16. Caleb
Caleb
The air had a crisp bite to it as I pulled up to the school, early signs of fall creeping into town.
I had to take Noelle shopping for warmer clothes.
My mother offered to take her, but I tried to prioritize these moments with my child.
Even if that meant shopping—it was a form of bonding at her age.
My truck engine rumbled loudly as I threw it into park, my gaze frantically scanning the pickup line. Guilt tightened its grip on my chest as I saw only a few kids left lingering by the curb with a teacher beside them.
Noelle stood there, chatting with her friend. I couldn’t remember the kid’s name for the life of me. The second Noelle saw me, she waved and jogged over. Her backpack was as big as she was.
“You’re late, Dad,” she announced, crossing her arms.
I checked the clock on the dash. “Ten minutes.”
She arched an eyebrow, her expression eerily similar to my mother’s when she was unimpressed. “Still late.”
“You’re relentless, kid.”
She grinned, climbing up into the truck like she owned the thing.
The second her seat belt clicked, she launched into her daily rundown—who did what, why math sucked, how long it took for her braids to fall out, and why the school lunch wasn’t as good as a packed one.
I listened, adding in my occasional faux outrage when necessary, grinning when she paused for dramatic effect.
We rolled through town, passing The Grand with its overflowing flower boxes that Fiona insisted she would “get to.” I couldn’t help but think of Grace and how she agreed to help me at the bar tonight.
Grace hadn’t had a traditional job before.
She was accustomed to a certain lifestyle, and while I couldn’t imagine her working at my bar, I appreciated the help.
I also didn’t mind the idea that maybe by doing more in town, she might want to stay, to become used to this type of lifestyle.
I looked over at my daughter and realized I really needed to introduce the both of them soon.
One of my main holdups was that I was worried about Noelle and what she would think about me seeing somebody.
Grace had become an important piece of my life, and it felt unfair to keep my kid in the dark about it.
Not to mention, the town loved to gossip, and it was only a matter of time before she found out.
Before I could come up with some sort of plan, Noelle broke me out of my thoughts.
“Can we get ice cream?” she asked as we hit a stop sign. “You were late and it’s probably the last chance of the season before it’s too cold.”
I smirked, glancing over at her. “You don’t let anything go, do you?”
She beamed. “Nope.”
I sighed, flicking on my turn signal. “Fine, but only a small cup. Last thing you need is a sugar rush.”
She gasped. “That’s so unfair.”
I chuckled and pulled into the shop’s parking lot. She had me wrapped around her finger and we both knew it.
By the time I got to Bar, I was already behind schedule.
My regulars were lingering outside, waiting for me to reopen after my hour break to pick up Noelle from school.
Nicky was having a lot of personal issues and was out of town indefinitely.
He had always been there for Bar and me.
I couldn’t fault him for having an emergency.
Max, on the other hand, had been nothing but a headache. Don’t get me wrong, he was a good kid, but he also was trouble. I gave him grace so many times, but when he disrespected Nicky, his superior, there was no excuse for it.
But the debacle left me short-staffed and scrambling.
On top of everything else, tonight was shaping up to be one of busiest nights in months.
We had the teachers coming in for a back-to-school night gathering.
Ms. Kenzie was holding interviews for another baker.
Not to mention, the community college had a three-day weekend.
By the time Grace got to the bar, the place was buzzing.
“I’m so sorry!” she panted, her cheeks flushed from rushing.
I walked around the bar and gave her a hug before rubbing my hands up and down her arms to calm her.
“No worries. I figured you got caught up or changed your mind. Maybe hanging with your other guy,” I teased.
Grace caressed my cheek and whispered, “There’s nobody but you.”
I looked into her eyes and saw the truth.
I couldn’t resist crashing my lips to hers, not giving a shit who saw.
For a moment, she struggled to keep up but soon got into a rhythm.
Once we broke apart, there were catcalls.
I did a once-over of the bar and only saw a few regulars, one of whom was Dirty Al. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
I led us over to the bar where I grabbed an apron then walked behind Grace. “I was worried you were scared off by a little hard work. You know, if I could eat those freaking snails, you can work a shift,” I joked, tying the apron around her waist.
I showed her a few things on the cash register, but then I noticed her gaze lingering on my mouth. A blush cast over her gorgeous face.
