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In an instant, I’m on my feet.
A tearful Stella stumbles into the living room with her favorite one-eyed rag doll, tangling herself up around my legs. “Daddy, I had a nightmare…” she wails, clinging onto me.
My head is spinning from the whiplash, but I keep my voice calm and reassuring. “You’re okay, Princess.” I sweep my little girl off her feet and she buries her sweaty head in my neck.
Clutching her to my chest, I soothe and comfort her as she struggles to get her words out, explaining her dream to me.
I glance at Inez as she straightens herself on the couch, adjusting her clothes and staring up at me with guilty eyes.
“I need to take care of her,” I say, stroking my hand up and down my daughter’s shaking back.
Inez nods vigorously. Again and again and again. “Of course…Go. Take care of her.”
Carrying my child to her bedroom, I lay her down in her tiny princess bed. We talk through her nightmare. Then I sing her that Beatles song she likes so much. I assure her that she’s fine, that everything’s okay, that I’ll stay with her until she falls asleep again.
And I keep my word. I don’t stop stroking her back until she’s safely returned to dreamland.
Then I tiptoe back through the house, anxious to see where things stand with Inez and me. Will she still want me? Or is the moment over? Has she snapped back to her senses by now?
When I step into the living room, Inez is gone.
The cushions have been rearranged. The leftover snacks have been cleaned up. The television has been turned off. And Inez is nowhere in sight.
That’s all the answer I need.
A red flag. That’s what she sees when she looks at me. And she’s right.
With all the baggage I’m carrying, I can’t help but agree.
10
INEZ
Igrab a laminated menu off the counter and fan myself, all hot and sticky from running around this evening. I’m still catching my breath even though I’ve already been on break for a couple minutes.
It’s a busy Friday night which is pretty normal for this place. But after being away for a few months, it’s clear that I’m out of practice.And maybe a little out of shape, if I’m being honest.
We just finished up with our big evening rush, so I duck into the kitchen to hang out for a minute. When the cook offers to whip up a chicken wrap for me, I can’t refuse the offer.
I missed Joe while I was gone. He’s a funny old man who’s never short on fascinating stories from the good ole days. I’m snort-giggling dorkishly at a story he just told me—one I’m pretty sure is more fiction than fact—when Nolan passes through the kitchen. He’s got his head in his clipboard as he makes his way to his office in the back.
Eyes lingering on Nolan, I struggle to pay attention to Joe’s story. Boss Man is wearing a denim button-down shirt tonight. The fabric clings to his wide shoulders and hints at his tight abdomen beneath. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing off his strong, tanned forearms.
I have a confession to make. I have a thing for guys in denim shirts.
I recall the muscled perfection of Nolan’s forearm draped around me as we sat together on his couch the other night, watching the movie.
I shiver.
I’ve done my best to not think about that moment from a few nights ago. But my mind keeps dragging me back there, no matter what I do. The electricity in his touch. The gravel in his words. The lust in his eyes. The kiss that almost happened…but didn’t.
Meanwhile, Nolan has been keeping all contact and conversation with me to a bare minimum. He’s being his grumpy self again, and this time, I don’t blame him.
Let’s just say things have been ‘strained’ between us. Tuesday night’s almost-kiss led to Wednesday morning’s stilted ‘hello’ in the hallway and last night’s awkward shift at the bar. And who knows what’s in store for us as we work together tonight?
At this point, I’d bet Nolan is majorly regretting that he freaking kidnapped my suitcase and forced me to move in with him only a few days ago!!
But this awkwardness is all my fault. I’m the one who got scared when the lips I’ve been wondering about for years were only inches away from mine. I’m the one who ran away like a coward the minute Nolan went to take care of Stella. I’m the one who chickened out.
