I was circling another ad in the classifieds on Tuesday when Jamie stepped inside Wax with a black duffle slung over his shoulder.
I looked at the time on the computer screen. It was just after eleven.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, watching him walk toward me. “Thought you had lessons this morning?”
He lifted the bag off his shoulder and heaved it up onto the counter.
“Had to move them to tomorrow. You wanted the money, right?”
Jamie unzipped the duffle and pulled on the flaps, showing me the contents in the bag; bundles of hundred-dollar bills, all wrapped and labeled.
“Holy shit,” I muttered, leaning over to see.
There was a lot of fucking money in that duffle.
“It’s all there. Had to hit up four different banks this morning to get it so I knew I’d be pushing the lesson times. Figured this was more important.” He zipped the bag and shoved it in front of me. “Also cleaned out my safe. Sucks if I get the urge to go Pacman Jones up in a strip club now. I’m out of ones.”
I placed my hand on the duffle.
“Probably for the best,” I told him. “That didn’t end well for him.”
“Only ’cause that dumbass wanted it back,” he shot back. “If I make it rain at The Golden Horse, those bitches can keep it. Once you commit to something like that, you need to follow through.”
Laughing under my breath, I slid the duffle off the counter and sat it underneath, tucking it behind a box of hats I still needed to tag with a price before putting out on a shelf.
“Thanks,” I said, straightening up and catching his eyes. “Means a lot, you doing this. Appreciate the cash, too. I didn’t want to have to write them a check.”
Jamie nodded as he leaned his elbows on the counter.
“Figured. Not gonna lie, felt cool carrying that bag around, like I was doing a drop or something,” he replied, grinning. “Smell of all that green got me hard.”
I stared at him, shaking my head.
“There’s something wrong with you,” I observed, eyes firm. “Seriously. You need help.”
He started laughing.
I wasn’t sure if Jamie was telling the truth or not, and I didn’t care enough to ask. In fact, the sooner we got onto another topic, the better.
I had something else I needed to talk to him about anyway.
“Thinking about moving out and getting a smaller place,” I shared. “Something that’ll work long term, room for kids when that happens.”
Jamie’s brows lifted.
“You being serious?” he asked.
I nodded with hands spread and braced on the counter.
“Makes sense to do it now,” I explained. “The way things are moving with Syd and with the pay cut I’m taking now that I’m not part owner, can’t afford that house every month. Want something I can easily swing that’ll work down the road, too. She wants kids. I wanna give them to her. Three bedrooms should be plenty.”
“Jesus,” he mumbled, shaking his head in disbelief and lifting his eyes from the counter. “Knew you two were serious, but shit, not gonna lie, I didn’t think you were talking about moving in together yet. Not sure this is normal, Dash.”
“Normal for us.” I shrugged. “Don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks.”
“I can see that,” he joked, then straightened to ask, “You telling me this so I can get my dad on it?”
Jamie’s father was in real estate. Most successful Realtor in North Carolina. He was pretty famous because of it. You couldn’t drive along the coast without seeing his face on one of those giant billboards off the highway.
It was how the McCade family made all their money before Jamie started competing and getting sponsored.
“Think he’d mind?” I asked.
“Fuck no. You kidding? Pretty sure Dad gets a boner every time he pulls up a listing.” Jamie tugged out his phone and started messing with it. “Need to know specifics. You want beach front? Big yard? Sex dungeon?”
“Doesn’t need to be beach front but keep it local. Good-size yard would be nice. Nothing less than three bedrooms and it needs to have a porch.”
Jamie lifted his eyes.
“You gonna take up knitting or something?” he asked dryly.
I cocked my head.
He shot me a dumbfounded look.
“Why the fuck else would you need to have a porch? You’re not an eighty-year-old woman.”
“Syd used to eat popsicles with her mom on her porch growing up,” I said, defending my request. “Lost that when her brother died and her mom stopped being much of anything to her anymore. Know that’s something she wishes she still had and I’m gonna make sure she gets it.”
