5. Ginger
5
GINGER
I t’s after five, and my mind is still spinning with more and more ideas. I’ve accumulated a binder and started a spreadsheet on my computer. My office sits upstairs on the left. The master bedroom is set up like a showroom, but my space is on the opposite side, with a window that looks over the front lawn.
It means I can watch the comings and goings, and I have a general idea of what’s going on with the construction outside.
Most people have left for lunch, and Jackson brought me some barbeque chicken from Ruby’s Pork and Dreams, the local joint with the best smoked meat and hickory beans. He must have gotten asked my dad what to order for me.
He ate at my desk with me, silently surveying the spread of papers from the notes and preliminary phone calls I had made.
Prices and availability. That’s always my starting point. After that, I can put together the bigger picture.
I’m just finishing putting the last of my findings into a spreadsheet when Brenda knocks.
“I’m locking up. Time to get home.” She taps her wrist, even though there’s no watch there. Her silver brow rides high toward her quaffed and curled silver hair. “I’ve got dinner waiting for me. Let’s go.”
“I’m coming. I’m coming. Although I’ll likely have to make dinner when I get home.” I save my notes and shut my computer down, gathering my things and following Brenda down the stairs.
The other ladies have gone home. There are samples, binders, and paperwork scattered over all of their desks. They seem to have fun with each other.
Overall, my first impression is good. I even like the people I’ll be working with.
I’m hoping Gracie ate with Mom, so I can shower and jump into some baking. I have a few Christmas-themed treat ideas I want to test out.
Brenda waits for me to get in my car and lock it, before she drives away. I take the easy way home. By the time I make it home, I’m ready to dig my hands into something that I can complete in a few hours.
It only takes Dad a few minutes to show up at my door with my daughter in tow.
Gracie hops into the kitchen with her backpack and a huge smile. “How was your day, Momma?”
“So good, pumpkin. How was yours?”
She drops her backpack at the kitchen table. “Awesome. We got to use the pastels again in art. Grandpa got an extra scoop of ice cream with dinner. And you got the job!”
“How did you know I got the job?” I finish, setting up the ingredients for sticky toffee pudding—a recipe that could be made new with a few small tweaks—and bend to sweep Gracie into my arms, even though she’s already way too big for this.
“Because you had a good day.”
I set her back on her feet. “Such a smart cookie. You want to help me make a new treat?”
“Experiment?”
“Of course.”
“ Yes .” Gracie bounces again.
“Go wash up, and you can start measuring.” Once she runs off to the bathroom to clean up, I step forward and hug my dad. His big arms surround me with warmth. “Thanks for feeding her dinner. Which I assume came before the double scoop of ice cream.”
“Of course.” Dad’s chuckle gives him away, and he plants a kiss on the top of my head.
“Was she good?”
“She was. Got her homework done with your mom, drew you a picture, but I think that’s a surprise, so forget I mentioned it.” Dad releases me and settles by the counter to watch me pull measuring cups and spoons from my baking drawer. “How was your first day?”
I look up at him, smirking. “Good. Everyone was very welcoming and nice. I have so many ideas for the project they gave me. You know how I get.”
“I do.” The way my dad looks at me, I’ve never wondered once if he loves me. It’s so obvious. I’m lucky to have him.
“And what did you talk to Jackson about when you called?”
Dad straightens. “Just told him to take care of you.”
“And the threats?” I ask, knowing Dad never just tells someone something like that without a promise to follow through with real action if things don’t go to plan.
“No threats. Wasn’t any need for them.”
I laugh. “I’ll believe that when Bessie flies.”
Dad joins my laughter, and my baby pops up behind the counter next to me, ready to bake.
Gracie claps. “Okay, I’m ready!”
Dad leaves halfway through the process, and Gracie abandons me before the treats are in the oven, falling asleep on the couch. It’s been the perfect day.
When I finally get myself to bed, I find myself thinking about Jackson, Sawyer, and Ashley. Flirting with all the men at work was fun, but the three of them…I was worse today than I usually am.
And those three are so different. I like that because they obviously work well together. Their differences make me like them all the more. Teasing and flirty, silent and brooding, and someone who likes to battle with his wits.
I’m looking forward to going to work in the morning and feeding them something I’ve made.
My dreams are filled with scenes of them finding reasons to crowd me, catch me alone, touch me, and kiss me. Those dreams follow me through the morning and my usual routine and onto the job site.
