Chapter 9
NOLAN
9
“Wanna watch a movie?”
Inez glances up from where she’s leaned against the counter, drinking a glass of water, attention concentrated on her phone. She gives me a blank look. “Huh?”
Standing here in the entryway to my kitchen, I think I finally understand what it’s like to be the high school geek, asking my crush to the homecoming dance. Except I’m a twenty-seven year old single father, inviting my stunning houseguest to hang out with me on her night off from work.
Anyway, Inez had dinner with Stella and me earlier—pigs in a blanket with curly fries and broccoli. Don’t judge me. Then I went off to tuck my daughter into bed. Now I’m back in the kitchen and I see that Inez has tidied up the dishes. That leaves the whole night ahead of us.
I clear my throat, wondering why the hell I feel as nervous as I do. “I just figured…Stella’s already in bed. And it’s only eight-thirty. And I just…” I shake my head, feeling stupid for thinking she’d want to spend her free time with me. “Never mind.” I start to walk away.
But Inez is tucking her phone into her back pocket and a beaming smile is unfolding across her face. “Are you kidding me? I’d love to watch a movie. I noticed your collection in the living room. You’ve got some good stuff, Boss Man.”
Without hesitation, she eagerly leads the way down the hallway, tiptoeing past Stella’s closed bedroom door. I grin to myself, shuffling along behind her.
Together, we kneel on the shag carpet in front of the wall unit where all the DVDs and VHS cassettes are stored. Inez is like a kid in a candy shop as we whisper back and forth, thumbing through all our entertainment options for the night.
Finally, she selects an old Jim Carrey movie I haven’t watched in years. “I used to loved this movie as a kid,” she tells me, beaming. “I used to watch it all the time with this foster family I stayed with for a while. It really was one of my favorites.”
“Let’s do it, then.” I pop the cassette into the player and I watch her face light up with excitement as she settles on the couch with the remote.
I feel a twinge in my chest at the idea of her bouncing around from place to place in her childhood. How can she be such a ray of positivity after all the crap she’s been through?
“Everything okay?” she asks when our eyes catch.
I shake out of my thoughts. “Snacks?” I ask in a low voice, jutting my chin toward the kitchen.
“Hell yeah,” she whispers back as the opening trailers begin to play.
Then I’m fighting against a smile as I hustle around the kitchen, throwing some popcorn in the microwave while I put together a high-fructose feast. Stella’s strawberry punch juice boxes, creamy pudding cups and some candy I’ve had stashed away at the back of the pantry since I confiscated it from my sugar-happy daughter last Halloween.
Soon, we’re crammed on the couch, sitting way too close to each other, knees touching, sharing junk food and stifling our laughter with the TV volume on low.
A feeling of carefree nostalgia hovers in the room as Jim Carrey runs around, engaging in ridiculous antics that would normally only get a chuckle or two out of me. But with Inez sitting here beside me, snort-giggling and dropping popcorn into her cleavage, I honestly can’t remember the last time I laughed this much. She is so caught up in the movie and her reactions are adorable.
I swear I don’t know how it happens but my arm ends up draped along the back of the couch. Inez doesn’t pull away from my touch. Instead, when she runs out of popcorn, she inches closer to me, stealing buttery kernels out of my own bag.
I totally crossed the line earlier today, flirting with her and making inappropriate innuendo. I just liked seeing the surprise in her wide eyes and the pink flush on her cheeks when I made those immature jokes. Her expression was cute. And I liked the thrill that rushed through me as I made her blush.
But it was all just for fun. Harmless, right? I’d never actually act on any of that.
Yet before long, I’ve forgotten all about the movie. I’m staring at her, unable to believe that she’s here with me. This time last week, I was sitting on this couch all alone and she was on that television screen and I thought I’d lost her forever. Now she’s at my side and I just want to pull her closer to me.
I make note of the way she arches her foot, wiggling her toes around like she’s in pain. I’m willing to bet that her feet ache from walking all over town in those impractical high heels I saw kicked off by the front door today. I won’t say I told you so because I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate my gloating.