He stared at me as I spoke, listening as if I were speaking another language, then continued staring when I was done and not saying anything back. Just slowly started grinning and looking too fucking pleased for his own good.
Great.
He was going to give me shit.
“If it doesn’t have a porch, tell him not to bother showing it to me,” I stressed, hoping to move on.
“You’re fucking adorable, Dash.”
I closed my eyes.
He wasn’t ready to move on.
“Jesus Christ.” Jamie laughed. “Anything else for Sunshine and her golden pussy? She want a white picket fence and a golden retriever with a bow around his neck sitting at the door?”
“Boxer,” I corrected, eyes opening.
“Say again?”
I looked at the classifieds sitting on the counter, then lifted my gaze to Jamie, stepped back, and crossed my arms tight against my chest.
He wasn’t getting that shit.
“Nothing.” I shook my head. “Make sure it has a fucking porch,” I insisted. “Three bedrooms. Good-size yard. Sex dungeon is optional.”
“Optional. We’re so different,” he muttered quietly, then looked back down at his phone and started typing.
The front door chimed open.
I lifted my head and watched Syd step inside, bright smile on her face as she waved excitedly, wearing white cutoffs that were tiny as fuck and showing all kinds of leg, a peach-colored tank that stretched over her tits and flat stomach, and cowboy boots that in no fucking way possible were sexy unless they were attached to my girl, making them the sexiest goddamn pair of shoes I’d ever seen in my life.
On top of all that, her hair was down and looking just-rode-my-dick messy.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I pulled in breath through my nose and fought off punching a hole through my shorts.
“She doesn’t know,” I said quietly to Jamie before moving out from behind the counter and standing next to it to see her better.
“Got it,” he mumbled as he continued texting.
Jamie would keep the house shit between us. He had my back and knew this was important.
Syd would find out when I was ready.
“Wow. Look at this place,” she said with wonder in her voice as she moved farther into the shop, head tipped back and eyes scanning the room. “It’s awesome in here! So bright and beachy. If I knew anything about surfing, I would probably buy one of everything.” She turned her head to look at me all sweet. “No matter. I’m planning on buying one of everything anyway. I gotta support my boy.”
Her boy.
Christ.
I laughed and shook my head.
“Come here,” I ordered.
My hands were itching to touch her.
She took off running straight at me, dodging a rack of shirts, got within arms’ reach, then leapt into the air with a squeal, gripping on to my shoulders as I took her waist and lifted, my hands moving to her ass and holding there as her legs wrapped around my hips and linked at the ankles, squeezing tight.
“Hey, Trouble,” she whispered, running her nose along mine and then rubbing them together.
“Wild.” I kissed the corner of her mouth. “Thought you were stopping by after lunch?”
She pressed her chest out, held on to my neck, and leaned back to look at me.
“I was going to but I couldn’t stand it any longer. I’ve been twiddling my thumbs waiting to come see you and there’s only so much Food Network I can watch before I start eating everything in the house,” she admitted. “I had to get out of there while I could still fit into my shorts.”
I squeezed her ass.
“Like these shorts, babe.”
Her lips curved up.
“Why the hell were you watching Food Network?” I asked.
Shyness dipped her head.
“Because I was hoping to get a new recipe to try out tonight when I make you dinner.”
My brows lifted.
“You’re making me dinner?”
“Yep. At Tori’s house.”
“And it’s something you’ve never made before?”
“Yep.”
I slid my grip farther around her so she was pressing closer and I was holding tighter.
There was a chance she’d try and push away after I finished getting my point across. I was eliminating that chance.
She wasn’t going anywhere.
“You sure that’s a good idea?” I asked carefully. “Straying from the four things you know how to cook? I’m good with pizza again.”
Her face tightened in annoyance as she lifted her chin.