I’m carrying the Tupperware box full of treats, and Jackson beams at me, holding the door so I don’t struggle. “What’s all this?”
“An experiment. For the carnival. Want to try one?” I saunter past him and to the kitchen, where I set down the box and peel back the lid’s corner. The smell of butter and sugar wafts up to meet me, and I sigh.
Jackson groans. “Yes, I want to try one.”
I plate one for him and the girls, waiting for his first bite. The moan low in his throat causes a wave of lust to course through me. Would he moan like that with his mouth on me?
Shaking the thought away as I meet Jackson’s gaze, I silently ask his opinion.
“Are you kidding me? What is this? It’s so fucking good.” He pops the second half in his mouth and licks his fingers clean. The sight of his tongue should not send me back down a very deep rabbit hole of dirty thoughts.
But here we are. If I don’t corral myself soon, my panties are going to be ruined before the day truly starts.
I smile at him. “Thanks. It’s sticky toffee pudding.”
“You’re thinking of having this at the carnival?”
I nod. “Free for the kids, but another fundraising opportunity for the guests.”
“Genius.”
“I know.” I take the plate to the girls in the office and leave one on Brenda’s desk before I nudge Jackson in the ribs as he chews through his second helping. “Those aren’t all for you, you know. You have to share.”
I snatch up the Tupperware and saunter my way outside to the two build sites. The moment I lift off the top, I’m swarmed. A chorus of moans sound in my wake as I make sure everyone gets to try one. I get six marriage offers before I make it inside to Ashley.
He bites into it, maintaining eye contact, and all of his teasing evaporates. “Fuck. Be my wife.”
I laugh and slap him in the chest—a move that’s become our primary way of communicating. “You’ll have to wait in line. I’ve already gotten six other offers in the last ten minutes.”
His hand finds my elbow, keeping me close. Keeping me touching him. The look he gives me has my pulse picking up speed. If no one else were here, if he weren’t one of my bosses, I’d pull him down into a kiss. I’d give him another reason to propose.
I lay a sweet smile on him. “If there are any left, I’ll be sure to save another for you.”
Winking at Ashley, I slip away. I make my way upstairs, finding Sawyer in the master bedroom. He’s already nailing shelves up in the closet, and it looks nearly finished.
I wave at him, and he puts his nail gun down and steps forward, saying my name in his low voice.
“Hey, brought you a treat.” I lift the lid again, but he pauses. “You don’t like sweets?”
He nods his head. “I do.”
Then, he reaches in to take one, and I wait. I have to see his reaction. I want him to love them.
After a few beats of silence, he takes his first bite. His eyes widen, and he pauses to look at the treat again. I can’t suppress my proud smile.
“It’s good,” he says after he swallows. “Thank you.”
I laugh, head falling back with delight. He’s so understated, which makes me want to prod at him. The bewilderment in his features almost has me cackling. “You’re welcome, Shakespeare.”
Spinning on my toes, I leave him to it, tossing a glance over my shoulder at him on my way out. I’ve left him frozen in place, watching me. Today’s slacks leave little to the imagination, and I like how my ass gains his attention before he can correct himself.
He shoves the other bite of food into his mouth before he disappears from my sight.
I make a second round to be sure everyone’s gotten a treat, and stash the leftovers in the mini fridge in my office. Four left. We’ll see who comes first to claim them.
Sinking into my work is easy, and when I ask Jackson for some butcher paper or poster board, he happily obliges me with a ream of plotter paper.
“What are you up to?” He follows me upstairs, stopping in the doorway to my office before laughing. “Look at all of this. You’re much farther along than I imagined you would be.”
“Oh, this barely scratches the surface. Ideas are messy when they’re new. I’ll wrangle this all into a plan before you know it.” I take the roll of paper from him and start tacking it up on the wall.
Jackson helps, arms framing me to hold the edge up as I push in the tacks. He surrounds me with his body, lingering a few extra seconds. Tension swells between us, and I turn between his arms, mouth pursing to avoid a smile.
He drops his hands but doesn’t back away. “You’re a little efficiency elf, aren’t you?”
I raise my brow at him. “Elf?”
“Yeah. Gonna start calling you that.” Jackson rubs his chin as I frown at him. “Oh, did I mentionthat you’re going to be the elf at the carnival? You’re the only one who will fit into the outfit.”