The last few weeks have been crazy around the office. Jameson has been distracted and disappearing here and there. Some days I don’t even know why he’s here and have told him to go home. I’m obviously comfortable in my position, and with him, because normally I would never talk to my boss, heck not even a co-worker, that way. But, with Jameson it feels like a brother-sister relationship except he signs my check.
Today is no different. He’s been a mess all day, texting like mad and running his hand through his hair. He seems overly stressed and, honestly, it’s stressing me out. I mentioned his behavior to Ashton and Piper the other night when they were over for cheesecake and a movie. Piper reminded me that just because the girls go to bed early doesn’t mean I must be a hermit. So, over the last few weeks, I’ve hosted the girls and we’ve been rotating movie choices. This week was my choice and I went with a personal favorite, Top Gun. Ashton tried to convince me to watch another Dolly Parton movie, but the minute I whispered, “Volleyball scene” she shut her trap.
Unfortunately, neither Ashton nor Piper were any help with what is going on with Jameson. Piper said she hasn’t seen him much, but when she did, he seemed normal. Ashton refuses to talk about him. I don’t think our relationship has reached the level where I can call her out on her obvious feelings for him, so instead I sit here trying to figure out what the heck is going on. It’s to the point I almost text Owen to find out what is going on. The last thing I need is a boss who checks out, leaving me to deal with clients about projects I don’t understand.
“Hey, Jameson,” I say for the third time with still no response. I wad up a piece of paper and toss it at his head, missing by a mile but catching his attention just the same.
“Huh?”
“I asked if you had the final bids ready for me to prepare for the Morgensterns and Garcias?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’ve been a little distracted lately.”
“I noticed. Is it Julia? Is she doing okay? The baby?”
The day of Jameson’s cookout, his sister went into labor and, although I don’t have all the facts, I know it was not without complications. From what I’ve been told, they almost lost her and the baby. I know how helpless you feel when facing something like the loss of a family member. But, to know there’s a possibility of losing an unborn child? I’d rather not go there.
“Oh, she’s doing great. The little man is growing and healthy as an ox.”
I can tell he’s distracted so I walk over to his side of the office and take a seat in one of the guest chairs. Jameson’s elbows are on the desk with his head resting in his hands. His fingers run through his hair, tugging at the ends. This is the gesture I read about in my romance novels. It’s the same gesture that we always find the heroine dropping her panties for. Good to know it doesn’t have the same effect in real life.
I clear my throat when I realize he hasn’t even noticed I’ve moved seats. Jameson lifts his head and looks up at me, an apologetic smile on his face. I raise my eyebrows in question.
“Something is obviously bothering you, Jameson. You’ve been distracted and it’s like working alone except you’re here. Groaning. Spill.”
“I can’t.” I raise the brow yet again. He shakes his head and response and continues. “I will tell you that I’m going to be better after this weekend. Well, I’ll either be better or worse. But it won’t be this.” He waves a hand across his face for emphasis.
I stand before responding and offer him a smile. “I like you both ways, but since I have your attention, mind going over a few things with me before you head home for the weekend?”
I manage to keep Jameson’s attention for the next hour and he answers a few questions and finalizes the bids I needed. Once he’s left for the weekend with a promise for a much better attitude next week, I realize I have at least another hour left before I can leave and decide to tackle a box of miscellaneous paperwork that’s been taunting me. I only wish I had thought of this before Jameson left because the box is teetering on top of a few others and I’m going to need to either grow four inches or use a step ladder. Since a sudden growth spurt is out of the question, I pull the step ladder from the storage closet and set it up in front of the stack of boxes.
I rummage through my purse until I locate a hair tie and fasten my hair in a messy bun while kicking off my heels. Once my feet are clear and my toes send me little thank yous, I untuck my top from my waistband. The music I’m playing switches and one of my favorite nineties pop songs fills the room. I begin singing along as I climb the two steps to the top of the ladder only to find that I’m still not tall enough for this box. If I stretch just enough, I can reach the handles of the box and tug it toward myself. I manage to pull the box toward me, but the closer it gets to me, the more the stack of boxes it rests on shifts. With a final tug, the box comes barreling toward me and I lose my balance.
Just as I’m about to fly off the step ladder sideways, a pair of hands grips my waist and twists me so I’m straight and my feet are closer to the ground. My hands instinctively go to the arms that hold those hands. My heart is racing and my breath is ragged. I’d love to say it’s from seeing my life flash before my eyes. Or, from the fear and embarrassment of a box falling on me. It’s not. It’s because I know this body. I know this scent.
