Chapter 22
Kai
My start this week is tomorrow night in Boston. We got into the city this afternoon and Isaiah immediately took Max and all his stuff, declaring he was having a sleepover with his nephew tonight.
Even though I strive to spend as much of my time off with my son, it’s good for us both that he creates his own relationships, especially with the people who will be in his life forever.
So, with my evening free, I knock on the door between my hotel room and Miller’s. Bouncing on my toes, nerves rattle through me because it’s been a couple of days since we’ve really spoken.
Well, other than the night following our moment in the kitchen.
I hadn’t talked to her all day, so she snuck back into her van that night to sleep.
Ten minutes later, I barged in, threw her over my shoulder, and put her ass right back in my guest room, reminding her she wasn’t allowed to sleep outside anymore.
For once, I had someone there to celebrate the good moments with me. When Max took his first steps, she was there. And then that evening, with my friends, she fit in seamlessly. And sure, there were some ulterior motives to that dinner.
When the time comes, I want it to be hard for Miller to leave and not just because I’ve enjoyed having her here, but because it’s one of the most important parts of life. Finding people that make your heart ache when they’re not around. Having a place to call home.
Instead of Miller being the one to get lost in the fantasy of her sticking around Chicago, I was the one who did. In what world am I supposed to simply be okay with her leaving?
How the hell am I supposed to forget what her laugh sounds like? What her lips taste like?
I want her. Fuck , do I want her. Any sane, straight man would jump at the opportunity of having her as an unattached fuck buddy the way she wants, but my brain forgot how to do casual all the while my dick is praying I’ll remember.
So yeah, I’m mad at myself because I don’t understand how to have her while knowing that one day soon, I’ll have to let her leave. And instead of growing up and telling her that, I’ve resorted to avoidance.
I knock on our adjoining door once again, but she still doesn’t answer.
I try her phone with no luck.
Finding both Monty and Kennedy’s contacts, I individually shoot them the same text.
Kennedy and Miller seem on the brink of becoming friends regardless that she likes to assume she doesn’t have any. I can see how excited Miller gets anytime Kennedy is around. She’s the only other woman on the road with us, so maybe they’re hanging out now?
Me: Happen to know where Miller is?
Kennedy: No, but your brother won’t stop sending me selfies of him and Max, asking if I want to come over and play house with him.
She forwards me a couple of the images of my brother and son on the floor, playing with toys. The pictures are clearly Isaiah’s newest form of a thirst trap. His playboy thing has never done it for Kennedy, so I guess he’s going with the family man route and seeing if that lands.
Me: Want me to tell him to leave you alone?
Kennedy: I’ve got it handled. I’ve been dealing with your brother for years. When it comes to Isaiah Rhodes, my favorite thing to do is to humble him.
Me: Have fun with that.
Kennedy: I always do.
In a separate text thread, Monty responds.
Monty: Why?
Me: Weird answer. Is she with you?
Monty: What are your intentions with my daughter?
Okay, he’s definitely with Miller. Grabbing my hotel key, I leave my room and head towards his.
Me: This new overprotective dad thing doesn’t track. She lives in a van, and you’re cool with it. She travels all over the country alone for work. No way are my intentions your greatest concern when it comes to her.
Monty: I’m asking a simple question here. So defensive, Ace. I’ve already caught you in bed with her once. Anything else I should know?
Fucking hell.
Taking a few turns down the hallway on our floor, I find Monty’s room and knock.
“Yes?” he asks, cracking the door only slightly.
“Miller here?”
“Anything you’re wanting to tell me?”
“Dad, stop,” I hear Miller scold from the background. With her hand around the door, she opens it fully, exposing her pretty brunette hair and olive-green overalls. “He’s been like this all day.”
“That’s because you two have been acting like strangers. Something clearly happened.”
Well... shit.
Miller ignores him, her eyes tracing my clothes, fully dressed and ready to leave the hotel. “What’s up? Need help with Max?”
“No, he’s with Isaiah tonight, but I was wondering...” My eyes flit to Monty standing behind his daughter, big arms crossed over his chest. He uses two fingers to point to his eyes before directing them my way, telling me he’s watching me. “Can you fucking stop? This is weird, Monty.”
Miller whips around, but he plays it completely cool. “I have no idea what he’s talking about.”
