CHAPTER 6
Palmer
“Holy shit, I can’t believe I did that!” I laugh, my hair whipping around my face as I finish rolling the window up.
Bailey laughs along with me, his gaze bouncing between me and the road. “Yeah, you fucking did. I’m impressed! Also, I will make sure to never piss you off.”
“You can piss me off. Just don’t fuck your soon-to-be stepsister on my couch and then send me to her house to drop off the stuff you intentionally left at mine.” I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Otherwise, you should be good.”
Bailey’s eyes widen, and his mouth forms a wide O. “Wait. That chick”—he hikes his thumb over his shoulder, the pieces all coming together—“is the one he cheated on you with? With the purple hair?”
I nod. “Most recently, yes. Or at least the one I most recently caught him with.”
“Should’ve let me beat the shit out of him.”
“I considered it. But I didn’t want you to get in trouble on account of me.
Plus, I know there’s certain rules with the whole uniform thing.
Like, Chase can’t kiss Lindy when they’re out and about and he’s in uniform, so I kind of figured that getting into a fistfight with someone while wearing it is probably frowned upon. ”
He doesn’t change his tone as he says, “It wasn’t going to be a fistfight.”
“Oh, it wasn’t, huh?” I retort, giving him an incredulous look. “What was it going to be? A nice, calm conversation?”
Bailey tilts his head toward me, his face stoic. “Neither. Both a conversation and fight require both parties to be equal participants. He wasn’t going to get the chance.”
“To fight?”
“To participate. It would’ve been over before he tried.”
I’m not real sure what he means by that. It sounds like a threat, so I decide not to acknowledge it.
I also decide not to acknowledge the heat pooling low in my stomach. Nope, not going to happen.
Is him being super protective of me super fucking sexy?
Yeah, obviously. Any woman would feel that way.
But Bailey is friends with Chase, and Chase is a good guy, which means that Bailey is a good guy.
He just did it because he’s a good guy. Not because he wants to fuck me.
I haven’t been around a good guy in a long time. It’s normal that I find it attractive.
The fact that I want to lean over the console and unzip his jeans to show him just how attractive I find it is neither here nor there.
I clear my throat in an effort to remove from my mind the thought of one of his hands tangled in the back of my hair while the other rests on the steering wheel.
My eyes are glued to his hand. He flexes his fingers, adjusting his grip, causing the veins on the back of his hand to swell, and I nearly come unglued.
“Um…” I croak, then clear my throat again. Get it together, bitch. “Thank you again, Bailey. I really couldn’t have done this without you.”
Bailey glances at me and flashes a small smile. “Anytime. I’m happy to help.”
Right. Because that’s what this is for him: a rescue mission. Nothing else, regardless of how turned on his hands make me.
Come on, Palmer.
“Let me take you to lunch,” I offer. “It’s the least I can do. I owe you.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t owe me anything, Palmer.”
The way he says my name slides over me silkily. It makes it awfully difficult to not imagine him moaning it into my ear, his teeth sinking into my neck and—
No. Stop it. You are not a horny animal with no self-control.
“Please, Bailey. You made something I was dreading into what I would say is, shockingly, not the worst experience of my life. Let me treat you to lunch. There’s this old diner a couple of miles away that makes the best burger and fries.
” I’m not sure what prompts it, but I clasp my hands together in front of my chest and stick out my lower lip. “Please? Don’t make me beg.”
He looks over at me, and I swear his already dark eyes are almost black. Resituating, Bailey swaps his hands on the steering wheel so that he’s leaning toward the driver’s side door, then says gruffly, “Just tell me where to go.”
* * *
Despite my insistence on paying and a physical skirmish for the check when the waitress laid it down, Bailey paid for lunch. I’m not surprised; I had just kind of hoped he would let me treat him.
“You can pay next time,” he had said with a wink as he slipped his card to the waitress.
