Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
dexter
Three days.
It’s been three torturous days since Florence started working for me, three days of reminding myself she’s Patrick’s sister. Off-limits. I’m knee-deep in the trenches, fighting for my life with every floral summer dress, dazzling smile, and whiff of coconut.
I’m thirty-fucking-five, and in all my years, I’ve never been so aware of another human being.
On her first day, she wore a baby pink dress and a pair of worn yellow Chucks.
Day two, she brought in cinnamon rolls from Quinn’s bakery. The smear of cream cheese frosting on her lip called for an extended lunch break.
Today will either make or break me.
I’m not regretting my decision, just questioning why I thought working in such close proximity would be smart. It’s not temptation, more a constant reminder of the night we had together, the one I promised I’d forget for everyone’s sake. Easier said than done, apparently.
After finalizing some details and giving myself the weekend to mentally prepare, Florence officially became my employee early Monday morning.
She’s been glued to my side, shadowing me and getting a handle on her new role.
Yesterday, she spent the day in my office, sorting through the mountain of paperwork and berating me for my filing system.
Her mom drops her off each morning after she refused rides from me. No one in her family has questioned why I hired her. Why would they? They’re clueless. Patrick even thanked me.
Thanked me for defiling his sister.
Tall shadows drape the yard as the sun sets. I gave her the day off to get her things packed, ready to move into her new abode. I sit in the single Adirondack chair on my porch, jaw clenched, when Patrick’s truck comes into view.
Florence hops out, smiling widely and greeting the goats as they hop over to her. She spots me at the top of the stairs and straightens before waving.
Another summer dress. Another test of my willpower.
“Hey,” Patrick greets through the open window. “You want me to park it out back?”
I nod. “Yeah, that works.”
He disappears behind the cabin, leaving Florence and me alone.
“Howdy, neighbor.” She’s leaning sideways from the weight of her tote bag, and I jog down the steps, reaching for it.
“Let me take that,” I offer, and she hands it over without argument.
“I’m all for feminism, but that thing weighs a ton.”
“Jeez, you’re telling me. What’s in here?”
We slowly walk to the A-frame, the goats trotting behind us.
“It’s my bag of ‘Oh-shit-I-forgot-to-pack-these’.” She grins. “Basically, everything I own.”
Patrick is already carrying her stuff into the two story pine cabin. A large triangular window sits in the center, providing a perfect view of the forest from the bedroom.
It’s nothing special, but from Flo’s sparkling eyes, it’s everything.
“I can’t believe it’s mine.” Her voice is airy, floating with the gentle breeze. It’s not the first time she’s seen it, but I appreciate the excitement of having your own space for the first time.
There isn’t much to unload, and Florence instructs us to dump it in the living room and shoos us away to get changed.
Patrick and I stop beside his truck.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
I rear back at his abruptness. The front door’s open, so I guide him out of earshot.
“Why wouldn’t this be a good idea?” I ask.
He scrubs a hand down his face, sighing. “I love my sister, and she’s been busting her ass applying for jobs, but she’s not exactly qualified or experienced. Flo can be…unreliable sometimes, and you’ve a lot on your plate. I don’t want—”
“Pat, I’m gonna stop you there,” I interrupt.
It takes all my strength not to crack my knuckles in frustration.
“Who I hire is my decision. It’s better than some stranger sticking their nose in my business.
Florence is more than capable of helping me get my shit together.
Maybe all she needed was someone to take a chance on her. ”
I don’t mention that Florence is under the impression I hired her blind, something she’s not brought up again.
“Okay. Point taken. I hope it works out,” he surrenders. Opening the door to his truck, he pauses before climbing behind the wheel. “Do me a favor and watch out for her, though, will you? It’s great having her home, but something’s different. Put it down to brotherly intuition. You know how it is.”
“Do I?”
“Yeah, you’re like a big brother to her.”
My stomach rolls with nausea, vomit building in my throat. I steady myself on the truck door.
“Whoa, you okay? You’re white as a sheet.” He grips my shoulders. “Is it vertigo?”
“Just dizzy.” Not why he thinks. “It’ll pass.”
He eyes me skeptically. Pat might let me be a martyr when it comes to my health, but it doesn’t mean he likes it.
“Haven’t you got a child and pregnant fiancée to get home to?” I shove him. “Get out of here, Daddy.”
“You fucker.” He laughs. “Did Jo put you up to that?”
I tap my nose.
When all that’s left of his visit is a cloud of dust, my body sags. Big brother. Fuck my fucking life. If only he knew.
Sucking in a deep breath, I carefully ascend the stairs and knock on the open door of the A-frame, calling out. No answer. I crane my head, listening closely, and barely catch the sound of running water coming from down the hallway.
Leaving her to it, I go to leave, but my boot catches on the handle of her tote bag, sending the contents flying.
“Ah, fuck.” I bend to tidy the mess. The most random things lay scattered across the floor: a recipe for banana bread, a hammer, twenty pesos, a book about goats, three apples, and approximately six thousand bobby pins.
A piece of paper stands out the most.
To-Do List
1) Buy snacks for the boys
2) Find out how the lumberjack likes his coffee
3) Setup PA email
4) Review current reservation system
5) Don’t think about the lumberjack inappropriately
6) Try not to screw this up!
7) Organize calendar
A hand darts out, snatching the paper from me. A horrified Florence stares at me. “Please tell me you didn’t read that?”
“Okay, I didn’t.” She’s changed into a pair of overalls, hair tied with a large scrunchie to showcase her flushed cheeks. “Need a hand with anything?”
The paper crinkles against her chest. “Nope. Thanks for your help. It’s been a long day, and I’m pretty beat…”
Translation: she wants me to leave.
An odd sensation tugs at my chest as I retreat toward the door. “Of course. You know where I am if you need anything.”
I turn then pivot, pointing down the corridor. “The shower isn’t the best. There’s an outdoor one through the kitchen. Butt Head has a tendency to break in here, but he’s harmless. There’s also a wild turkey roaming around—not so harmless.”
She nods slowly, taking in all the information. “Shower. Goat. Turkey. Check. Anything else?”
My lips work before my brain can stop them, a habit that only happens when she’s near.
“Yeah, I take my coffee with a splash of milk, no sugar. See you in the morning, Trouble.”