Adventures in Online Dating Page 12

  The next day was a lecture regarding ordering in bulk and the amount he could save if he dedicated more of the storeroom to storage rather than lockers. “There are never more than four people working at a time. Make people take their things home at the end of their shifts so you only need four lockers and can use the rest of the space for supplies. It should cut your ordering costs by twenty percent easily.”

  Then Thursday she hit him with more numbers. “Seventy-six percent of people respond to seasonal advertising. Have you thought about what you’re going to do for Christmas? You should have a plan in place, but don’t start putting it out too early. Eighty-one percent of people are annoyed with holiday decorations and sales too far in advance. For a business like this, thirty to forty-five days prior to the holiday seems to be the sweet spot. Earlier, and you risk alienating customers. Later, and you won’t reap the full rewards of your promotion.”

  By Friday, his head was rolling with numbers, and he’d barely had a chance to talk to her about them. Finally, once the rush had died, he pulled her into the storeroom. “Look, I’m not sure what I did, but as good as I am with your fun and casual plan, I’m wondering where the fun went.”

  “I’ve just been busy.”

  “And this weekend you have the boys.”

  “As well as another Marflow and Rath event tomorrow.” He perked up at that. Maybe she was going to ask. He’d get the damn limo again if she wanted. “Fortunately, this is one I can attend alone, but it’s been a busy week.”

  So much for that date-night plan. “Dinner? Can we do dinner? Tonight? Or Sunday?”

  “I can’t ditch the boys two nights of the weekend. It’s not fair to them.”

  Desperation made him offer, “I can make dinner for all of you. I just want to be able to see you more than the hour we work together here.”

  She shook her head like that was the craziest suggestion she’d ever heard. “No. My life with you is separate from my life with the kids. Remember? That was the only way this was going to work.”

  “Right.” He ground his teeth together for a minute as he tried not to lash out. But she needed to understand where he was coming from. “The only problem with that is there is no this right now. The last time we had sex was a week ago. The time before that was another week before that. Now you aren’t even hanging out here where I can take a break and we can talk. No sex and no conversation means no this to make work.”

  She actually gave him the consideration of looking chagrined and ran her hand up the length of his arm to grip his biceps. “I’m sorry. I swear this week has just been a mess. I’ll make it up to you next week. In fact, if you’re interested, you could save your break for after the rush. We could have a little rendezvous in your office. Make the rest of your workday go by quicker.”

  Fuck, that sounds like a slice of heaven in the middle of the day. “And the kids?”

  “They’ll be fine for a few minutes longer. I mean, your break is only fifteen minutes, twenty if we stretch it.”

  Laughing, he leaned his forehead against hers. “You and your damn twenty minutes.”

  She kissed him softly. “If you live life twenty minutes at a time, you’re not really dwelling on the future, right? Isn’t that what you wanted for me? Less planning?”

  He growled against her mouth. “Woman. I want you for me. I want me for you. But, yes, I’ll take you living life more in the moment however I can get it.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt the truth in them. There wasn’t anyone else for him. He wanted Alexa and would do whatever it took to make her see how perfect they were for each other.

  “Then I’ll see you Monday…for an hour and twenty minutes.”

  …

  “What do you mean, you’re sick?” Alexa practically screamed into the phone, which really wasn’t fair.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know if it’s food poisoning or the stomach flu, but I spent all last night throwing up. There’s no way I can hang with the boys tonight,” Jessica said.

  She couldn’t exactly argue. “Okay. Feel better.”

  “Thanks.”

  Alexa hung up the house phone, wishing like hell for the old phones you could slam into the cradle to let go of frustration. After last week at the Marflow and Rath dinner, Rath himself had asked her about her evening with a raised eyebrow—the implication being she’d done something wrong. Of course, Rath didn’t clarify what he meant by that, be it the scotch at the end of the night, the parting glare Alexa had shot his wife for her catty commentary, or bringing Marshall with her in the first place. He didn’t need to clarify because the message was clear enough: even for a contractor, M & R had certain expectations. She’d spent all week trying to prove she lived up to them.

  Regardless of the cause, if she wanted to keep the checks from Marflow and Rath coming, she needed to be at tonight’s launch. They’d be collecting data from the guests, and they wanted her insight to the numbers in real time.

  And Jessica was the only person she could leave with the boys. If it had just been Beau and Blake, she could have gotten anyone, but at thirteen, Brendan insisted he was “too old” for a babysitter. She couldn’t really argue, but while she had no problem leaving him for an hour or so after school, a long night out was something else entirely.

  Which meant she needed to find a babysitter at the last minute who would feel as much—if not more—like a friend to her eldest son. The only reason Jessica worked was that she’d been the boys’ sitter for years. She’d started when Blake was a baby and Brendan was nine. Now she was twenty, but she could sit and talk to Brendan about high school and prepping for college.

  They didn’t have another sitter like that. Younger and it’d be close enough to his age to be offensive. Unless it was one of his friends, but she wasn’t comfortable leaving two teenage boys in charge of her younger sons. Older would feel too much like she was having someone watch him.