While I know that simply isn’t true because I can’t imagine a world where he would actually let me pay, the thought of getting to spend more time together stops me from arguing.
In the two hours since we sat down at Lori’s Burger Joint, I have learned that Bailey has two sisters and was raised by a single mom.
His dad left before he was born, and his mom is the only parent he’s ever known, but what family he does have is super close.
I learned that he grew up in Texas, but he hates saying y’all because it makes him feel like he’s gagging.
He’s been in the Army for ten years, most of which have been spent out of the country, although he doesn’t disclose where.
“All over the place” was the response I got when I asked, and “a little bit of everything” was what he said when I asked what he did in the Army.
When I asked him about what he planned on doing when he got out of the Army, he simply shrugged and took a sip of his coffee before saying, “I’m not sure.
Maybe do some homesteading or something like that. ”
I’ve learned he hasn’t been in a serious relationship because his job won’t allow for it. Even if he wanted to be in one, he’s gone so frequently it wouldn’t be fair to his partner.
“I just don’t feel like I can ask someone to do that,” he said. “Asking them to be here waiting for me when neither of us knows exactly when I’ll be back isn’t fair. So, I just don’t do relationships. It’s better that way.”
For some reason, that knowledge hollowed out a pit in my stomach, but I ignored it. That wasn’t my problem.
I also learned that he’s a good listener, and his unwavering eye contact was enough to make me blush and look away from him more than once.
At one point during my rant about the school doing away with the funding for our Special Olympics cheer team last minute, I wondered if he was doing it on purpose or if he was just good with maintaining eye contact.
Even though I tried to make it look natural, like reaching for my drink, every time I looked back up, his gaze was trained on me, a smirk resting on his lips.
Something about his expression tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing to me…
which is exactly why he’s been doing it.
At first, I’m not sure if he’s just trying to fuck with me; living through five years of psychological warfare will do that to a person.
But the longer we sit there, the more I’m convinced he actually gives a shit about what I have to say, even if he’s flirting with me as I say it.
But even that realization doesn’t do much to quell the wary feeling plaguing my mind.
Bailey had lots of questions about me and my job.
What’s your family like? How long have you been in the area?
What made you want to teach middle school?
What is teaching special education like?
Is it hard? What’s your favorite color? What’s your favorite place you’ve ever traveled.
Where do you still want to travel? Tell me all about you. What makes you tick?
When I ignore the fact that I want him to bend me over his truck seat and take me here in the diner parking lot, I can recognize that we get along really well, and he’s a lot of fun to talk to. We could definitely be friends, even if just around Chase and Lindy.
Unfortunately, I’m not exactly the best at tuning my body out, especially when I’m convinced he would be able to get me off quicker than I could do it myself, so rather than ignore that fact, I file away the mental image of his head between my thighs for future purposes.
Bailey leans back and lays his arm across the back on the booth, watching me intently. “So, Special Olympics, huh? What’s that like?”
“Honestly, it’s one of my absolute favorite things in the whole world.
” A wide smile crosses my face. “I used to volunteer at the events when I was in high school then I fell in love with it. That’s part of the reason I decided to become a special education teacher.
Then I learned there was a cheer event through Special Olympics, and I was hooked. ”
“You were a cheerleader?”
I laugh. “Believe it or not, no, I was not. I was actually in the marching band. But my sister and best friend, Ronnie, cheered all through high school, and they were on a competitive cheer team together for, gosh, as long as I can remember. Ronnie even had a scholarship to cheer in college, but” —I take a long drink from my pop— “Things change. So now I coach the cheer team. They work so hard and getting to see all their hard work pay off at their competitions is one of the best feelings.”
His easy smile matches mine. “That’s really cool. So, the funding you were talking about. Is it an expensive sport for people to get into?”
“No, not really.” I deliberate for a moment then continue.
“Realistically, there are grants and things that allow it to be free for the athletes to participate. It’s just…
I probably go a little overboard, and that can be a little expensive.