Owen.
“Whoa there, Minnesota. Ya okay?”
I don’t say anything, I simply stare into his chest. His very solid chest. My feet touch the ground but I don’t move my head or respond to his query. My shirt is askew and suddenly I feel rough and calloused fingers on my skin. The hands that held a solid grip on my waist have shifted and are now just barely under my blouse and touching my skin. Skin that suddenly feels like it’s on fire and covered in ice simultaneously. An awareness takes over my body and I can feel my heartbeat speed up.
I attempt to step back, out of this suddenly intense embrace of sorts, when one of those hands moves from my waist to the side of my face. Fingers touch my hair and I shiver. The hand gently moves my head, forcing my gaze to shift from the gray shirt I’ve been focusing on to a pair of beautiful and soulful eyes.
“Hey, are you okay? You’re shivering. Are you in shock or something? Do you need me to call someone?”
“Whaa…” So eloquent, Minnie.
“Here, sit down. Jesus, I need to turn this shit music off. It’s probably what’s put you into this state.”
Suddenly the room is quiet. Too quiet. I look down and see Owen kneeling before me. The concern on his face is sincere and comforting. I attempt a smile but I’m unsuccessful. So many thoughts run through my head. Not about the fall or near fall, whichever it may have been. No, these are thoughts about how just now, staring at Owen, I felt this overwhelming need to kiss him. To pull his lips to mine. I have no idea where that came from but it needs to go away. This guy is not good for me. He’s a player and a ladies’ man. He offers zero stability, and from the way he flirts, he’s probably got a different girl for every day of the week. No, thank you.
“My music isn’t shit.” That’s my response. Not thank you or sorry I almost fell on my head and you had to catch me. Nope.
Owen laughs and his hand rests on my knee. My eyes jump to his hand and back to his face. He doesn’t seem fazed by the fact that his hand is once again on my body. My very aware body. Dammit, why does he smell so good. Is sweat a scent I’ve ever found sexy before? Not in the slightest. What in the hell is going on here?
“Sorry about that. I was trying to get that box down and I think I may have been a little overly confident in my abilities. Thank you for saving me from falling on my ass.”
“No worries. Honestly, it was for purely selfish reasons.” Owen stands and puts some distance between us. I watch him walk over to a few papers that are on the floor and pick them up, placing them on my desk.
I, on the other hand, don’t move. I simply sit here like a mute and watch him walk around me and pick up the box I was attempting to move. That box felt like it weighed at least a hundred pounds, but he picks it up one-handed and sets it next to my desk.
“What do you mean, selfish reasons?”
“Well, Minnesota,” he begins. Owen’s eyes widen slightly and a smirk appears. Ah yes, the smoldering look also referenced in my romance novels. If only it didn’t turn me into one of the fictitious heroines in my books. But, here I am, sucking in a short breath. Any minute, a voice is going to appear and say, “She released a breath she didn’t know she was holding” and I’ll roll my eyes—or attempt to at least—at the ridiculousness but also at the fact that is exactly what I’m doing. Dammit.
“Yes, Owen,” I say, mimicking his tone slightly. That smirk he was offering turns to a full-fledged smile as he squats down in front of the chair I’m sitting in, his hands resting on either side of me.
“I’ve become a little fond of looking at that ass and I’d prefer it stay intact.” He lifts his hand and I think he’s going to ruin this by tapping my nose, which, by the way, is completely insulting. But he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls it back quickly, like my skin is on fire and he can’t get any closer. Standing, he turns without another word and walks toward the door. Still, I don’t move. Before he walks through the door, he turns to me and winks. “Have a good weekend, Minnesota.” And before I’m able to offer a sarcastic retort, he’s gone and the door closes.
And this is where that narrator fella says, “And Minnesota Walker went home and changed her panties.” Because, seriously, what the hell was that.
When I arrived home, Mrs. Larson was preparing to leave and my mom was outside with the girls. I guess my dad and Linc went fishing this weekend and Mom was bored. Or lonely. I don’t think she appreciates the glory of being home alone. I’ll admit that the first few weekends the girls were gone were hard on me, but now, I relish the weekends they go to my parents.