“I know how to read a recipe, Brian,” she returned.
“Pretty sure you don’t, babe.”
“Excuse me?”
“You can’t read a recipe. You told me the story of how you almost burned your house down trying to make cavatini,” I reminded her, thinking back to that night. “Said you set the oven temperature wrong, forgot to cook the noodles before you baked them, and after tasting it, realized you’d put in too much garlic, thinking one clove meant the entire head.”
Her eyes lowered to my neck.
“It wasn’t that serious. I pulled the dish out before it burnt up completely. Also, I was fine with that measuring mistake. I just so happen to like a lot of garlic.”
“You put in eleven cloves of garlic in a recipe that called for one. No one likes garlic that much.”
Not sure how it was possible but her face tightened more, gaze threatening as it squared off with mine again, and this time, her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment and her lips were curling against her teeth.
“Know you’re trying to look mad, Wild, but you just look cute as hell,” I informed her.
“God, you two are precious,” Jamie commented from where he was standing. “If I stick around and hear any more of this shit, I might get my period.”
Syd shot daggers at Jamie, then narrowed her eyes on me and ducked to get closer.
“That’s exactly the look I was going for, thank you very much,” she clipped. “And I’d appreciate it if you would see my look as intimidating and allow me to do this for you, because I really want to. It’s important to me.”
I heard the subtle change in her voice, the way her tongue lost that edge and her speech grew softer and withdrawn.
It wasn’t just important to her. It meant a whole fucking lot.
“You really wanna cook something for me you’ve never made?” I asked, dipping my head. “’Cause you don’t need to. I don’t mind cooking for us or eating the same four meals you know how to make for the next fifty years. Your pizza was damn good and I’m guessing I’m gonna like the other three things. Really don’t want you stressing over this.”
She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth.
“Wild,” I urged.
“I won’t stress. I promise.”
I lifted my shoulders. “Right,” I conceded. “Can’t fucking wait to try it then.”
She wiggled her hips excitedly with a little dance. Then her phone started ringing in her back pocket, and she reached back to grab it while telling me, “It’ll be perfect. You’ll see. What I got planned is gonna blow your mind, Brian. You’re never gonna want to get rid of me.”
I smiled, admitting, “Already there, babe.”
Her cheeks pinked up again, this time with the kind of embarrassment I liked seeing on her, and without looking at her phone, she hit a button and pressed it to her ear.
“Hello?” she answered, smiling at me, then losing that smile and the pink in her cheeks after whoever she was speaking to responded. Her face hardened. “What are you doing calling me? I told you, I never wanted to speak to you again.”
My jaw clenched
“Babe,” I said, my voice carrying warning, because I knew who was calling Syd and I also knew I was a second away from taking that phone and laying into that motherfucker for calling my girl.
Syd ignored me and kept on at him.
“I’m happy now, Marcus. Happier than I ever was with you ’cause I have a boyfriend who is amazing, and if you’re calling me to try and get me back, you are wasting your time. I’m—”
She stopped laying into him, met my eyes and widened hers, then looked down at a spot on my shirt.
“Oh. Yeah, I forgot to do that,” she said with a softer voice. “I’ll take care of it next week.” She listened for a second, then added, “That’s fine. Thank you for letting me know. Okay. Bye.” She ended the call and slipped her phone away.
“What’s that piece of shit want?” I asked.
Syd looked at me. Her hand slipped around my neck again, joining her other one.
“He was just reminding me to change my address with the post office,” she said. “My mail is still going there.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” She sucked on her lip. “But I was ready to tell him all about how amazing you are if he was calling for other reasons, and I would’ve had a lot to say, meaning that phone call would’ve lasted hours. You’re that amazing. Also, I would’ve given examples and gone into detail.”
I smirked.
Syd’s cheeks pinked up again when she leaned closer and shyly added, “A lot of detail.”
I chuckled.