“Grace, are you listening?” I asked, amused.
“Yes, I’m listening!” she lied, crossing her arms like a petulant child. Honestly, she resembled Noelle this afternoon when I was ten minutes late.
“Then what did I just say?” I challenged, mirroring her pose.
She bit her lip, and I chuckled and brushed the hair off her shoulder playfully.
“Come on. Let me show you the stockroom.” I called over my shoulder, “Al, keep an eye on things.” He muttered his agreeance as I walked ahead of her and held the door open.
Before entering, she asked, “Are you sure?”
I gave her a confused look and proceeded to nod once. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Grace shrugged. “I’ve heard this is where the magic happens.” She burst into laughter, after struggling to keep a straight face.
I slapped her ass and warned, “Watch it, you!”
At first, I thought she’d crumble under the pressure, but to my surprise, she held her own. Even Dirty Al, who barely acknowledged newcomers, was watching her like she was some kind of exotic creature who’d wandered into my bar.
“She single?” Dirty Al asked, half-joking. His voice was rough from years of whiskey and cigarettes.
I scowled, setting his beer down harder than necessary. “Al, you’re sixty-five.”
He grinned. “Just means I ain’t dead yet.”
I shook my head and moved on to another patron, but my gaze kept catching Grace.
She was moving through the crowd, her sleeves rolled up, a notepad in one hand and a tray in the other. She was a little too graceful for the job, trying to be overly polished, like she wasn’t used to the weight of the tray and drinks. But Grace’s face was all determination.
I watched as she leaned in to hear what a group of teachers said over the noise, flashing that perfect, practiced smile; one I was certain had gotten her out of trouble more times than she could count.
I was impressed she barely spilled anything. Okay, maybe a little tequila, but I pretended not to see it.
She even managed to make small talk with me, opening up about boarding school drama and her “friend” Cordelia, even sharing some stories from her modeling days.
I appreciated her becoming more comfortable with me. I knew she had suffered some trauma to make her so scared. I hoped being dependable and consistent would show her it was safe to open up further.
Jena had just walked into the bar, and once she settled into her usual spot, she called out to Grace. “Hey, you! He’s got you working now too?” She turned her attention to me, waving her finger at me. “Have I not taught you anything about how to get the girl?” she scolded.
Grace snickered before coming to my defense. “I volunteered,” she said proudly.
Jena seemed taken aback by that revelation, her face showing mild shock at the fact that Grace willingly signed up for this. I couldn’t blame her—she’d surprised me by her offer, but God was I grateful.
“I think I’ll stick around for a while,” Grace assured.
I looked to Grace who teasingly stuck her tongue out at me. I had to hold back from throwing her on the counter, saying fuck it to my rules, and taking her on the bar.
By the time the crowd winded down, Grace looked ready to collapse. She dropped onto a barstool with a dramatic sigh, tilting her head back.
“My feet are killing me.”
I smirked, setting a glass of water in front of her. “Tough night?”
She groaned. “How do you do this every day?”
I shrugged, leaning on the counter. “This old man is used to it.”
She took a long sip of water and studied me over the rim of her glass. “You know, I think I actually liked it.”
I arched my brow. “Liar.”
She laughed, setting the glass down. “No, seriously. It was kinda fun. Maybe I just like being with you.”
Something in my chest tightened at her words and it stirred a feeling I wasn’t quite ready to admit yet.
Grace had surprised me tonight—hell, she’d stunned me the way she jumped in to help me with no complaints.
Her polished rich-girl exterior was cracking enough for me to see she was somebody who loved to help.
The air between us shifted, heavy with something unspoken. Her gaze dipped to my mouth as our final customer said good night and exited Bar.
I stomped to the door and locked it. Once I made my way back to where she was seated, I proceeded to stand between her legs. She leaned in slightly, her eyes locked on mine.
“You survived,” I teased gently, nodding toward the hallway that led to my office. “Come on, I owe you a drink.”
She nodded, a playful glint in her eyes. “So … what else do bartenders do when the night is coming to a close?”
I smirked, tossing the rag in my hands on the counter. “Depends on the company.”
Grace tilted her head. “And if the company is me?”
I reached for her hand, my fingers brushing hers and lingering just enough to make her breath hitch. “Guess you’ll have to stick around and find out.”
