The Girl He Needs (15 page)

“Nah, I didn’t hire him. You called it right. He’s an asshat. That’s not a problem I want in a business I plan to buy. You keep sprucing up the place and Mark might never sell it to me. His kid might see it as easy money; you’ve done such an incredible job.” His eyes meet mine and we pause, searching.

I have a million questions but there’s a guarded look in his eyes, one that speaks of sadness, and I know the time isn’t right to probe. I’m guessing he’ll probably regret what he’s shared with me already once the sun comes up. But the sun isn’t up and his finger is making lazy circles on my hip. I reach behind me to find my shorts.

“What are you doing?” he asks. I’ve flipped onto my back and am patting the ground while I smile at him. I find what I’m seeking, and I tuck it into my palm and then come back onto my side, facing him.

“I’m doing this.” I kiss him, slowly at first, enjoying the softness of his lips against mine. But the pull of him hooks me and I struggle to pace myself.

He pushes against my hip, forcing me to lie back, his fingers teasing the lotus flower henna on my lower stomach. “I don’t have another condom.” He slips his fingers between my legs to gently rub my sweet spot.

“OK, we can just do this,” I say between pants. I reach for him, pulling his head to me, and kiss him with all the heat inside me. It’s amazing and terrifying how quickly his touch lights me up and there’s no way I’ll be fulfilled with this level of play. When it comes to McRae, I want to go all the way, every time.

“Wait,” I say, as I lay in his arm, quivering, ready to lose myself in his touch. “If this isn’t enough, we can always use this.” I show him the condom I’ve palmed. The one I stuck in my pocket right after I called him.

“Thank God.” He rests his forehead against mine. “It was going to be torture.”

“Torture, hmm. I may know a few things to ease that.” I wrap my arms around him, pressing myself into his hand.

We explore each other’s body, learning more with each touch. We taste, nip, and suck without reservations. When he eases into me, our eyes meet and hold until our pleasure explodes in cascades of satisfaction. It takes me to a place I’ve never been before and I’m humbled.

It’s a slow night at the bar. To keep myself from perseverating on the lack of contact with Will, I troll the web. My job at Alliance Aviation will be ending soon, as is my lease, but before I can decide on what direction to take I need to know all the options.

“You going on a cruise?” Jayne asks from over my shoulder.

I turn to face her, placing my phone on the counter. “Looking at jobs. They’re hiring for their Mediterranean line. I was thinking of applying. I’m fluent in French so the other Latin-based languages should be a piece of cake.”

“Calling it quits so soon?”

I shake my head. “Just figuring out a contingency plan.”

“Because staying isn’t an option.” She’s without her standard bar accessories, her ledgers. “Pour me a Riesling, please.”

“Why stay if Will doesn’t want me to?” I do as she requests and lean against the bar to continue the conversation.

“Because you like it here. You have friends here.”

“I’m too young to settle. There’s so much life out there to live.” I fill a glass with ice and water for myself, wishing I’d ended this conversation.

Jayne snorts. “Is that what you think the rest of us are doing?”

“If I wanted to have a nine to five career, a steady, and whatever else it is everyone wants I could have stayed home.”

“You could be anything you wanted at home?”

I shake my head. “No, at home I was expected to be a lawyer. Family business and all that.”

“But you can have everything you want here. Or the last place you stayed. Yet, you keep moving on.” She sits back in her chair and sips her wine with an annoyingly know-it-all expression.

“Because I was looking for Will.” I place my hand on my hip.

“You’ve found him, but you’re still planning your escape. Why?” She crosses her legs and if possible reclines even further in the chair, leveling me with a stare.

“Why not?” I grab a wet bar rag and begin wiping down the counter, avoiding her gaze.

“You say you want to know your brother again, but how can that been done when you’re in some foreign port? Through emails? Texts? How’d that work for you before?”

“Where are you going with all this?” Frustrated, I slap the rag against the sink. “Do you know how hard it will be for me to live close to Will knowing he wants nothing to do with me?” If I could drink on the job, I think I would.

“Is it going to be easier in some place like Spain? At least here you’d be close enough should he change his mind.”

I consider her words while running my sweaty palms down my jean skirt. “It would be really hard,” I whisper.

