Page 29 of Midlife Crisis

“I know nothing about cars.” I giggle to cover the hurt that Hank wouldn’t want me here.

“You don’t need to. We need organization and a determination like yours.” Brut points at the phone. Hank grunts again, and once again, I agree. Old scheduling books and piles of paper line the desk sporting a coffee stain and an old mug which looks like it’s been here a while.

“I could use the money, but you can’t afford me.”

“In two weeks, you’ll have another job with a sales pitch like that. Work here to tie you over,” he encourages. Hank glares at his brother, boring a hole in his head.

“I don’t think so but thank you.” My voice lowers, and now Hank glares at me.

Brut continues. “Just take the job. Please. We could use you, and everyone could use a little extra money. Ask Hank, he knows all about that.”

“Fuck off,” Hank warns.

“Besides, you pretty up the place.” Brut winks, and Hank shoves him, forcing Brut to slip from his balance against the counter.

“You’re asking for it if you start sweet-talking my lady.” The growling voice surprises both Brut and me. My brows rise nearly to my hairline while Brut’s forehead wrinkles. He turns to me and then back to Hank. A long whistle follows.

“If she’s your lady, you better fix things, or I’m in line to take her from you.” Hank punches his brother’s arm like I’ve seen my boys do, only I imagine it hurts a bit more than the sting my kids produce. Brut rubs his upper arm, laughing at his younger sibling before turning to me. He winks. “I’ll be waiting for you, sugar, when he messes this one up.”

+ + +

Brut leaves the room, and the rough voice of Hank startles me.

“Could I speak with you?” He tips his head toward the office to the side of the waiting room we’ve been in, and I stand to follow him. Suddenly, I feel like last woman walking. I remind myself why I’m here—apology and answers—no matter what the result may be.

Hank enters the office and slumps onto the old leather couch, looking indifferent as he glances away from me. He sweeps a hand at the space next him, and I think it’s an offer to sit beside him, but as he rests his large arm on the back of the couch, I decide against sitting. It will be easier to escape if I’m already on my feet. I don’t know why I’m torturing myself, but I need to know some things.

“I think I misunderstood the other night. I mean, you asked me out on a date.” I swallow, blinking rapidly. If I cry, I’ve sealed my fate. Paul hated when I cried. Most men do, right? But I’m emotional today. “But maybe I misinterpreted…everything. And I just need you to tell it to me straight.” I’m unprepared to handle his rejection, but I’ll take whatever he has to say.

“Was the other night a one-night stand? Because I’ve never had one, even when I was single some eighteen years ago. And I just thought…I guess I—” I can’t finish because Hank suddenly crowds my space, cupping my cheeks. The overwhelming stench of gas coming off his fingers permeates the air around us.

“I just need to know if…” I’m swallowing back the lump in my throat when his mouth covers mine. Tender. Sweet. Taking his time. Hank kisses me as if I’m worth the wait. As if I’m an exploration and he’s going to savor every step he takes, memorizing each detail. I’m backed into the desk, but there’s no hint we’ll go where we went before. This is just kissing, and there will be more for the next few minutes.

Drawing back, Hank rubs my cheeks with his thumbs. “I’m making you all dirty.” The comment hints of innuendo.

“I seem to be back at this desk.” I shakily pat the edge, which I’ve been gripping to hold myself steady. My knees tremble from the linger of Hank’s mouth on me. “Maybe I want to get dirty with you.”

“Don’t say things like that.” He chuckles, eying the desk before peering down at me. “This desk is worse than my fingers, and I’ve got a Bentley to repair so my lady gets a job.”

I smile, liking the reference to being his.

“I don’t want to pressure you. This place is a hot mess, but if you need the money, take the job from Brut.”

“I’m fine.” I dismiss the offer with a wave. I don’t want some kind of pity job, but I can already see myself getting antsy just sitting around my house. Some days, I dream of returning to my stay-at-home mom days until I realize no kids are at home and it is only mom. I wallowed in a week of vacation mode bliss, but slowly, panic creeps in at the thought of keeping up private school tuition and Elston’s impending college. I’m too young to retire, especially since I don’t have the means.

“Don’t lie to me.” Hank huffs. “You’re a worrier by nature. I see the wheels spinning. We aren’t hardcore. You can search for jobs here while answering a phone call or two. Besides, after the way you handled Pendelton, Brut may never let you leave.”

I laugh, lowering my head to Hank’s chest. “I’m sorry about that. It’s just…you two were fighting, and the phone was so loud. I had to do something.”

Hank kisses the back of my head, lingering for a moment against mine. “I can’t work here if you don’t want me. I mean, want me to. I’ve already made things so awkward.”

Hank lifts my head, forcing me to look at him.

“My fault, little lady. I got in my head after your kid came in.”

“I’m sorry. He wasn’t supposed to be there. No one is home but me all week.” I sigh, biting my lip to keep from telling him I want him to come back and stay the night. I want a repeat.

“It’s not his fault either. He just wanted his mom. Everything okay today?” I appreciate Hank asking. It warms me to think Elston still needs me at seventeen. However, his fight with his father is more about his dad than me.