  Her mental ravings came to a screeching halt.

  There was one other option. It was a horrible option. One she never would have contemplated two weeks ago, but considering her precarious position with Rath, she didn’t have a lot of choices left.

  She swallowed her pride, grabbed her cell phone, and pulled up the number she’d sworn she would only use for one thing—sex.

  “Marshall? You know that event I have to go to tonight? Well, if you don’t already have plans, I have a huge favor to ask.”

  …

  When Alexa had called and asked him to come hang out with her sons for the night, he’d thought she was kidding. Then she explained the whole “babysitter” issue, and he wasn’t sure if suddenly being cool enough to be considered a friend to her thirteen-year-old was an insult or not.

  It didn’t matter, because here he was, standing on her stoop and ringing the doorbell. He tried not to take in the house or the neighborhood. Like the party last week, he didn’t really feel like he belonged here with the immaculately manicured lawn, the elaborate landscaping, and the weird security spotlights that shone down from the roofline of half the homes.

  But he belonged with Alexa, and if she belonged here, he’d damn well get used to it.

  She opened the door wearing a very proper navy blue suit with a prim and buttoned-up-straight-to-her-throat blouse. As much as he wanted to get the sexy librarian vibe, it was actually too austere for that. There was absolutely nothing about her look that even hinted at sex. No, this suit demanded respect.

  “New look,” he said, stepping inside a foyer with a chandelier dangling overhead. He knew it wasn’t a McMansion—his parents had lived in an earlier version of a house like this—but compared to his apartment, the place was a little overwhelming.

  “Necessary look.” She tipped her head toward the bag in his hands. “You brought it?”

  He snorted a laugh. “Could you try a little harder to make this sound like a drug deal? Yes, I brought it.”

  “You’re the best.” She cast a quick glance around then leaned in and gave
him a quick kiss, as if afraid any longer would guarantee one of her kids catching them in the act of showing affection. “Pizza arrived just before you did, so the boys are eating already. In case you need her, Peyton’s number is on the fridge, and she lives just a few houses down, so she can be here in under five minutes.”

  “We’ll be fine. I know it’s hard to believe, but I was once a teenage boy. I can handle this.” He wanted to grab her and kiss her for real just to erase a tiny bit of the stress lining her brow, but given the circumstances, that would probably do more harm than good. “Just go. I promise, we’ll be fine.”

  She glanced down the hall leading from the foyer and then let out a deep sigh. “Let me at least introduce you first.”

  It was another solid ten minutes before he managed to chase her out the door. As soon as her car pulled out of the drive, he turned to the kids. “Okay, guys, this whole pizza at the dinner table isn’t working for me. Where’s the TV? Let’s eat and game, or eat and movie.”

  The middle one, Beau, piped up, “Mom says food belongs at the table.”

  Brendan winced but sort of agreed. “She’s not a big fan of messes.”

  “Then let’s not make a mess.” Marshall pointed at Beau. “Find something like a picnic blanket.” Then at the little one—Blake. “You find a big box we can use as a table.” Then he turned to Brendan. “And you help me figure out a way to minimize the mess.”

  Within five minutes, they had a new command central in the great room, complete with pizza and Sprite in sippy cups. Then he pulled out a fistful of brand-new video games, tossed them in the middle of their table, and announced, “Pick your poison, guys. We have at least four hours until I have to pretend you went to bed.”

  The way Brendan grinned at him made him think Alexa was right—they were going to get along famously.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Alexa met Marshall at the door, knowing if she let him linger, she’d fall into his arms, then they’d fall into her bed, and she’d have far too much explaining to do in the morning. “So, how’d it go?”

  “Really good,” he said, shrugging on his jacket. “You were right, by the way. I was completely in the minute I suggested video games.”

  “That’s great. I figured it was a way to throw Brendan off the whole babysitter thing. I was more worried about Blake. Five-year-old craziness didn’t drive you nuts?”

  “Nah, I love kids. Would love to have some of my own someday.”

  “What?” Did he really just say that? How has this never come up before now? She’d ditched Joe early on in her dating game for just that reason. What was she supposed to do with the information now that she had it and they’d already been sleeping together?

  He cleared his throat and smiled, possibly misinterpreting her comment and subsequent shell-shock as if she’d been insulted. “That said, your kids are incredibly awesome, but I’d expect nothing less with you as their mom.”

  She forced herself past the initial panic. They were casual, not serious. That was what he wanted, what she’d agreed to, and what they’d driven home only a couple of days earlier. There was nothing to worry about. They’d have their fun, and then Marshall could have his kids…with someone else. “Thanks, but it’s more them, less me.”

  “Speaking of you…” He leaned in close and gave her one lingering kiss. “I wish you’d let me stay…”

  Considering how exhausted she was, they might not even make it up to the bedroom if she gave in to the temptation of falling into his arms right now. That was unacceptable on any level—especially with her thoughts still lingering on his parenting plans. “You know the rules. I’ll see you Monday, and then we can have our twenty minutes.”