Since my mom is here, I take the opportunity to sneak into my room and change out of my clothes, use the restroom without an audience, and wash my face. While I’m at it, I pull some clothes from the hamper and start a load of laundry. Once I’ve got the laundry going and pulled a cold bottle of water from the refrigerator, I make my way out to the backyard where my mom and the girls are playing. When Dakota and I talked this week, she told me she was scheduled to transition to the new facility where the focus will be on her depression, grief, and physical therapy sessions. Assuming she actually starts talking to the counselors about the accident and losing Jeff, she may be home within the next two months. My fingers are crossed she’s home by Halloween and will be able to take the girls trick or treating.
“Hey, everyone,” I offer in greeting as I step down onto the grass where everyone is laying on a blanket.
“Hi, honey, how was your day?”
“It was a day, that’s for sure.”
“Everything okay, Minnesota?” As usual, when my mom says my name, I roll my eyes. Funny how when Owen says my name it sends tingles across my spine, but when my mom says it I want to correct her.
“Oh, everything’s fine. What brings you by?”
“Well, I was just running errands and realized I was going home to an empty house this weekend and I wanted to see if I could take the girls tonight instead of tomorrow morning. I thought you’d like the extra night to yourself and I could use the company. Turns out, that house is just a little too big for me all alone.”
“Do you want to stay here? We could have a girls’ night.”
“That’s sweet, but I have a feeling as much as I’m lonely in that house, your dad and brother will be home early because they’ll miss the comforts of home. I’d like to be there when they do.”
“Didn’t they leave today for their trip?”
“Yep, and your dad took eggs, hot dogs, and nothing else. Your brother will have eaten all of that by the time they wake up for breakfast.”
“Are you sure he didn’t do that on purpose? Sounds like something Dad would do.”
We both get a laugh out of that and head inside to pack the girls’ bags. Mom agrees to stay long enough to feed the girls an early dinner and take a bath. I may not have put up much of a fight for her taking them, but I really will miss them and want to have a little time with them today. After the girls are fed and clean, I help Mom buckle them in their seats when I realize they’ll miss their call with Dakota.
“Mom, what about their call with Dakota?”
“Oh, I spoke to her when I was on my way here. She said she was planning to attend a movie tonight so it worked out for everyone because she wouldn’t have to leave the movie to call. I think she’s making friends and being social, which is fantastic. I didn’t want her to think she has to give that up to call the girls.”
“I agree. She needs that balance. Thanks for knowing I do, too. I’ll call you guys tomorrow?”
“Absolutely. Why don’t you get yourself prettied up and go out tonight? Call some friends, hit up a dance club or something.”
“A dance club? Mom, this is Lexington. There are no dance clubs. But, maybe I’ll call my friends and see if they’re up to going out.”
“You know, in my day I didn’t wait for my friends. I went out on my own.”
“What are you talking about? You were married and a mother of two by the time you were twenty-one.”
“True, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t have a good time before then. Okay, I need to get these two home. Have a good night, honey, make good choices.”
“Yes, Mother.”
I stand on the grass watching as my mom pulls out of the driveway and turns down the street. I pull my phone from my back pocket as I head into the house and tap out a quick group text to Ashton and Piper.
Me: I’m kid free for the entire weekend. Girls night?
Piper: Can’t I already promised Ben a date night. Rain check?
Ashton: Sorry, I have plans. Maybe next weekend?
Me: Sure.
Ashton: You should go to the Road. It’s fun and I’ll text Taylor to treat you like family.
Me: By myself?
I place my phone on the counter and pull out the bottle of vodka I have in the freezer while moving over to the cupboard I keep my bar supplies. Just a few quick pours and shakes and I pour myself a perfect dirty martini. I savor the first sip and enjoy the saltiness of the olive juice as it hits each taste bud. Delicious. My phone signals multiple messages and I pick it up to see what I’ve missed.
Piper: Ash, by herself?!
Ashton: Piper, it’s fine. Go Min.
Piper: But BY HERSELF?!!!!
Ashton: Calm your tits MOM. Go Min, I text Taylor and told him if a hot ass blonde comes in and looks too good for the place, that’s you.
Piper: Maybe I’ll give Ben a rain check.
Me: Don’t you dare! You know what? I’m going to go.
Piper: Text me when you get there.
Piper: And when you leave.
Piper: Better yet, I’m going to text you while you’re there and if you don’t answer I’m calling Taylor.
Me: Yes, mom. Go be with your man. I’ll talk to you both later!
Ashton: Leave the woman alone, Pipe. Have fun Min!
Piper: Fine. Bye.
Me: Bye.
Normally I wouldn’t go out to a bar by myself, but something about going to Country Road seems fun and outside of my comfort zone. I think it’s time to be different. To go back to the girl I was before Kent and Corporate America.