She catches me staring as she shoves sour gummies into her face. She titters self-consciously. “Gosh. I’m being a pig.” Then she shrugs. “But it’s not every day I eat trash like this.” She lazily swirls her tongue around the tip of her sugar-covered finger. My eyes follow the movement. My cock tingles.
I shrug, scarfing down a handful of licorice pieces. “It’s not every day that I get to bundle up on my couch and watch an old movie with the most beautiful woman in America.”
Inez pauses, looking surprised by my flirtation. Then a big, goofy grin explodes across her face. She tries to bite it down. “So I guess we’re even, then.”
I grin back. “I guess so.”
That goofy smile lingers on her face as she steals my packet of licorice and returns her gaze to the TV screen.
Fuck—when Inez left town, never in a million years did I imagine that she’d end up in my living room, bantering with me on a Tuesday night, watching a 1990s comedy classic.
But I love it here.
With Inez here beside me now, I’ve never been more grateful for a night off. I never know what to expect on my nights away from the bar. I still don't fully trust some of the new staff. If it weren't for my daughter, I’d probably be there working until close every night. Stella helps me set boundaries. Tonight as I sit here with Inez, I’m just really, really glad to be at home.
I force my eyes back to the movie. I’m struggling so hard. Struggling not to trace my fingers over the curve of her shoulder. Struggling not to pull her into my lap.
And I can’t shut up the part of my brain that’s wondering how soft her lips must be. Wondering what flavor of candy they’d taste like right now. Wondering if she’d kiss me back if I leaned in and touched my lips to hers.
But then I recall the way she always turned away from Vance every time he’d get too close to her. Would she react the same with me? Or would she pull me closer? Would she like it?
Of course she wouldn’t like it. I’m not the type of guy Inez would go for.
I really need to stop listening to my siblings and their theories. They’re getting into my head and turning me into a creep.
When the movie is over and the end credits start running, Inez turns my way, offering a twinkly-eyed grin. “I haven’t laughed like that in forever.”
“Yeah. I needed that,” I say in agreement.
She smiles at me. I smile at her.
In fact, I can’t stop smiling.
“I fucking missed you so much.” Whoa. That came out of nowhere. I didn’t mean to just blurt it out. And by the surprised look on Inez’s face, I can tell she wasn’t expecting it either.
Instantly, the atmosphere in the room changes, the air growing heavy and serious.
Her crystal blue eyes bounce around my face. “Well, maybe don’t take me for granted so much this time.” A shadow of resentment slides across her features. A moment later, it’s replaced with a blindingly pretty, blindingly fake smile.
But my brain is stuck here, trying to process her snarky comeback. She’s right though. I did take her for granted in the past. Now I see that I was so wrong for that.
Blushing, she quickly glances away, toward the wall unit. “I really can’t believe you own a functioning VCR.” She laughs quietly as she scoots backward, putting space between us. “You really have a thing for ‘antiques’, don’t you?” She reaches down and rubs the sole of her left foot as her eyes make a slow sweep of my living room.
I scoff. “Antiques? I don’t know a thing about antiques.”
“Could have fooled me.” Again, she looks around at our surroundings. I look around too and I totally understand where she’d get that impression. The plastic-covered, floral-patterned loveseat. The cedar cabinet with delicate vintage dishware displayed inside. The framed landscape art. The antique piano. The heavy drapes hanging from the double-hung windows.
I rake my fingers through my hair. “I haven’t had much time to dedicate to decorating over the past six years. Been busy running a bar and raising a kid, if you haven’t noticed,” I say gruffly.
Inez reaches down and rubs her foot again. “Give me a break,” she says, not believing one word I just said. She turns so she’s facing me. “Tell me why you really haven’t updated your house.”
“I don’t have the time,” I repeat, sounding grumpy even to my own ears.
“Don’t lie to me,” she tosses back, smirking. Like she thinks she knows me.
Here’s the thing—she does.