A sexy smile spread across her lips. “Maybe I will.”
I walked her into my office, kicking the door shut behind us. The room was quiet, a stark contrast from the night we left behind. She leaned against my desk casually, watching my every move as I reached for a bottle of whiskey and poured two fingers in a single glass.
“Are you going to share?” she asked, her voice low and teasing.
“Trust me,” I murmured, stepping closer, “it tastes better this way.”
She watched me, her lips slightly parted as I closed the space between us.
My eyes went to her mouth, and as I held the glass to her lips, our eyes locked.
Neither one of us was willing to break first. She sipped slowly, almost sensually, watching me the whole time as her plump lips puckered from the sharp taste.
I followed her lead, tasting the whiskey, most importantly tasting her, my want for her growing with every minute.
“Caleb—” she whispered, taking the glass from my hand and placing it behind her on the desk.
I gripped her waist, pulling her flush against me as her hands tangled in my shirt, pulling me closer. The room around us faded. The only thing I could feel was the heat of her body against mine, the way she melted into me.
She gasped as I nudged her back, pinning her against the desk chair, one of my hands sliding up her thigh. She was soaked through her black leggings.
“God, I want you,” I breathed out, needing her to understand how much I desired her.
“Me too. So much.”
The words barely left her mouth before I closed the distance, taking her chin between my fingers and tilting her face up. I kissed her, slow at first, testing, teasing, until she made a soft, desperate sound.
“You sure you can handle this job?” I murmured against her lips.
When she pulled away, she smirked, breathless, her nails raking down my back, clawing at my shirt. “Guess you’ll have to keep me around, boss.”
I attempted to kneel, but her hands gripped my shoulders as she shook her head. I looked at her questioningly.
“Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about this yet.” She slid her hand down between my thighs, rubbing my cock with her palm.
“Thought about what?” I ground out, trying to not come in my pants.
She looked up at me through her long eyelashes before she knelt before me.
“Me. On my knees for you,” Grace whispered. “I want to make you feel good. You do everything for everyone else. Let me do this for you.”
Holy fuck!
“Grace,” I moaned as she pulled my jeans and boxers down impatiently. “I want your mouth on me.”
Playfully, she kissed the tip of my cock before she reached up to give me a few tugs, her smooth palms sliding along my length before she opened her lips and took me into her mouth.
I groaned at the sensation, and a smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth before she dropped her head down to take the full length of my cock between her plump lips.
The tip grazed the back of her throat, and instead of gagging, the movement only caused her to moan and take me impossibly deeper as I felt the muscles in her throat relax.
“Fuck.” I fisted her golden locks to hold her head steady while I tried to maintain my composure and not come too soon.
When my ragged breathing had slowed, I began to rock my hips, fucking her face while she slid her tongue along the length of me.
She never fully withdrew, her lips and tongue and hot mouth always touching me in some way, and it was constantly keeping me on edge.
I couldn’t get enough of this woman, on her knees, doing everything in her power to make me feel good, to feel appreciated.
Grace looked up at me, moisture clinging to her lashes as her eyes watered.
Her lipstick had smudged onto my cock, leaving a bright red ring, almost like a brand.
Her hair was tousled from where I’d gripped it in my fist. But she’d never looked more beautiful.
I couldn’t even contemplate her words. She was right. I did try to put everyone else’s needs before my own. But this, being with Grace, was heavenly.
I felt my orgasm building, my legs starting to grow weak. I cradled her head in my hands, stroking my thumb across her bottom lip to warn her. “I’m going to?—”
She moaned and took me deeper into her hot, wet mouth, swallowing around me and ignoring my warning. She continued to bob her head, using her fist on the upstroke to bring me closer and closer to the edge.
“Fuck, Grace.”
I lost control with one final thrust and came in deep spurts down her throat. My body came to a halt, my legs on the verge of giving out. I would have questioned if I had died if it weren’t for the throbbing in the cords of my neck.
Letting go of Grace and her blonde hair, I helped her stand. “You’re amazing, Grace.”
“You’re only saying that because I gave you a blow job.”
I slid one hand up her thigh. The higher my hand went, the wetter I discovered she was.
“Well, it seems like I should repay the favor.”