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He hands me the card. “Thanks. I actually just left a position, so I will definitely give you a call after New Year’s.”
Dad and I say goodbye to Sam and Louisa, who leave a cash tip as fat as a slice of birthday cake. As I close the door behind them, I hear my dad sigh heavily.
“You quit your job or did you get fired?” he asks.
I bristle. “I quit.”
He doesn’t ask why, just shakes his head. “You’ve been here two damn days, and you’re already angling for a way out.”
“The hell’s your problem?”
“What are you gonna tell Noelle? That Christmas was fun, but you don’t do commitment, so she should go find herself a stepbrother who does?”
“If her dad’s anything like Mom—which it sounds like he is—that’ll happen regardless.” I scowl. He looks tired, but so am I—tired of his shit. “You do realize she has to go back to her real life after Christmas, right?”
“She’s getting invested.” he says.
“No,you’regetting invested. Don’t put this on her. She knows exactly what this is.”
“And what is it? In your mind, what is all of this?”
“Not a father-son bonding exercise, that’s for damn sure.” I pocket Sam’s business card and leave the tip for Noelle. “Figures you’d find a way to be pissed over something that would make most parents proud.”
“Sorry I didn’t slap you on the back for walking away from your family for the hundredth time. And last time I checked, you didn’t need my approval.”
He hangs his coat on the rack and goes upstairs. Noelle returns from the lobby, and though I’m still bristling from the fight with my dad, I flash her what I hope is a convincing smile.
“Hope you’ve got room in your wallet,” I say.
Chapter Eight
Noelle
The tension between Colton and Sawyer plays out in their body language. In the way they pass the salt, how they avoid each other’s gazes, that they only speak directly to me and not to each other.
“You were amazing today,” Sawyer says. “Frida would be proud.”
I smile around a mouthful of fluffy mashed potatoes. “I was just doing my job.”
“It wasn’t your job,” Colton says, his hair still damp and spiky from the shower. “But it sounds like you’d be great at it.”
“I wish it could be my job.” I spear a piece of carrot onto my fork, even though my stomach is plenty full. Everything is so damn good; I cannot stop eating. “I guess it could be, after college. God, when I think about going back to school, I just want to crawl under the covers and go to sleep.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Sawyer says. “Go back, I mean.”
The thought of never having to sit through another boring lecture or write another research paper sounds like heaven. “My dad would kill me if I dropped out.”
“Fuck him,” Sawyer says. “It’s your life. He doesn’t get to tell you how to live it.” Though he’s looking at me, I have a feeling the attitude behind the statement was intended for someone else.
Colton sets his fork down with a clink. “I’m gonna go try to catch some sleep. I’ll have to head back out to plow in a few hours.”
I glance between these beautiful, stubborn men. Both irresistible in their own way. I don’t know why they’re fighting, but I suspect it has something to do with me. If that’s the case, I’m happy to take the issue inside me, help them turn their frustration into something beneficial. For all of us.
“Maybe I can help you get to sleep a little faster,” I say.
Heat and understanding flare in Colton’s gaze. “I wouldn’t turn down help from you.”
I look to Sawyer, who frowns at the leftover potatoes on his plate. “You guys go on. I’ll take care of the dishes.”