“Come here.” I shifted her ass in my hands, pulling her until her tits pushed up against my chest and her arms wrapped around my neck instead of her fingers, then I turned my head and pressed my mouth to her jaw and the smooth skin below.
“Seriously. Think I just became a woman,” Jamie said.
Syd’s growl vibrated against my lips.
“Do you have the authority to fire him?” she asked quietly. “He’s ruining the moment.”
I chuckled, shifting her back until her legs released and her feet dropped to the floor, then sliding my arm over her shoulder, I tucked her against my side as we moved together in front of the counter.
Jamie grinned and slid his phone away, shook the hair out of his eyes, and remained leaning on the counter, fixating his gaze on Syd.
“See you’re off today. Is my girl workin’?” he asked, cocking his head. “Fuckin’ starved for a burger and her smart-ass mouth.”
“I really think she’d prefer it if you went someplace else to eat,” Syd replied, sliding her hand around my back.
Jamie grinned bigger.
“Beautiful. She’s workin’. I’m headin’ out.” He shifted his eyes to me as Syd sighed heavily in response. “You good?” he asked, straightening. “Should be back around four.”
I nodded, answering, “No problem.”
Jamie looked at Syd again. His brows pulled together.
“What kind of flowers does she like?”
Silence turned my head. I looked down at my girl and saw disbelief etched on her face.
“You…want to know what kind of flowers Tori likes?” she questioned slowly.
“That’s what I’m askin’.”
“Why?”
“Why the hell do you think? I wanna get her some.”
Syd’s expression changed from disbelief to straight-up shock. She stared at Jamie with her mouth slack and hanging open, eyes rounded and refusing to blink.
“You do?” she pressed, tipping forward. “But…you’re an idiot.”
Jamie flinched. “What the fuck?”
“I’m just saying, that’s thoughtful and you don’t strike me as a thoughtful person,” Syd quickly clarified. “Now you wanna be that guy who takes her flowers?”
“No. Honestly? I really fuckin’ don’t,” Jamie said, crossing his arms and appearing irritated. “I wanna be the guy who fucks up a car owned by some worthless motherfucker who did her wrong and gets to see that soft look on her face after I do it.”
Syd sucked in a breath. The hand gripping my waist held tighter.
“Unless you got a list of names of people I can pay a visit to, I’m shit outta luck with that,” he added. “So are you gonna help me out? Or do I need to buy one of every flower and hope for the best.”
Syd slid her other hand over my stomach, body turned so I could feel her tits against my ribs.
“Tori only likes dahlias,” she said. Her voice was softer. “That’s it. Coral ones if you can find them, but if you can’t, she likes every color. And she likes displaying them so make sure you put them in something, not just with the stems wrapped up.”
Jamie nodded, looking hopeful, then started flipping his keys around his finger and heading for the door, calling back, “Thanks, Sunshine. Appreciate it,” before disappearing through it.
Syd tipped her head back to smile up at me.
“I’m kinda rooting for him now. Don’t say anything.”
“Who the hell would I say anything to?” I asked, bringing my other arm around her. “Feel the need to stress again, Wild. I don’t care who Jamie fucks, who Tori fucks, or if they finally end up fucking each other. That’s their business. Only person I care about in terms of fucking is you.”
She got up on her toes and, with excitement racing through her voice, said, “Then you better give me a tour of this place and do it fast, ’cause I’d really like to get to the fucking part.”
I leaned back.
“Here?”
“Yes,” she strained. “It’s the entire reason for this outfit I’m wearing because these shorts make my butt look really nice and I know how much you like staring at my butt. So…” She released her arms from around me, wiggled out of my hold, and grabbed my hand, tugging. “Give me a quick tour and then take me to your office. And every time you go in there, I want you thinking about me and what I looked like with my legs spread wide on your desk.”
Fuck yeah. That was one helluva visual.
Wild pulled me along the counter, and without her seeing, I slid the classifieds underneath a magazine then cut my eyes back to her and lowered them to her ass.
