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“We’re going to live here for a few months. Don’t you think we should do something about…” I shrug, moving my hands from her to me. “To avoid fighting over nothing? It’s Luna Harbor. We’re bound to see each other often.”
“No. I keep to myself,” she states. “I’ll make sure to put up a sign, though. It’ll be right next to the door. No Cantús allowed.”
ChapterSeven
Siobhan
My excuse isthat I am overworked, overwhelmed, and undersexed. The last may not be a word, but it is true—I hadn’t had sex in so long. Iskander Cantú might be part of the scumbag sibling society—Nydia’s nickname for them—but he is hotter than the sun and sexier than Jason Momoa. My current condition created the perfect storm or the perfect brain fog.
I wouldn’t have gone to the inn with the guy under different circumstances, nor would I have dragged him into the janitor’s closet.
As excuses go, those are perfect, but if Mr. Matthews or Mr. Cantú find out, they won’t care about any of them. I can’t say that he took advantage of me. He didn’t. I wanted it. I wanted those strong corded arms around me.
Siobhan, snap out of it. Smell the wildflowers and the pink slip that might hit your desk as early as Monday.
The guy is going to think you fuck clients in the middle of the day. Your ass will hit the next ferry to Seattle soon if you don’t solve this issue pronto.
I breathe as my feet hit the asphalt. Iskander might’ve ruined my running time but I can’t let things go. My mind keeps replaying the time at the inn and the quickie in the closet. The guy knows the how, where, and what to touch to make it just perfect. Remembering how his fingers branded every inch of my skin makes me blush. I’m fucking blushing in the middle of my run, and it has nothing to do with the current activity.
Could this be more embarrassing?
Probably, and I don’t want to think about it because I’m setting myself up for another mishap.
No.
I stop when my watch buzzes. It’s a text from Mr. Matthews.
Mr. M: Take the rest of the weekend off.
Siobhan: The weekend is our busiest time of the week.
Mr. M: Three of my nephews are in town. They can manage well enough.
Siobhan: Am I fired?
Mr. M: Why would you think that? The kids are here because we need more help. I thought that’s what you wanted.
Kids? His nephew is a thirty-some-year-old man. Not a child.
Mr. M: It’s definitely what you and the businesses need.
Mr. M: I’m leaving for Seattle, and I won’t come back until Diego is ready to go home.
Well, they say be careful what you wish for. I breathe a little easier knowing I’m not losing my job for now. However, I don’t see any promise that they won’t fire me after I teach them my procedures.
Siobhan: Should I be searching for a new job?
Mr. M: Girl, you need to stop doubting yourself. I told you once and I’ll tell you again, this job is yours for as long as you want it.
Siobhan: Thank you.
Mr. M: Make sure to keep those boys in line. Nydia knows how to handle them. They can be rowdy.
Siobhan: I’ll keep an eye on them.
* * *
Nydia and I decide to take a break from everything, even cooking. Against her wishes, I place our food order at the sports bar. She offers to come and pick it up with me. As we walk down Luna Lane, I ask, “How is it possible that Iskander is Mr. Matthew’s nephew?”