” A blush creeps up my neck, and I look down to study the table.
Clay always hated when I talked about money, especially if it was money I didn’t have.
“How so?”
My eyes widen; I’m surprised Bailey wants to hear more.
I lift my gaze and explain, “Well, when we would go to the cheer competitions, they all had to have fancy matching uniforms, big bows, and even bigger hair. Part of what made those competitions so fun was all the time we spent getting ready together. I mean, I wasn’t getting ready, but sitting with Ronnie, my sister, and the rest of the team while they did made me feel like an honorary teammate.
” A car driving by catches my attention through the window, and I watch until it disappears.
“Those are some my favorite memories. So that’s why it gets so expensive.
I want them to have the same kind of memories we all got to have, which means buying the uniforms and the bows and whatever else they need,” I finish quietly.
When I turn back toward Bailey, he’s studying me with a soft smile on his face.
I shake my head and change the subject. “Sorry. It’s just one of those things that I get excited about, but not everyone wants to hear about it. Did you play any sports in school?”
“Hey,” Bailey says, drawing my gaze up to meet his. “Never feel like you have to apologize for talking about something you love.”
* * *
“Thank you again for lunch, even though I told you it was my treat.” I step on the running board and slide into the passenger seat.
Bailey grabs the door, wearing the same knowing smirk he’s had on his face since he first caught me blushing. “My pleasure,” he croons, then shuts the door behind me.
As we pull onto the road, Bailey asks, “So, what now?”
The question catches me off guard. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re free.” Bailey gestures in front of him. “No dumbass to clean up after or cook for. Your last weekday of vacation, right? Spring break?”
I nod when he glances my direction.
“So, what I mean is what is next for your newfound freedom?”
I pause before I respond, unsure how to answer his question. “Honestly? I’m not sure.”
“Oh, come on. That’s a cop out,” he challenges. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t? Because guess what? You can do whatever you want now.”
“Well, not whatever I want,” I argue.
“You know what I mean. Within reason.” We pull up to the stoplight, and he turns to look at me. “There’s got to be something.” He clasps his hands in front of him and forms his lips into a pout, mimicking my earlier pose. “Don’t make me beg.”
The pose makes me giggle, and I throw my hands up in defeat.
“Seriously! I have no idea. Clay always controlled everything, and a lot of the things we had to do were because of him. Like one time, I wanted to get a pet and train it to be, like, a therapy animal for my students, but he threw a massive fit. Something about his allergies or something, so we never did.” Shaking my head, I say, “I haven’t really done something just for me in a long time, so at this point, I wouldn’t even know where to start. ”
The light turns green and the truck surges forward. Bailey is quiet for a moment before he speaks up. “You should do it.”
“Do what?”
“Get a pet,” Bailey says as if it’s the most common-sense thing in the world. “He can’t tell you no now.”
I open my mouth to give him a reason why I can’t, but I can’t come up with one.
I don’t have time—my schedule suddenly just opened up a whole lot.
I don’t have space—my house has opened up, too.
But the mess—: can’t be much messier than what I cleaned up last night, and at least the mess a pet would make wouldn’t be vindictive.
They’re expensive—doesn’t have to be.
Those are all Clay’s excuses, not mine. He doesn’t get a say anymore. Bailey is right.
The decision didn’t need to be made; I just had to do it. “You know what, you’re right. I’m going to go get a dog.”
“Yeah!” Bailey reaches over to offer me a high-five. “Let’s do it!”
“Just one thing.” I interrupt his celebration. “I haven’t ever gotten a dog as an adult, and I don’t think I actually know how to do it.”
Bailey laughs good-naturedly. “That’s okay, Palmer. You’ll figure it out.”
I smile at him sweetly, my mind made up. “Oh, I know I will. Because you’re coming to the humane society with me.”
He salutes, his face all business but his eyes dancing. “At your service. Just tell me where to turn.”