She was spot on with my obsession and my dick was hard before we reached the other side of the room. The tour lasted all of thirty seconds before I started moving my hands over her tits and between her legs and she started grinding back and grasping at me. Then our mouths took over and I somehow managed to keep kissing and touching and building it for her while taking the time needed to lock the front door and flip the sign to Closed.
We made it to the office a second before her limbs started shaking and she was tightening around my fingers and moaning in my mouth.
Then I fucked her while I sucked her tits, shot my cum onto her stomach when she told me to, and watched her rub in it with that heavy look in her eyes like having me all over her was the biggest fucking turn-on, leading to me getting hard seconds after finishing and taking her again, eyes on her ass the whole time she bent over the desk with her arms braced. I pounded her to another orgasm and rooted deep when I couldn’t hold off, filling her pussy as she cried out and clenched around me.
She was right. I’d never look at this desk the same again.
* * *
Bag in hand, I crossed the parking lot of Carolina East Therapeutic Riding, climbed the ramp, kicked the dirt off my feet when I reached the top, then yanked the door open, stepping inside the small office.
I was in a hurry. I needed to get this done so I could get to Tori’s and have dinner with Syd. She was expecting me right after work and I was hoping Mona wasn’t going to keep me long or give me shit about this.
I didn’t have time to argue, and it wouldn’t fucking matter anyway. I was going through with this, and nothing she could say would change that.
Mona was seated at her desk on the phone. She glanced up at the sound of my entrance and greeted me with a quick smile, then whispered something into the line, listening and disconnecting a second later.
“Brian, it’s good to see you,” she exclaimed with her usual kind voice. She pushed out of her chair and stood to round her desk but halted behind it when she saw me making my way across the room. “Though it’s a little unexpected. You were just here.”
“I know,” I muttered, lifting the bag off my shoulder and setting it on the desk. I looked her in the eyes. “Need you to do one last thing for me, Mona. This is it.”
Her shoulders slumped.
“I’m sure whatever it is, it’s unnecessary, Brian.”
I ignored her comment, it was typical and expected, then I pushed the bag in front of her.
“Need you to make sure Owen and his family get this,” I told her. “Can’t leave it at their house like I’ve been doing. Someone could take it.”
She stared at me, then lowered her gaze to the bag.
“What is it?” she questioned while sliding the zipper open. She pulled the flaps back and peered inside, her breath catching on a gasp. “Brian,” she whispered, looking up with caution flooding her voice. “Where did you get this money?”
“It’s mine to give,” I assured. “Didn’t do anything illegal to get it. Know that’s what you’re thinking and you don’t need to be thinking that. That’s clean money. I need you to make sure it gets to them.”
“It’s too much.”
“It’s not.” I shoved my hands into my pockets. “Not even close.”
Mona kept her hands on the duffle as she closed her eyes and breathed slow, conflicted, and pitying breaths.
I could argue with her for years over this, force my understanding onto Mona and will it to stick, and she’d still come back telling me I was wrong and this was excessive beyond reason. It was who she was.
Like Jenna and Jamie and Cole, she didn’t understand my fault or the guilt I carried with me. She couldn’t. No one could.
They weren’t there. They weren’t responsible.
They would never understand.
I could never give enough. I could never give them back what I took but I could do this.
I needed to do this.
“Mona,” I prompted, watching her eyes slide open. “Please.”
Her hands fisted the duffle.
“I just…I don’t know if you realize what this will mean to them or if you will ever know because you won’t allow yourself to feel that, Brian, and that breaks my heart and makes me incredibly angry at the same time. I could hit you with this bag for being so disjointed.”
Relief pulled across my shoulders.
“You’ll do it then,” I verified.
She shook her head in exasperation, answering, “Of course I’ll do it. My God, I wish I could do this for all of my families. This is an incredible gift.”
