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owen
Shutting off the truck,I leaned over to the passenger seat and grabbed the lunch bag and small six-pack of ginger ale before pushing the door open and climbing out.
I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Carolina since watching her drive off earlier. Every time I came into the trailer to do something, there was a definite sense of something missing, and I knew exactly what it was.
Her smile.
In the four months since she’d started working for me, I was used to coming into the office every day and being greeted by her smile. The best part of it was that every day, little by little, that smile got more genuine until it felt like maybe all that sadness she kept in her heart had finally escaped.
It was arrogant, but I liked to tell myself it was partially because of me that it had happened. Not that I’d done anything other than invite her to work for me. Although, the guys had taken to her immediately, and they all looked at her as the mother hen of our brood.
Everyone but me.
Try as I might to see her like that, for the sake of professionality, I couldn’t help the way my heart kicked up its pace when I saw her. How when she moved in front of me, my body responded to the point where the only relief I could get was later that night in the shower, imagining her crying out my name as she came around my cock.
Damn it. I had it hard for her, and she only saw me as one of her “boys”—just like everyone else.
Knocking on her door, I stepped back and surveyed the small apartment complex she was living in. There weren’t that many run-down areas of Sage River. For the most part, everyone took pride in our small town, but this apartment had definitely seen better days. It could’ve used a facelift or five.
“Owen.” She peered at me through the small crack before opening the door wider. “What are you doing here?”
“I brought you some provisions.” I smiled, lifting the lunch bag and sodas. “I know when I’m feeling like shit, there’s nothing quite like a chicken noodle soup and ginger ale.”
“Oh.” She finished opening the door and stepped back to let me in. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you.”
“Hey, we’re family,” I said as jovially as I could while cringing internally. Being family was not the lasting impression I wanted her to have of me.
Stepping into the apartment, the light in the hallway flickered slightly before resuming its dull cast on the threadbare carpet under my feet.
Definitely needs a facelift.
“Which way to the kitchen?”
“This way.” She closed the door behind me, her breasts brushing against my elbow as she did, and I felt her stiffen as she looked up at me to see if I’d noticed. My cock had. Down boy.
She turned quickly and hurried away from me to the kitchen, flicking on another sad light that did little to illuminate the space. Maybe it was for the best. My eyes found peeling wallpaper in the corner and fissures along the ceiling. The more I saw of this place, the angrier I became.
Letting her live here almost felt like a crime. Maybe I needed to give her a pay raise to afford a better place because this certainly wasn’t it.
“Thanks again.” She turned and held out her hand as I passed off my offering to her. She set it down on the counter, unzipping the bag as she removed the plastic container of soup.
“How are you feeling?” I had two places I could look. I could either continue my mental inspection of this place, or I could stare at her. And the more I took in her living arrangements, the worse I felt. I’d rather her think I was lecherous and leery at this point instead of feeling like I wanted to demolish this place with my bare hands.
“Better, thank you. Food will be good. I’ve been nervous to eat.” She transferred some of the soup to a bowl and glanced at me, “Would you like some?”
“I’m good, thanks.” I moved to her side, touching her arm. “Why don’t you sit? I can do this for you.” She opened her mouth, and I saw the argument in her eye, so I cut her off quickly. “I insist.”
She took a few more seconds to accept before she turned away and made her way over to the small kitchen table. Grabbing the bowl, I carried it over to her microwave and popped it inside for thirty seconds before beginning my search for a cup. After finding it in a cupboard that creaked when it opened, I poured some out and carried it over to her.
“Thank you. You really don’t have to do all of this.”
“It sucks to be sick and have to be your own caretaker. I’ve been there. It’s really no big thing.”
She smiled and looked uncertain for a second. I suspected she would try to argue again, so I began to turn away when she touched my arm, drawing my attention back to her.
“I have to confess something.”
“Oka … y?”