With a huff, I grab her left foot and pull it into my lap. “Because I worry about money. Okay? I said it. Are you happy now?”
When I press my thumbs into her sole, Inez grips the couch cushion and hums with pleasure. “Nolan, you run the most popular bar in this town. I’ve seen the books. You’re not hurting for money.”
“I know that,” I grind out.
She quietly studies my face, making me feel put on the spot. I don’t fucking like this.
“It’s just…I’m focused on saving for my daughter. Her activities and most importantly, her education.” I sigh. “It’s just me. Me and Stella against the world. So her whole future is riding on me making good decisions. I’m dead set on giving her the best of everything, and everything doesn’t come cheap.”
No one would ever guess it by looking at my crappy kitchen or my rust bucket of a car, but I’ve already managed to scrape up fifty-six grand in my savings. Still, I know that’s not enough.
Inez is looking at me with softness in her eyes. “You’re an amazing dad, do you know that? Stella is so lucky to have you.”
The way she says it, I know she’s thinking back to her own childhood. To how she didn’t always have someone there for her. “I just feel like I should be giving her more. More attention. More love. More time. More of me.”
I’ve never admitted this to anyone. It’s hard to talk about the anxiety of knowing that my daughter’s whole future depends on me and me alone.
Inez responds with one simple question. “And who’s making sure you have your needs taken care of?”
I’m sure she means it in an innocent way. Still the question ignites a rush of warmth below the belt. “What needs exactly are you referring to, Machado?” I apply increased pressure to the bottom of her foot.
She has pretty feet. So pretty I’m tempted to kiss them all over. Is every inch of this woman pretty?
Her back arches the slightest bit and her lips fall open with a soft groan. Shit. She likes that. Her eyes grow hooded and a wicked, little smile sprouts up on her plush, pink lips. “Don’t be a perv, Brighton.”
I grin, too, releasing her left foot and turning my attention to the right foot, rubbing gently. I veer the conversation back into non-sexual territory. “Okay, evil woman, you just made me dig up my deepest fucking secret and lay it out on a platter for you. Now give me yours.”
“Fair.” She swallows nervously. “What do you want to know?”
“Tell me why you didn’t marry Vance. Tell me the truth.”
Inez’s expression changes completely, all playfulness falling away. It’s like I just took her back to a place she’d rather forget entirely.
She plops onto her back, stretching out against the cushions and staring blankly at the ceiling. “I didn’t really have a reason. At least, not a reason that would make sense to anyone but me. It was just this feeling I had about him. I can’t explain it.”
“A feeling that he was a fake bullshit artist?” I say a little too harshly. I can’t help it. Just the thought of that dude makes me so fucking mad.
“Y-yeah…Something was just off with him.” She abruptly rises into a sitting position and I watch one strap of her tank top slip down her dainty arm. “And the most confusing part is, he was technically everything I wanted in a man. Handsome, successful, confident.”
“The guy is corny as hell. Those terrible lines he’d say to you made me want to block my ears with hot wax.”
She chuckles lightly. “His lines were supposed to be romantic.” Her laughter fades away. “Seriously, though. I’ve always wanted a guy who is super expressive with the way he feels about me. I missed out on hearing ‘I love you’ growing up and I always wanted a man who’d tell me exactly how crazy he is about me. But even though Vance would say all the perfect, swoony things, it felt…wrong.”
“Because you knew that he was acting. He was putting on a show for the cameras. I don’t understand how everyone was falling for it. Thank god you could see that that Vance dude didn’t have a sincere bone in his body.”
“Right.” She frowns at me. “All I know is, every time I’d look at him, I’d just see red flags everywhere.”
Now, I’m wondering what she sees when she looks at me. Am I a red flag? Or is there any chance I’m someone she could see herself with?
She drops her head and shakes it. “From the very beginning, I had a weird feeling about Vance. But I think the point of no return was a few nights before the wedding when I walked in on him at the hotel bar, having a conversation with his talent agent.”
I feel my eyebrow rise slightly. “His talent agent?”
