Chapter 15 Stand My Ground
STAND MY GROUND
“The girl you were sending googly eyes to the other night was in here for lunch.”
Chance turned from where he was grabbing some food before he got behind the bar.
He didn’t need to start his shift until five, but got here at four.
He woke up at two, showered, had a cup of coffee and some toast, did laundry and other chores that he’d gotten behind on having spent time with Jocelyn over the weekend.
No way he’d trade that to wash his underwear.
“What girl is that?”
“The one you went to school with,” his grandmother said. “She picked up lunch a few weeks ago, then came back and sat at the bar that one night. This time came in with her mother.”
“How do you know it was her mother?”
“Because I heard them talking. Something about men in her life.”
He frowned. “Did you hear what was said?”
“Nope. I wasn’t listening that carefully. Didn’t know if she was seeing someone or not and was just coming here to hang out. Or maybe it’s you she wants to see and hopes to have in her life. Though she’s not the type I’ve seen you with before.”
“So you’ve said,” he said.
He threw a burger on the grill away from where his chef was cooking, then dumped some fries in the basket to set into the hot oil.
“What’s going on with her?”
He could lie to his grandmother, but he never did if he could avoid it.
“I’m not sure. We went on a few dates this weekend.”
“My grandson doesn’t date. He doesn’t do fancy dinners or movies, not even concerts.”
“We didn’t do any of those things,” he said. “She cooked me dinner on Saturday and on Sunday we went for a ride, then had pizza and beer and arcade games.”
“Well, I’ll be damned. Pegged that one wrong.”
“Yes, you did,” he said. He flipped his burger, then checked on his fries, shook them and set them back down.
“Tell me about her,” his grandmother said.
His chef was laughing at him. “Not here. Don’t you have to man the front?”
“I’m taking my dinner break.”
“You better be leaving at five,” he said.
“I’ll leave when I want to leave,” his grandmother said and walked away from him.
Like most of their conversations.
Him being put in his place.
He finished cooking dinner, then went to the office to eat knowing his grandmother would be waiting.
“What do you want to know?”
“Her name and what she does?”
“Jocelyn McCarthy. She works for the family business running the finance office. McCarthy Construction.”
“I know who they are. Got some money there then.”
“That’s right,” he said, biting into his burger. “Seems like she might be interested in lowering herself to the likes of me.”
His grandmother grabbed a ruler off the desk and rapped him on the knuckles. He yelped over the quick sting. “Serves you right for bringing yourself down like that. Cut the shit, Chance.”
“I was joking,” he said.
“You tell yourself you were, but I’m not so sure of it.”
Neither was he. At least he was trying not to have it lingering in the back of his head.
“She’s not like what I thought she was,” he said. “There, feel better?”
“Slightly. Tell me how she is.”
“I don’t know.” This was more painful than a slap on the knuckles. “I don’t like talking about this shit. She’s nice. She doesn’t judge. She talked to me in school when many others didn’t. I told you that.”
“So she’s not afraid to be her own person,” his grandmother said, nodding her head.
“Definitely not that,” he said.
“You need someone like that in your life. Someone to give you crap.”
“She will, but I’m not sure what is going on. A few dates, that’s it. I haven’t talked to her since Sunday.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “She hasn’t reached out.”
“And you can’t reach out to her? You’re so used to women making all the moves.”
“That’s not true.”
Jocelyn was the one who came here on Friday night.
Shit.
But he texted her to tell her his schedule and planned the first date the next day.
“Then text her you know she was here today. Tell her I saw her. She was looking at me as if she was waiting for me to say something. It’s what got me thinking something more was going on. That she knew who I was.”
“She knows,” he said.
Jocelyn knew a lot more than most women did he’d spent time with.
“Do you think her mother does?”
“No clue. It hasn’t come up. She’s not the type to tell her parents everything she does. I’d be surprised if they knew she went on two dates. I’m sure it was nothing more than a coincidence they came to lunch here.”
“So she could see you. See, making that first move, you idiot.”
“Grandma.”
“Don’t give me that tone. I’m right and you hate to admit it.”
“You’re right. I hate to admit it.”
His grandmother laughed. “You can finish your dinner in peace. I’ll leave around five.”
“Good,” he said.
“And you can text Jocelyn now before you get behind the bar. Or better yet, call her.”
