rich kid, in and out of town for a heli-ski vacation with your rich dad and his buddies.”
“I wish you would’ve given me the opportunity to prove that I was, that I am, more than that.” Baxter took Lauren’s hand in his.
“I’m sorry. If I could go back in time and change things, I would.” She pulled her hand out of Baxter’s. “But Baxter, we’re both adults now, and if you haven’t forgotten, we’re on opposite sides of the bargaining table right now. Even if we have a, um, history, that’s exactly what it is – history.” She folded her hands in front of her and stared at them while she spoke. “We can’t do this.” She looked up at him, his hands were also folded on the table.
“Right now,” he added.
“Right now,” she agreed. Her chest tightened, she needed to tell him about Tabitha. She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. She squeezed her lips together, How was she going to tell him that he had a daughter? “After the development is...” she paused. This is where they got into trouble earlier, “After the development is either approved or not approved, we can get together and talk about... this.” She pointed to him and back at her.
“Deal,” he smiled and reached out his hand.
Like two businesspeople, Lauren and Baxter shook on the postponement of, whatever it was, that they were. Baxter slugged back the last of his coffee. “I’m not going to be able to sleep after that,” he cleared his throat and thumped his fist on his chest like he was dislodging something solid. And just like that, the charge in the air between them was gone. Lauren relaxed back into the booth. They weren’t lovers, they weren’t friends, they were two businesspeople who both agreed that business had to come first.
“Me neither.” Lauren glanced at her watch and breathed a sigh of relief. It was only eight o’clock. She could still get home and work on the documents she needed
to get done for Monday. “I should go,” she said.
“Let me call the driver and we can drop you at home.” Baxter pulled a twenty-dollar bill out of his wallet and left it tucked under his saucer.
“No,” Lauren said. “I appreciate the offer, but I think I’d like to walk tonight.”
“Well, let me walk you home then. What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you trudge off into the storm alone?”
Lauren glanced behind Baxter, the biggest snowflakes she had ever seen were falling heavily in the light of the streetlamp outside the diner window. “I’ll be fine.” She pulled on her coat and hat.
Baxter’s eyes flashed. “No.”
“Excuse me?” Lauren put on her red mittens and slid out of the booth. Baxter quickly got into his jacket and hat.
“Remember earlier? We said that we were putting aside business to be civil. We shook on it.”
How could Lauren forget?
“I do remember that.” She turned and yelled goodbye to Muriel. “I thought that we also just agreed that, right now, you are my opponent.
Baxter grinned. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. Our earlier deal is still good. That new one, it starts first thing Monday. It’s a business deal, and therefore, follows business hours.” He walked ahead of Lauren and opened the door for her. He gestured into the snowstorm like a butler, “M’lady.”
Lauren couldn’t help but smile. For someone so successful, Baxter was surprisingly playful. “You’re very good at finding loopholes.” Lauren pushed on his chest as she walked past him. “I’ll remember that – on Monday.”
Lauren slid her hand into the crook of Baxter’s arm, and they headed down Main Street.
“Do you like living here?” he asked.
The streets were deserted, the entire community was at the Winter Carnival. The shops were dark, the streetlamps were the only source of light. “I do,” she said. “It took a bit of time to get used to the relaxed pace here, but I’ve grown to love it.”
“Do you like living in the city?” she asked.
“I’ve never really thought about it.” Baxter’s shrug lifted Lauren’s hand with it. “I mean, not in the last few years anyway. I’ve been so focused on work. This might surprise you, but it’s not easy being the boss’s kid.”
Lauren rolled her eyes. “You’re kidding right?”
“See, that’s the problem. Everyone thinks that my position was handed to me on a silver platter, and I suppose that part is right, but it means that I have to prove myself to everyone. I have to work twice as hard as Thomas and Barry. I come in earlier than them, I leave later.”
“It’s a good thing you don’t have a family,” Lauren said. His woe is me rich boy sob story wasn’t landing with her.
“Oh, god. I can’t even imagine.”
Lauren’s pace slowed slightly as she found herself lost for words. The man had no idea what it was like to struggle. They walked a few paces in silence. “Lauren, did I say something wrong?” he asked.
“It’s just, I mean, I kind of understand where you’re coming from, but I also see it from the perspective of everyone in your company. You got the job without having to prove yourself.”
“Hold on there, I graduated top of my class.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Baxter confirmed.
“Ok, fine. But imagine all of those workers that have families, that can’t stay late. All those people who have to find daycare so that they can go to work to pay for their daycare.”
“I could say the same thing to you, Lauren,” Baxter said. He squeezed her hand with his arm.
Lauren took a deep breath. She had backed herself into a corner. “What about all those people who have to pay for their student loans then? Look, Baxter. I’m not discounting your struggle, but it might help your cause if you try to look at yourself from the other side.”
Baxter stopped and turned to face Lauren. “Why are you picking a fight with me?” he asked.
“I’m not.” Lauren put her hands on her hips.
“You had a full-ride scholarship. Barry told me. And you don’t have a family, so other than the fact that my dad’s name is on the letterhead, I don’t see how you and I are so different.”
“Wow,” Lauren said. “That’s your problem, Baxter. You have no idea.”
“What? You and your sister are both super successful. And look, your sister has a kid, so isn’t that a little like the pot calling the kettle black?”