Inez nods. “The two of them had their heads together, basically debating over whether or not getting married to me would help him land better movie roles. He was trying to convince her that marrying me would be good for business somehow. Something about fan perception. Miss Talent Agent Lady didn’t seem to be buying it, though. She seemed to think that staying single would be better for his career.”
The more Inez talks the tighter my chest gets. Especially when I see that conflicted look on her face.
“When I announced my presence in the room, Vance tried to smooth everything over and convince me that I’d understood the conversation all wrong. He claimed that he loved me and that America would love me, too. He said he just knew that everyone in the whole world would fall for me the way he had. But ever since that night, I could never shake the feeling that he was into me for all the wrong reasons. And to this day, I’m still wondering if I overreacted about the whole thing, if I let my insecurities talk me out of the best thing that will ever come my way.”
She looks to me, confused and unsure, like she hopes I’ll have the answers that she doesn’t.
I hear myself speak in a low rumble. “You know what I think? I think that when your gut tells you to run, you need to run. You don’t need another reason why. Following your intuition is a good enough reason, and anyone who doesn’t agree can go fuck themselves.”
She scoffs. “Foul mouth.”
“Oh excuse me!” I hold up a hand in surrender. “Let me rephrase—the haters can go make sweet passionate love to their middle finger for endless hours. Is that any better?”
Inez laughs softly and lightly punches me on the upper arm. “You’re a mess.”
“But I’m right.”
Her head bobs slightly. “But you’re right.”
My eyes lock on hers for a scorching moment, before falling to her lips. What flavor…? Licorice or sour gummies…? I wonder silently.
I’m an idiot for thinking I can solve all her problems with a kiss. But suddenly, kissing her is all I want to do.
I feel myself scooting across the couch, closing the gap between us. I’m ridiculously hard and I know these khaki shorts I’m wearing aren’t doing a great job of hiding my erection. She glances at my lap and when she gets a preview of what I’m working with, she’s scooting closer, too.
Fuck, yeah. She wants this.
My arm that’s draped around the back of the couch closes in around her shoulder. I trace my fingertips along her goosebump-covered arm. Her eyes lock on mine and her breathing grows quick and shallow as she waits for my mouth to meet hers. My eyelids fall shut and I’m ready to just fucking go for it.
But then I nearly jump out of my skin when a door bangs open somewhere in the blackness of the house.
“Daddy!” Tiny footsteps race through the dark hallway. “Dad!”
In an instant, I’m on my feet.
A tearful Stella stumbles into the living room with her favorite one-eyed rag doll, tangling herself up around my legs. “Daddy, I had a nightmare…” she wails, clinging onto me.
My head is spinning from the whiplash, but I keep my voice calm and reassuring. “You’re okay, Princess.” I sweep my little girl off her feet and she buries her sweaty head in my neck.
Clutching her to my chest, I soothe and comfort her as she struggles to get her words out, explaining her dream to me.
I glance at Inez as she straightens herself on the couch, adjusting her clothes and staring up at me with guilty eyes.
“I need to take care of her,” I say, stroking my hand up and down my daughter’s shaking back.
Inez nods vigorously. Again and again and again. “Of course…Go. Take care of her.”
Carrying my child to her bedroom, I lay her down in her tiny princess bed. We talk through her nightmare. Then I sing her that Beatles song she likes so much. I assure her that she’s fine, that everything’s okay, that I’ll stay with her until she falls asleep again.
And I keep my word. I don’t stop stroking her back until she’s safely returned to dreamland.
Then I tiptoe back through the house, anxious to see where things stand with Inez and me. Will she still want me? Or is the moment over? Has she snapped back to her senses by now?
When I step into the living room, Inez is gone.
The cushions have been rearranged. The leftover snacks have been cleaned up. The television has been turned off. And Inez is nowhere in sight.
That’s all the answer I need.
A red flag. That’s what she sees when she looks at me. And she’s right.
With all the baggage I’m carrying, I can’t help but agree.