  He growled something against her neck, but when she didn’t respond, he kissed her once more. “Never say I didn’t offer. I’ll see you Monday.”

  With a sigh that spoke of all the things she hoped they would do when they had those moments alone, she closed the door behind him and leaned heavily against it.

  She didn’t want to explain it to him, especially since she didn’t fully understand the feelings herself, but tonight had been rough. Not like last week. This had been the sort of rough where she spent the entire night mentally comparing the work she did for Marflow and Rath to the work she did at the Bean Counter. One paid the mortgage on her house. The other felt like it paid the mortgage on her soul. She’d left tonight’s event weary to her bones. She left the Bean Counter achy but jubilant. She needed to sort all of that out and understand it before she could say a word to Marshall.

  Which meant the rest of tonight was made for one thing—crawling into her bed, pulling the blanket up to her chin, and falling blissfully into dreamland. She pushed off the door and made her way to the kitchen, intending on one last glass of wine to send her off to a deep and heavy sleep.

  Instead, she walked into a circle of hell that Dante never envisioned. There was a blanket balled up in a laundry basket. Clean? Dirty? Who knew? Pizza boxes were stacked on the table next to the damn thing and could have been there for hours, which meant she was washing the blanket regardless of what someone else might consider its current state. Dishes were piled in the sink, none of the grease or melted cheese even rinsed off. And there were other dishes, too, at least one of which was soaking in what looked like muddy water. What the hell had happened in her kitchen while she was gone?

  A glance in the family room revealed it in nearly as bad a state. A tornado seemed to have hit there, one that had picked up all the pillows and throws and scattered them around the room.

  Eyes so wide they physically hurt, she surveyed the scene and shuddered out a breath. There would be no last glass of wine. Not for at least another hour, because there was no way in hell she could go to bed and leave things like this.

  As much as Marshall had done her a favor staying with the boys, she’d never had a sitter leave her home in shambles like this. Her only hope was that the damage had been contained to these two rooms.

  Pulling off her suit jacket, she rolled up her sleeves and lugged the blanket to the laundry room. Then on to the tornado disaster zone, and lastly, she tackled the dishes. The place had finally reached an acceptable level of cleanliness just as the washing machine signaled the end of its cycle.

  Which was when she realized she couldn’t go to sleep even yet. She still had to dry the damn thing. Because of a fire that had started due to a dryer malfunction in her apartment in college, she never ran the thing while she was sleeping. A bleary-eyed glance at the clock revealed the ugly truth. She wasn’t going to be able to crawl into her bed until after two.

  And Blake would be up by six, demanding breakfast.

  All of this only served to confirm her earlier suspicions. Marshall was most definitely not the guy she wanted teaching her kids how to be men. Her sons would never do something like this without encouragement.

  Sex and some laughs were all well and good, but whatever she and Marshall had ended there.

  …

  Things were strange after Alexa came back to work. Marshall couldn’t quite put his finger on why. At first, he thought it was a continuation of her day-job stress, but she’d implied that was just a short-term issue. It had been almost a week now since he’d hung out with her kids, and whatever the difference was…it had lingered.

  She hadn’t been kidding about their afternoon interludes. An hour and change behind the counter. Then his break to “talk numbers and strategy.” Claudette rolled her eyes every time he said it. Today had been no different, except she’d added, “You know, Fridays are sometimes busy all day long, right?”

  But they weren’t usually, at least not at this time of day. As soon as they were out of sight, Marshall wrapped an arm around Alexa’s waist and pulled her close. “So, how about stealing away from the kids this weekend to spend a little time with me?”

  Alexa laughed and rattled off something about adding cinnamon to the condiment bar as she unzipped his pants and rolled on the con
dom. She didn’t even give him a chance to agree to the suggestion before climbing onto his lap and sliding onto his cock.

  Damn it. The instant he filled her, all thoughts besides fucking her senseless were banished. She was so freaking wet, like she’d been anticipating this moment since she arrived at the Bean Counter and had been mentally working herself up for the last hour. Maybe it was because she knew it was Friday and this was it for a few days. Then again, that would have implied a willingness to answer… Then she shifted her hips to a new angle and started rotating them.

  “Oh God, woman, when did you learn that trick?” Marshall’s eyes threatened to roll back in his head, and it was all he could do to keep from coming on the spot.

  She leaned down and bit his earlobe gently. “Something Peyton mentioned once. You like it?”

  “Like it?” Marshall growled and stood, pushing the chair out of the way as he shifted them to the desk. If he let her continue controlling things, there was no way he’d last the whole twenty minutes. So he thrust into her, hard and fast, the way he knew drove her up to and over the edge. If he played this right, she’d come more than once.

  Something crashed to the floor on the far side of the desk, but her gasp only made him go harder. He didn’t care what got shoved off the damn thing. He could clean up later. Grabbing her wrist, he brought her hand between them to rub at her clit. As soon as she touched the little pleasure nub, her eyelids fluttered, and her insides tightened around him as the beginning of her first orgasm hit.

  The second came a few minutes after, and he finally allowed himself release.