“Let’s keep walking.” Lauren took a few steps and Baxter followed suit. Was it a lie if she didn’t correct him?
“Do you still play the guitar?” She needed to get the subject as far away from Charlotte and Tabitha as possible.
“No,” Baxter said. “I just don’t have the time anymore.”
“That’s sad. You were really good.” Lauren remembered admiring his strong forearms as he strummed his guitar for her. They continued walking in silence, the snow quickly filling in their footprints. They walked past the Sugar Peaks Café and the store where Baxter had bought her the sweater. They turned onto Acorn Street, the branches from the snow-laden trees hung heavily over the street, blocking most of the light from the streetlamps. Baxter rested his hand on her back, in a respectful, not proprietary touch.
“You’re probably right,” Baxter said.
“About what?” Lauren asked. She shivered and he slid his hand across her back, pressing his fingers into her side and squeezed her into him.
“I’m a spoiled brat.”
She smiled. “You are.”
They stopped in front of the gray bungalow with the forest green trim. “This is my house.”
“It’s cute.”
“That means small in real estate lingo, doesn’t it?” she said.
“Most of the time.” He squeezed her again. “But not now.”
There were three steps that led from the sidewalk to Lauren’s front walkway and she stepped up onto the first one and turned. “Thank you for the walk home.” She held out her hand and waited for him to shake it. He didn’t.
“I was thinking...”
Lauren lowered her hand.
“Maybe you could show me around town. Help me to understand what it’s like to live here. Help me to understand the common folk,” he grinned.
She swatted his arm. “Come on.”
“No, I’m serious. Make me see why I need to make the changes to the development. Lauren, if I can prove to the board that the changes make sense, they will listen to me.”
“Really?” Lauren raised her eyebrows.
“You wouldn’t be using me to get intel on how to dupe us commoners?”
“You’d have to trust me.”
The mountain of papers sitting on her desk weighed heavily on Lauren’s mind. She inhaled, thinking about Baxter’s proposition. “Okay.”
“Really?”
Lauren had quickly weighed the cost-benefit analysis of doing the paperwork versus potentially changing Baxter’s mind, and realized that all of their problems could be solved if she could just make him see how the Caldwell Creek project was going to impact the town.
“Really,” she said. “Don’t make me regret this.” she crossed her arms.
“You won’t.”
With Lauren on the step, they were exactly eye to eye. She offered her hand and he stared at her mitten; puffs of his breath filled the space between them. Instead of shaking her hand, Baxter gripped her arms and pulled her toward him, kissing her hard. Then just as quickly, he pulled back, his hands still holding her arms tightly. “Business starts Monday.” He winked and then walked away.
Lauren stood frozen as she watched Baxter walk away.
“Don’t do it,” she whispered to herself. She turned and walked to the top of the steps, opening and closing her hands into fists at her side. “Shit.” She muttered to herself and let herself turn back. Baxter was almost at the end of her street.
“Baxter,” she shouted.
He kept wa
lking. She jumped down the stairs. “Brock,” she screamed. This time he heard her and turned. She couldn’t stop herself; her legs weren’t listening to her brain and she started walking towards him. Her heart started to race as he did the same, then she broke out into a run and flew into his arms.
Chapter 20
BAXTER SWORE HIS FINGERTIPS were about to fall off but walking Lauren home had been worth it. That woman had more firecracker in her than she knew, and she was the first woman who had ever called him out on his shit. It had caught him off guard, but she was right. He needed more people like her in his life.
He wondered if she was struggling as hard as he was. His cock was recovering from the kiss and throbbed as he walked down the snowy street. The horndog in him wanted to scrap Caldwell Creek project altogether if it meant he could take Lauren to bed with him but knew that thinking with his cock was a bad idea. The snow was getting deeper by the second as he made his way to Main Street. At least he would get to spend one more day with Lauren before they went to battle against each other. The tension of their business predicament was always bubbling near the surface, and he hoped that they could keep it at bay. He was supposed to hate her, but he couldn’t.
A real gentleman would’ve walked her to the door, but he didn’t trust himself with her. He should’ve shaken her hand, but he couldn’t stop himself. There was a part of him that needed her, something on a primal level drew his body to hers. Of course, he wanted to fuck her, but there was more to it than that.
The wind had started to pick up, driving the snow hard against his face. He almost didn’t hear her yell out his name. He turned and when he saw her running towards him, he didn’t stop to think, he ran to her and held out his arms as she flew against his body. Her lips were cold, but her mouth was warm. His erection pressed against his pants as Lauren’s lips grew hungrier against his. He pulled her tightly to him, the down in her puffy coat compacting between their bodies. He didn’t know how long they stood in the darkness of the street. He just knew that he didn’t feel cold, the heat from their desire had overtaken the elements. When she finally pulled back, she had an inch-deep layer of snow on her hat. Her eyes searched his and he had his answer, she was struggling with their attraction just as hard as he was. She held onto his arm and drew her chest back from his so she could look him in the eye, but it wasn’t lost on him, or his cock, that her hips remained pressed against his. He knew that she’d be able to feel his raging hard-on even through the layers of their winter clothes, but he didn’t care. The contact between them had brought him so close to the edge, and he was so turned on that he could’ve blown his load in his pants right now if she would’ve ground against him any harder.