I roll my eyes, redirecting them towards the tattooed beauty. “I was wondering if you wanted to go somewhere with me.”
“Where?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Her greens sparkle. “Baseball Daddy, are you propositioning me to have some fun?”
“Something like that.”
Miller turns back to her dad. “Do you mind?”
“Have her back by curfew.”
Her eyes narrow. “In what fucking world would I have a curfew? I wasn’t asking for permission. Stop being weird. I was just asking if you mind if I don’t finish our movie.”
“Nine p.m. sharp,” is Monty’s only response.
We’re both exhausted of him. “It’s already nine-thirty.”
Grabbing her denim jacket from the couch, Miller pats her dad’s arm. “You should probably rehearse that for next time. I’m sure you could do better.”
The typical smile he wears around his daughter finally cracks through. “I’ve always wanted to play the overbearing dad watching his daughter leave for a date. What would make it more believable next time?”
“I’m not sure, I’ve never had one.” Leaving the hotel room, she offers her dad a quick wave. “See you tomorrow.”
“Love you, Millie.”
“Love you.”
Together we walk to the elevator. “Never had what?” I ask. “An overbearing dad or a date?”
“Neither.” She stops in her tracks, turning in to face me. “This isn’t a date, right?”
“Oh, I know you better than that. I wouldn’t dare take you on a date. That’s way too much commitment for you, Montgomery.”
When our rideshare drops us in the North End of Boston, my hand immediately finds the small of Miller’s back, ushering her towards the bustling building. I’d rather hold her hand, lace our fingers together, but I have to take it slow with her, keep her from overthinking it all.
A line of patrons spills outside and wraps around the corner, and once we get to our spot in the back, Miller takes her time checking out the red brick buildings, trying to piece together where we are.
It’s clear this is Boston’s version of Little Italy, with their Italian flags and string lights draped over the cobblestone roads from building to building.
There’s another bakery across the street that’s as busy as this one, but Rio told me they only had cannoli and that I should bring Miller here instead.
“Are we getting dessert?” she asks as we inch closer to the entrance. Her eyes widen comically when she looks through the windows, spotting countless glass cases filled with sweets. “Holy shit, this is exactly what my heaven looks like.”
“ Your heaven, huh?”
“Yeah, we all have our own versions. Mine looks a lot like this but without all those bullshit glass cases in the way, but somehow, the desserts are still always fresh.” She finally breaks her staring contest with the bakery, turning her attention back to me. “What would yours look like?
“I can ask for anything I want?”
“Anything.”
“Well, I’m not sure what it would look like, but you’d be there and every time we were alone, your clothes would magically disappear right off your body. It’ll be my first request when I get into my heaven. In fact, it’ll be my favorite part.”
She startles with a laugh, and for a woman I find to be funny, my ego grows at a stupid rate every time I get to hear it.
The line starts to move again, and she goes ahead of me, closer and closer to getting inside. From behind I wrap a single arm around the front of her shoulders, the size of my hands and the veins that accompany it contradicting the soft floral lines on her tanned skin.
“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you,” I say softly, my mouth close to her ear.
She grasps my forearm, giving it a squeeze. “It’s okay. You’re apologizing with sugar so clearly, you’re forgiven.”
We step forward with the line, this time making it inside the building, the smell of cinnamon and chocolate hitting us the second we walk through the door.
Miller’s lips curve in a childish smile and it’s so beautifully genuine, I can’t help but watch her instead of the endless glass cases of pastries, cookies, and cakes.
“Okay, what is this place?” she asks.
“Do you remember my friend Rio who you met the other night? He’s from Boston and told me about this spot.
It’s mostly Italian desserts, but they have some French options and traditional American pastries as well.
With my travel schedule, I know it’s hard for you to find time to get some work done, and these desserts aren’t as fancy as what you’d normally make, but I was thinking maybe you might get a little inspiration for those recipes.
Who knows, maybe something will spark an idea. ”
Miller stands still, not saying anything, which is strange. The girl is full of quick one-liners.
And my moment of confidence, thinking this was a good idea, has flown right out the window. “Or we don’t have to think about work at all and we could just get something that looks good to take back to the hotel.”
“No,” she quickly says, shaking her head. “No, this is... this is really thoughtful of you.” Her eyes flick to mine. “It sounds like the perfect idea. It also sounds a lot like a date.”