“Just make sure they don’t know it’s from me.”
Her lips pressed into a tight thin line.
Fuck.
“I don’t like doing that,” she informed quietly. “And I really think they should know where this kind of money is coming from. They will want to thank you—”
“They can thank me by taking the money,” I cut in brusquely.
“Brian,” she pleaded. “I really think—”
“Please,” I growled through my teeth. “Do not tell them.”
Mona flinched at my tone, closed her eyes, and nodded quickly.
Fuck.
I hated getting on her like that. She didn’t deserve it.
I reached out and placed my hand on top of one of hers and squeezed, prompting her eyes to open.
“Appreciate you doing this and everything else. Means a lot,” I said. “Knowing how you feel about what I’m doing, that means something, too.”
Her mouth relaxed and lifted softly.
“You’re a good man, Brian. I hope one day you’ll believe that.”
I gave an easy smile to appease her. I needed to get going and I had zero fucking time to argue that one.
Pulling back, I dropped my head into a nod.
“Thanks again,” I said.
Mona gave me one last smile.
Then I turned without giving that bag another thought and got the hell out of there.
* * *
I knocked again on the front door, this time a little louder, and stepped back, waiting to be let inside.
A muffled yell came from Tori’s house. I couldn’t make out what Syd was saying and I knew it was Syd since she was the only one here, her car being the only one in the driveway, so I tested the knob and it turned willingly, allowing me to ease the door open and step inside.
“Syd,” I called out, shutting the door behind me as my eyes scanned the room.
Tori’s house was fucking impressive. On the smaller side, but you could tell there was a lot of money in it and not just because of the ocean view.
The decorating was some fancy shit.
It reminded me of Jamie’s parents’ house. Everything was either dark oak or leather, and the art hanging on the walls looked like something Oliver or Liv could’ve painted, which meant it wasn’t just fancy shit, it was expensive shit.
“I’m in here! And I’m stressing out so just get back in your car and go home! This was a huge mistake!”
Laughing, I moved through the living room and around the corner where the noise was coming from.
It couldn’t have been that bad.
Syd was in the kitchen at the stove, bent at the waist with her head in the oven as thick smoke billowed out around her and into the air.
It was that bad.
“Shit!” she yelled, pulling a dish out and sitting it on the burner. She kicked the door closed and waved her hands over the charred remains, murmuring, “No no no no.”
“Babe.”
The smoke detector sounded loudly from the hallway.
“Oh, God, not again,” Syd groaned, covering her face.
Jesus. She was definitely stressing.
I fought a smile as I grabbed a dish towel off the counter, moved out of the room, and stood below the detector, reached up, disabled it, then took the towel and fanned the air to clear the smoke so it wouldn’t go off again.
When I stepped back into the kitchen, Syd was still standing at the stove, facing it with her head down, only now she was massaging her temples.
I came up behind her, wrapped my arm around her apron-covered waist, pulled her back against me, and dropped my head beside hers, breathing in the apple-scented shampoo she used in her hair.
“I don’t know what I did,” she admitted in a small voice, lowering her arms and gesturing at the dish, which at this point was unrecognizable, blackened, and still smoking.
I couldn’t make out what she was going for.
“I followed the recipe perfectly, double-checking my steps and the ingredients before mixing everything together, and I know I set the oven temperature right. I triple-checked that.”
I kissed her temple.
“What were you making?”
“Homemade chicken potpie with all kinds of yummy veggies and spices, all beautifully contained in a made-from-scratch pie dough.”
Shit. That sounded really fucking good.
She sighed in defeat, then said on a whisper, “I wanted to do this for you so bad, and I’ve messed it up.”
I gave her a squeeze, let her go, then moved to the counter where she had mixing bowls, cutting boards, and measuring spoons laid out, found the recipe she had printed, and picked it up, reading the cooking instructions.
“You take it out after forty-five minutes?” I asked, looking over at Wild.