“Some of the most rewarding experiences we have follow a really difficult journey. Pippa would say you have to be open to them, worthy of them.”

Worthy? If I wasn’t worthy enough for Will to allow me to help after his accident, why would I be now?

“Just think about it. For me. I’d really like you to stay. And I’d really like this topped off,” she says, tipping her glass toward me.

“I’ll need distraction,” I say while reaching for the wine bottle. “Keeping busy is keeping me sane.”

She laughs and does such a severe eye roll I’m surprised they don’t pop out. “Yes, darling. Tell me about it. Good thing there’s lots to distract around here. In the spring, we can hit up towns that host your American baseball players. Maybe run some of those bases.” She wags her brows.

I laugh. “And there’s the beach.”

“Manatees to swim with, Bike Week, short trips to the Panhandle for getaways. Wild horses on—”

“You sound like an advert for Florida.” The tension eases from my body.

She shrugs. “I could have opened my shop back in the UK. I’ve plenty of family there, but I like it here. My important family is here. The people I want to see all the time.”

Of all my family members, Will is the only one I’d like to see all the time. Even this new, strange-to-me Will.

“Speaking of distractions, here comes a lovely one. Enjoy it.” She winks and slips off the bar chair. “I think I’ll go give mum a hug.”

McRae is coming toward me. His dark jeans are low slung and show off his narrow waist and powerful thighs nicely. It takes a lot for me not to drool. My mood instantly lightens when he slides into the chair Jayne just vacated.

“What brings you in, McRae?” I don’t bother to contain my smile.

“I wanted to bring you this.” He reaches into his back pocket and produces a folded square that he hands to me.

It’s my paycheck. “You know most companies are automated. It’s easy to do. I can look into it for Mark.”

He sighs and sits angled in the chair, one hand on his upper thigh. “Tell me about it. I’ve been trying to get Mark to automate for over a year. It’ll be one of the first things I change when I buy in.”

“If,” I gently poke.

The waiting and dancing Mark’s had him do drives McRae nuts. He tries to hide it but I’m getting to know him well enough to pick out the signs. Like a clenched jaw and loaded sighs. I get why he stays out of the office. If I had to go to the place where my goals weren’t being actualized every day, I wouldn’t be nearly as nice as he is. The man’s resolve is steely.

“When,” he says with determination. “It’s only a matter of time.”

Who’s he trying to convince, him or me?

“You staying?” I take the receipt and cash from the guy sitting next to him and throw the change into an oversized tip jar.

“I thought I’d have a drink.”

“Giving this whole ‘relaxing’ thing a try?” I tease and hand him a menu.

“If this doesn’t work, I hear there are other ‘ways.’” He does air quotes and smiles.

“Hmm, I may know something about those ‘other methods’ but will they be enough to help you forget about all those papers on your desk? Or that PhD program you need to apply for?”

“If what I’m told is true, I should just skip right to that.” His mouth lifts in that adorable crooked smile of his and he tries to hand back the menu. “I don’t need this. I’ll just have a Guinness. On tap.”

I push it back. “I’m guessing you haven’t had anything to eat since you had lunch at eleven. Am I wrong?” I place the Guinness before him.

He laughs, shakes his head, and opens the menu.

A scrawny, pasty white kid with a rash of bad acne takes the seat next to Brinn. Not a chance he’s anywhere near the legal drinking age.

“And what can I get for you, sir?” I know what’s coming.

The kid clears his voice and gestures to McRae’s beer. “I’ll have what he’s having.”

“All right. Let’s see your ID.” Out of the side of my mouth, I say to McRae, “This oughta be good.”

“You didn’t ask him for his ID,” the kid says, gesturing to Brinn.

“OK, that’s fair.” I hold out my hand. “Let’s see it, McRae. Hand over your ID.”

McRae puts the menu down, turns to face the kid, and while pulling out his wallet says, “I think I recognize you. We graduate together?” His expression is deadpan.

The kid sputters. “I may have been a few years behind you.”

I stifle a laugh and indicate with my head a group of boys who appear to be the same age intently watching their friend.

I show McRae’s license to the teen. “You see that? That’s the year, and when I do basic math it tells me this guy here is twenty-seven. Oh, but lookie here.” A bubble of an idea pops in my head. “It seems McRae here will be twenty-eight tomorrow. Happy birthday, drinks on me.”

