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I glance toward the Alaskan who’s moved to staring at me in the kitchen. “Can I use your phone?”
He pulls his cell from his pocket and hands it toward me without hesitation.
Dear Lord, his hands are huge.
“Thanks.” I stare down at the phone and wander away from the kitchen as I search the number for the club I used to work at on the other side of the mountain. Declan has owned the place for years. And while it’s been a long time since I’ve run into him, I know he’ll help me out if he can.
When I find the number, I suck in some air, and press call. Club reception answers and transfers me to Declan’s office.
He picks up right away. “Peyton! How the hell are ya? Addie said she ran into you at the market last week. Said the kids are getting big.” Addie is his wife. They have three beautifulkids and what I’d consider to be the perfect little family. His club, The Barnyard, got a lot of pushback when it first came to the mountain, and it’s mostly visited by out of towners, but the place does well. I worked there briefly before I had the kids, and you could make some serious cash if you danced. One weekend a month, the honky-tonk turns country themed strip club. A weekend at this place and I can make up for all the cash I’ve lost and then some.
“Hey! Yeah, I’m good. Well actually, not so good. That’s why I’m calling.”
“Oh, what’s up?” His tone rises with concern.
“I’m looking for work… temporarily. Something I can do for the weekend to earn some extra money. I had some things come up.”
“Good timing. I’ve got a spot for you tomorrow night if you’re free. There’s a girl out on vacation and we couldn’t find anyone to cover.”
“I’ll take it!” I agree quickly, though I know deep down this is a terrible mistake. I haven’t danced in years. Well, except for the weird two-step shimmy I do with the kids in the kitchen while I’m making dinner, but I’m not sure that counts.
“I’ll put you on the schedule. See you tomorrow at eight.”
I thank Declan again and disconnect the line. What did I do? It’s not that I’m ashamed of stripping, I’m not. It was an honest way of living for a long time, but it feels different with kids. I have to think about how my choices reflect on them now.
I blow out a heavy breath and straighten my dress before heading to the living room where my son is describing every character inStory Botsto a very patient Atlas. This might be his one and only redeeming quality. He’s good with kids.
I hand him back his phone. “Thank you.”
He stands from the couch, looks down at my son, and ruffles his hair. “Why don’t you draw me a picture of all thosebots, and you can tell me about them one by one when I get back with supplies for the roof. Okay?”
Jackson runs off upstairs with new vigor and Atlas draws his attention back toward me. “I see why you can’t punish him now. He’s cute.”
If my stomach weren’t turning from the horrible decisions I were making, then I’d probably be biting back a grin. Instead, I’m blank. “That he is. I, ugh, I can pay you at the end of the week. Is that okay?”
Atlas looks away and back again, stroking his giant hand down over his beard. “If you need more time, I can float you a loan.”
“I don’t need a loan. I’m perfectly good to do all this myself.”
“Even with your phone needing to be replaced?”
I stand taller. “I have pride, Mr. Laskin. I can take care of my family.”
He glances to the side then steps forward, leaning into my ear as though he’s going to whisper.
Why the hell is he doing that?
Why does he smell like the forest? Why do I want him to touch me with those big, rough, working man hands? From a distance, the man is huge. But up close, he’s a goliath.
My clit reminds me of how attracted to him I am.
I squeeze my thighs together in an attempt to hush her alarms, but she keeps throbbing. In fact, the squeeze seems to insight some wetness.
I need help!
Atlas leans in, his tone is low and graveled as he says in my ear, “I’ve been broke before. I can’t imagine doing it with kids. If you need a loan, I can figure something out.”
My chest tightens as I back away from him. He’s handsome, but clearly, he can’t read a room. “I’m not broke. I’ll have your money by Friday.”
He drags in a deep breath and shakes his head. “I don’t get it. If you’re struggling, it’s okay to ask for he—”
“I don’t need your help, Mr. Laskin. In fact, you should add more money to the total because I want you to get paid fairly for your time. So, what is it… like five hundred more?” I know damn well that I sound like an idiot, but working as hard as I do and being called broke doesn’t hit right.
He shakes his head and steers toward the front door. “Pride is only gonna get you so far, little rabbit.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and try not to come as I reconcile what he’s just said. I think maybe it was an insult, but I’m too lost in the little rabbit part to address any of it… which is going to be a problem.