She slowly turned her head.
“Forty-five minutes?” she echoed with a suspicious pout. “No. Why would I do that?”
“’Cause that’s the cooking time.”
“What? No it isn’t!”
She eliminated the space between us in three quick steps, yanked the recipe out of my hand while pulling a pair of red-framed glasses out of the front pocket of her apron and sliding them up her nose, then began scanning the paper frantically.
Glasses like that would be cute on anyone else.
They weren’t cute on Wild. They were sexy as shit.
“Like those,” I observed, watching warm hazels lift and peer up at me through the lenses.
She gave me a small smile and a sweet, “Thanks,” returned her gaze to the paper, and continued scanning.
I bent closer. “Want you wearing them the next time we fuck.”
With a gasp, her eyes snapped to mine again, this time going round.
I leaned back.
“Oh,” she breathed, swallowed, then added a quick, “O-okay. Yeah, that’s totally doable.”
Smirking, I jerked my chin at the paper.
“Back to it. You said forty-five minutes isn’t the cooking time, babe.”
With a frown, Syd resumed scanning the paper.
“There was no cooking time. It says right here, look”—she pointed at the bottom of the page—“put it in the oven, walk away, completely forget about it, and come dangerously close to burning the crust.” She looked up at me. “I did exactly those things.”
My eyebrows rose.
“Think you went a little further than coming dangerously close to burning the crust. I had no idea that was potpie.”
Her eyes narrowed. She stood on her toes and tipped her chin up.
I bit back a smile.
Fucking loved it when she challenged me like that. Her sass made my dick hard.
“It told me to walk away and forget about it. I was just following directions,” she snapped.
“Not all of them.”
I grabbed her hand and moved her finger to the top of the page, indicating where I’d been reading.
She gasped. “Look how tiny that is! Who can read that?” Her head whipped around and she glared at the stove. “I can’t believe this. I followed the recipe perfectly. It took me ages cutting up those vegetables. I cut myself twice, but I recovered. Everything else was simple. I even brushed egg wash on the crust so it would golden up and made a pretty design with a fork around the edges, and you can’t even tell. I’m not even sure it has edges anymore.”
I slid my hand to her hip.
“Wild.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t see the time, or question what I was doing.” She looked up at me with pleading eyes. “There’s something wrong with me. I let myself forget about what I was making. That’s insane! Who does that?”
Before I could answer, Syd lowered her head and crumpled up the recipe, holding it tight in her fist.
“I am so mad at myself,” she whispered brokenly.
Fuck that.
I moved her over so I could grab a spoon off the counter, stepped in front of the stove, leaned over it with a hand bracing on the granite, and dug into the burnt potpie. I got to the meat and vegetables baked inside, heaped a spoonful of them, and ate a mouthful.
I’d eat this whole fucking thing if it made her feel better.
“What are you doing?” Syd questioned at my back, her voice growing closer.
“Eatin’.” I scooped out some more, shoved it in my mouth, and said around the steaming bite, “Not into wasting something my girl took time to make for me. I’m finishing this.”
“Brian, don’t.” She wrapped her hand around my bicep and pulled. “It’s ruined. Look at it.”
I kept eating.
She pulled harder, laughing when I went in for a fourth spoonful.
“That can’t be good. Seriously. Stop. Come on.”
I swallowed my bite and dug around for more.
“Not bad, actually,” I said. “Once you get past the bitter, it’s good. I like the chicken.” Lifting the spoon to my mouth, I turned my head and peered over my shoulder, letting her watch me eat it. “Hope you made something else for you ’cause I’m eatin’ this whole thing and not into sharing.”
Syd laughed harder, tossed the crumpled recipe onto the counter, reached up, and covered my mouth with her hand as her other wrapped around the front of my waist and pulled me back, forcing me to leave the spoon in the dish and turning me away from the stove.
“Okay okay okay. You’ve made your point.”