He ducks his head.

“Now, let’s see yours,” I say to the kid.

He sighs heavily, pulls out a license, and slowly hands it over. I scan it before turning back to him.

“Listen, I can appreciate a fake ID like the rest of them but this one is poorly done. It says you’re Hispanic and thirty. If you’re going to invest in an ID, at least try to make it as authentic as possible.” I hope to ease my words with a gentle smile.

“You should also know that if I serve you and the police catch me it’s a second degree misdemeanor. Not only could I go to jail for a year, but I’d have to pay a fee that I don’t have. You willing to loan me a couple grand? That doesn’t include what the owners of this place will incur. So I suggest if you want to drink you fly to Europe where the drinking age is much lower. Now, I get that your friends are watching and I’m sorry, but high five for trying.” I hold up a hand and slowly he reaches out and slaps his to mine.

“Here’s what I’m gonna do for you. I’m gonna bring your table some appetizers, on me, and a few virgin drinks. How does that ease the pain?”

The kid shrugs before he smiles and nods. “That sounds OK.”

“Great, but don’t you tell anyone I did this for you or I’ll have kids from everywhere coming in trying to mooch off me. Now scram. Get out of the bar area and get back into the restaurant part.” I shoo him off the stool. “Wait,” I call when he takes a step away. “Tell McRae here happy birthday.”

“Happy birthday,” he mumbles before slinking off. He gives his friends a shrug, but I suppose the mention of free food is what has them high fiving.

“That was nice of you,” McRae says.

“Ha. Poor kid. He’s got balls for trying.” I cut the ID into tiny confetti pieces.

“Remind you of your teenage days?”

I snort. “No, I was too focused on school and college.”

“College? At sixteen?” McRae pauses with his mug halfway to his mouth.

I lean across the bar and come in close. “You may know where my sweet spots are, McRae, but there’re other things you don’t know about me. Like how I finished high school with two years of college already complete.”

“Impressive, and yet I’m not surprised. You try to come off as nearly homeless with your four bags of luggage, yet you can create a spreadsheet in five minutes flat. You act like nothing bothers you, yet your voice breaks every time you talk about your brother. You face off men bigger and stronger than you without blinking and always come out on top.”

What’s with everyone analyzing me tonight? I turn to clear a spot and hide my embarrassment. I hadn’t realized he was paying that close of attention.

When I turn back, he’s staring at me, the menu on the counter.

“So have you decided what it is you want?”

“Besides you?”

“I meant to eat.”

“So did I.”

The heat around us shoots up a thousand degrees.

“I get off really late.”

“It’ll be my birthday then.”

I move closer with only the wood counter between us. “What about vanilla scoop over there? She’s been eyeing you since you sat down.” I look over his shoulder and lift a brow.

He turns in the direction, gives her a wave, and then faces me. “That’s Laura. We aren’t dating.”

“I didn’t ask.” I pour him a new draft to help feign my nonchalance.

“Yes, you did.” He leans one arm on the counter and smirks.

“It’s none of my business what you do outside of our time. That’s part of the deal.”

He’s wrapped his large hand around the mug and is rubbing his thumb over the rim. I can’t stop staring.

“I agree. It’s none of your business. But if you wanted to know I’d tell you.”

“What you want with Ms. Uptight Sweater I’ll never understand. She’s not your type.”

“Given this some thought, have you?” He levels me with a stare.

“No, of course not. I made that assessment just now.”

“Because she’s wearing a sweater, she’s not my type?”

“Because her nails are perfect, her clothes high end, and her friends look just like her. She’s high maintenance, and you do not do high maintenance. There’s no time in your life for it.”

“Right now. Once I get into an ownership position, everything changes. I’d like to settle down one day. Maybe have some kids. You don’t think Laura looks like the type to do that?” He shakes his head in confusion. “Point out a girl who does and I’ll go intro myself right now.”

The glimmer in his eye is a first and it dawns on me that he’s teasing. I respond by throwing a bar towel at his face. “Fine, she’s perfect for you. You can do the missionary position the rest of your life and only kiss with tongue when either of you’ve had too much to drink. Are you ordering food or not?”