“Not happening,” he said. He wasn’t one for talking on the phone.
But the minute his grandmother left, he pulled his phone out trying to phrase a message.
How was your lunch today?
That seemed benign enough.
He went back to eating his dinner, not expecting her to reply that quickly.
Wrong again.
How did you know I was there? she typed.
My grandmother recognized you.
There were bubbles on the screen, then they stopped. Some more popped up again. Stopped a second time.
Good, now she knew how he felt.
His phone rang on the desk, and it was Jocelyn.
He reached over and shut the door with his arm, then answered.
“Can’t figure out what to type?”
“Nothing came to me that would be short enough. Your grandmother knows who I am?”
“She does now,” he said. “She’s got a steely eye and always has. Nothing gets by her.”
“Okay, fill me in. What exactly is it she knows about me or us?”
“She remembered you from the Friday night not that long ago. Was picking on me for flirting with you.”
“That was mutual flirting.”
“It was,” he said, picking up a fry and munching on it.
“What are you doing right now?”
“Eating dinner in my office before I get behind the bar. You?”
“Working on projections. I’d rather be eating with you than doing this.”
“I don’t blame you. I’d rather you were eating with me too.”
“Guess we’ll have to try that another night.”
“You could come here for dinner tonight and keep me company. It won’t be that busy.”
“I had lunch there,” she said. “I can’t go back twice in one day. Good lord, my jeans won’t fit.”
“Your jeans fit just fine.”
“Only just fine?” she almost purred into the phone.
Fuck. Were they going to do that while he was at work?
“You’re right. They aren’t fine. Not even just fine. I think you’re better with them off. Just standing there in a tiny thong, your ass cheeks waiting for the slap of my hands to yank you closer to me.”
He heard the gulp on the other end. “I’m throwing the flag in now. You win. I’m not good at that.”
“I think you’re great at it, but you don’t want to do it at work. I’m doing it at work.”
Might as well taunt her the way she’d been taunting him.
More like haunting him and his thoughts.
He heard a noise over the phone, and then a door shut.
“Okay. Now I’m getting down to business. Boxers or briefs? I need to know that first.”
“Boxer briefs,” he said, grinning.
“Even better. I’m standing there in front of you, sans the jeans, but no thong. Sorry. Not my thing. I’ve got on a pair of boy shorts, my ass cheeks hanging out the bottom.”
He groaned. “Much better.”
“I know what I like. I’m pressed against your hips, you in your boxer briefs. You’re excited to have me there.”
“I’ve got wood. Say it.”
“Nope. Not my word either. You’re hard and you’re hot. I can feel it between the thin material we’ve got that both of us want to get rid of fast.”
Son of a bitch. She was winning.
His dick twitched. “You’re on target.”
“Good. Now the rest is to be continued.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“I don’t joke about boy shorts and hard cocks.”
He coughed on the French fry in his mouth.
Oh, shit.
Not what he expected her to say. Now his dick was ready to stand at attention to hear more.
“Jocelyn?”
“Yes, Chance?”
“You might have to run fast when you see me again.”
“If you haven’t figured it out by now, Chance. I stand my ground.”
Jesus.
“And when will you be standing your ground?”
“I might have to keep you in suspense,” she said. “You’re the one with the busy schedule.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be sorry. We can work around it.”
“You want to?”
“Do you think I just normally throw out words like that with any guy?” she asked.
“Do you?”
“Would you be stunned to know you’re the first?”
He smiled. “Yes.”
“I hear the pride and rising ego in your voice.”
“Pretty obvious. The question is if you’re only doing it because I started it and you have to win or not?”
There was a pause. “I think it’s both. You started and I wasn’t backing down. I like to win. But there was another part to it.”
“What’s that?”
“That I can be myself around you and not worry I’ll be judged or looked down on over it. Not made to feel embarrassed.”
“No one should make you feel like shit for being attracted to them.”
“I always thought that too. It’s nice to be with someone who agrees. Have a good rest of your shift, Chance.”
He went to talk, but she hung up on him.
Had to get that last word in.
He started to text and then sent her a laughing emoji instead.
When a peach came back on his screen he tossed his phone on the desk.
He needed to cool down, not get heated back up.
He could see she was going to be a handful and found he was looking forward to it.