I moved willingly this time, waited until her hand slid off my mouth so I could speak, then asked, “And what’s that?”
“That you’re incredible.”
I blinked, chewed up the rest of my mouthful, then swallowed it down.
She slid her hands up my arms to my shoulders and linked them around my neck, pressed her front against mine, and tipped her head back.
“You make everything better,” she admitted softly, running her tongue over her lips to wet them while coming up on her toes and getting closer, further admitting, “You make my entire world better.”
My hands, fitted around her waist, tightened. Warmth spread out from the center of my chest.
I dropped my head until it touched hers and closed my eyes, holding her and breathing easy, concentrating on every part of Wild’s body I could feel against mine and the sound of her living—shallow heartbeats and expanding lungs pushing life through her.
Best thing I’d ever felt.
Best thing I’d ever held.
Best girl period.
“Like hearing you say that,” I murmured, opening my eyes.
Her hands gave my neck a squeeze.
“Like saying it,” she whispered back.
I smiled, then pulled away but only because a phone started ringing and it wasn’t mine.
Sliding her hands down and off me slowly, Syd spun around and picked up her phone off the counter by the sink, looked at the screen with a curious tilt of her head, mumbled something about not knowing the number, then pressed a button, answering it and bringing it to her ear.
“Hello?” Her shoulders pulled back and her eyes lit up with alertness. “Yes it is. Oh, yes, hi, how are you?”
I watched and listened with interest, noting the mood this call was putting my girl in and appreciating whoever it was on the other line.
Syd answered a few yes and no questions, speaking quickly the way she did when she was excited about something, while she moved along the counter back and forth, finger twirling a lock of red and anxious eyes capturing mine every few steps. This only lasted a couple of minutes, then she was telling the caller to hold on so she could open a drawer and pull out a piece of paper and a pen, telling them to continue when she was done and jotting something down while pinching the phone between her ear and shoulder.
“Great! No, that works perfect. I can absolutely do Monday morning,” she said, straightening and holding on to the phone again. “Yes. Okay. Thank you so much.” She disconnected the call, set the phone down, and turned her head, smiling big as she walked over. “Guess what?”
“What?”
“That was the job I applied for at NHC. The one that had been open for eight months and I thought for sure was filled already. They want me to interview for it.”
“That’s great. You can get back into x-ray.” I picked up the lock of hair she’d been twirling and I tucked it behind her ear, watching her mouth twist into a pout. “You want that, right?”
She hesitated, then answered, “Yeah, I do, I just…I love Whitecaps,” she replied, pressing her hands to my chest. “And I don’t want to short-staff Nate. He’s got so much going on. I’d like to keep working there if I can.” She looked down for a minute to think, sucked on her bottom lip, then looked back up to add, “Once I find out the hours on Monday, I can see if something is manageable.”
Grabbing her hips, I told her, “If it isn’t, if your hours at the hospital don’t allow for you to keep helping out at Whitecaps, you don’t need to worry over it. Nate will understand. Knew it was a possibility you’d be leaving.”
Syd lifted her chin.
“I won’t worry over it,” she whispered.
“Good.” I pulled at the tie on her apron. “Take this off. Wanna take you out to celebrate you getting a new job. This calls for Italian.”
She obliged me and slipped the apron over her head, doing it wearing a look of confusion.
“I didn’t get it yet,” she corrected, tossing the apron on the counter.
“You got it, babe. They’d be stupid not to hire you.”
Syd’s cheeks pinked up again and she gave me that, letting me see it before turning around, grabbing that same paper she’d written on, and quickly jotting something else down.
“Want to make sure Tori doesn’t eat that potpie,” she said while her hand scrawled. “She’ll be home soon from the hair salon and I doubt she’s had dinner.”
I thought Syd was in the clear with Tori leaving that potpie alone, but I kept my mouth shut.
I loved her sass but I wanted to hold on to her sweet right now.