A knock at the door caught my attention. I furrowed my brow as I looked out the kitchen window. I didn’t know anyone in town who could know where I lived. Then again, I was in my parents’ house. The entire city probably knew where they lived. I sighed as the knock came at the door again, resolving myself to company when I wanted to be alone on a Friday night after work.

“Coming!” I exclaimed.

I padded down the small hallway and reached for the door. I stopped, taking in a deep breath and trying to put on my best smile. But when I opened the door, that fake smile turned into a genuine one.

Because Ira stood there on my porch with a bottle of wine in her hand.

“Care for some company?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t mind it at all, no,” I said.

I stepped off to the side, ushering her into the house. She walked through it like she’d been there on several occasions. Of course, she would have been. She was probably the closest to my parents of those that worked at the restaurant. I shut the door and locked it, then peered out the door window to see if anyone was watching.

I felt like I was on trial for something.

“Would you care for a drink?” Ira called out.

“I’d love one. The corkscrew’s in the—”

I heard the cabinet door open before Ira’s soft grunts came down the hallway.

“Cabinet,” I murmured.

I walked back into the kitchen and saw her working with the wine opener. The noises she was making made my pants feel tight. The way her body sloped and moved as she pried that bottle of wine open left my mouth salivating. Fucking hell, Ira was a beautiful woman. Yet she hid it underneath baggy clothes and jeans that did nothing for that beautiful ass of hers. Still, she was radiant. The starlight pierced the kitchen window as she poured us each a glass of white wine. And when she turned around, her effortless smile filled me with a calming warmth.

“Could we talk?” she asked.

I plucked my glass of wine from her hand.

“About anything you want,” I said.

“What is this I’m hearing about Jason and the restaurant Wednesday?”

“Ah. That.”

“Yes. That. I was at work all day today and you didn’t make one mention of it. Why not?” she asked.

I ushered her to sit down at the table.

“Jason is under the assumption that I’m playing favorites. He thinks I favor you over the rest of the staff because I gave you the day off when you called in,” I said.

“Because my father was sick,” she said.

“Yes.”

“So, he caused a stir about it?”

“Of sorts. He kept it confined to the kitchen, but it was still pretty loud. He ducked out an hour before his shift was over, stating that his father was sick and he needed to go.”

“Oh. So, he’s mocking me now. That’s great,” she said.

“I’m not sure what his deal is, but I’m assuming he’s still kicking back at me for making him be on time for his shifts. Unless you know something different?” I asked.

I watched Ira’s plump lips wrap around the rim of her glass. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, draining her wineglass fluidly. Something else was on her mind. Something she hadn’t spoken up about yet.

I wondered what it was.

“Look, your parents always wanted to do good. And when Jason was first hired on, he was staring down the barrel of spending his adult life in prison,” Ira said.

“What?” I asked.

“He got into a lot of trouble as a kid and as a young adult. At first, him learning the kitchen was community service. Then, it was working two years with my parents for half pay instead of going to jail for four.”

“What was he charged with?” I asked.

“Small things. Petty theft. Yelling too loud up and down the roads. Generally running with the wrong people. Your parents thought they could take him in and show him down the right path. But I don’t know. I don’t know if he deserves it any longer.”

“I’m not sure he does, either,” I said.

“You parents gave him opportunity after opportunity, but he still does what he wants. He still doesn’t quite play by the rules. That’s just how he’s always been, and your parents tolerated it.”

“Well, I won’t. He’s a thirty-one-year-old man. He either shapes up, or he ships out.”

“That one of those military sayings?” she asked, grinning.

“More or less,” I said, smiling.

A pause fell between us as I finished off my glass of wine.

“I’m sorry for putting you in that position,” Ira said.

I furrowed my brow. “What position?”

“You know, that position to give me time off that Jason used as leverage. I should’ve just called someone to come watch him so I could work.”

“No, Ira. Your father is ailing. He needed you. I would have given anyone that time off had they called in with the kind of panic in their voice you had,” I said.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” I asked.

She looked up at me with her big green eyes, and I saw a pain there. A pain that stabbed me in my chest.

“What is it, Ira?” I asked.

Her eyes danced between mine.

“I don’t know if—”

I reached for her hand and took it as she struggled to find her words.

“You can tell me. You can say anything, and it’ll never leave this room,” I said.

Her thumb smoothed across the scars on my hand before she drew in a deep breath.

“Do you regret what happened between us?” she asked.

Her question stunned me into silence.

“Because if you do—”

“No,” I said.

Her eyes held mine as I stood up, tugging her along with me. I slipped my arm around her thick waist. I pulled her soft curves close to me as the moonlight streamed through the kitchen window. I gazed into her beautiful light green eyes, watching them widen as my lips drew closer to hers.

“I could never regret what happened. And Jason? His outburst is nowhere near your fault,” I said.

Then, I closed the distance between us, feeling her cave into me as I caught her in my arms.