Chapter 9
Ever
“Let me get this straight. You’re paying me to sit around and read?”
Ledger sets a blank notebook and pencil beside the stack of books on the end table beside the cushiest chair I’ve ever sat in in my life.
“No, I’m paying you to boost sales. You know those quippy little teaser tags bigger bookstores have started displaying beneath books to hook new readers?
Like the whole ‘He’s a ten, but was sent to kill you,’ and all that jazz.
I’ve even seen one along the lines of ‘pairs well with cookies and cream ice cream,’ because there’s a scene in the book where some dude jizzed in it or something? ”
Does he have a book on how to be irresistible to women or something?
He already ticks off all the boxes, yet he’s going for the gold and discussing books about horny serial killers for extra credit. If he doesn’t already teach a class for single guys on how to get women, he should. We need more men like Ledger in the world.
But I can’t go there. If being my neighbor wasn’t bad enough, Ledger’s my boss now.
I already made that mistake with Adam, and I’m not about to put myself in that position again.
This job is too good to be true, and no one that looks like Ledger is hard up for company.
I’d be setting myself up for a repeat performance of heartache, but this time, I wouldn’t be able to leave.
Even if I quit, I’d still have to see him at home.
So nope, no matter how much I’m attracted to Ledger, it's official.
He’s off limits.
Getting my head back in the game, I awkwardly clear my throat. “Got it. Just those, or would you also want some trope lists to make a blind date with a book table?”
That damn dimple makes an appearance, Ledger smiling like nothing would make him happier than paying me to sit around his shop and read.
“That sounds perfect. Any other ideas you think of, feel free to write down. Make a list of whatever supplies you need for these displays while you’re at it, and I’ll pick everything up as soon as you’re ready. ”
“You sure you don’t want me dusting or something instead?”
“Nah, Bret might actually shank me if you encroached on his territory. Guy’s a neat freak and has gradually taken over cleaning the place and abandoned the job I actually hired him for.
” Those hazel eyes sparkle with amusement as he rolls them.
“If whoever’s running the register needs a break, you could tap in though? ”
“Sure, no problem.”
“Perfect, I’ll leave you to it then. Shout if you need anything.” Shamelessly, I watch him walk away, because I’m no saint. Ledger may be off limits, but I’m only human, and certainly appreciate the view.
“Alright, Ev, head in the game,” I murmur, picking up a book at random from the pile beside me. “Can’t blow the easiest job ever on your first day.”
Time flies by with me occasionally checking in with the guy running the register, but he waves me off and promises to come get me if he needs a break.
But with him able to read between customers too, he doesn’t look to be in much of a hurry to take me up on it.
Ledger does the heavy lifting; bringing boxes out from the back for another employee to stock the shelves, checking in with the man running the coffee counter, and making sure everything runs smoothly.
He’s one of the most hands-on bosses I’ve witnessed, and it makes me feel guilty as hell to be sitting around on my ass getting paid to read and pull teaser hooks.
Not guilty enough to give up such a sweet gig though.
I take another sip of my coffee, pausing when it’s hotter than it should be.
And more full. I’ve been sipping it for hours, it should’ve been long gone by now.
Testing out a theory, I down the rest of it, setting my empty cup back on the table and snuggling deeper in my chair, watching out of the corner of my eye instead of reading.
Low and behold, five minutes later Ledger walks by, swapping out my coffee for a full one on his way to check in with the register.
An hour later he makes his rounds again, replacing my drink with a fresh one without making a big deal about it.
My stomach flips, and I’m starting to regret drinking so much coffee on an empty stomach.
Nobody has ever paid that much close attention to me, not even my ex, and I lived with the asshole.
If I was at a bar, I’d worry about him discreetly swapping my drinks to roofie me or something, but I can’t imagine he’d be stupid enough to do something like that in the middle of his store when there are several witnesses if he did something creepy.
And I just don’t get that vibe from Ledger.
Sure, he could break someone’s spine like a toothpick without breaking a sweat, but I’m pretty sure he’d only do it to protect someone, not actively seek out a fight.
But I’ve misjudged people before.
I scowl as my phone vibrates again, refusing to check it until I’m on break.
I’d turn it off completely, but after sifting through the onslaught of messages the other day, I found a couple from Arson in the mix, asking how I was settling in and if I’d mowed down any other poor unsuspecting victims yet.
Now, texting him has become one of the highlights of my day, but no matter how many numbers I block, Adam finds someone else’s phone to borrow, so it’s always a gamble when I pull out my phone if it’s going to annoy me or not.
“That’s it, this weekend I’m changing my number,” I grumble, pointedly ignoring it as I get back to work.
After Ledger’s done his rounds, he grabs a thick binder and settles into a nearby chair, working on paperwork here instead of retreating to his office.
Maybe he’s got control issues? Doesn’t trust his employees to run things?
That theory is shattered half an hour later as he says, “Kai, keep an eye on the place for me, will ya? Ever and I are going to take our lunch break.”
“You got it, bossman,” he calls without looking up from restocking a tray of cookies in the case at the coffee counter.
The lights dim substantially as Ledger approaches my ‘workstation’, and he looks up at the ceiling with a frown. “I’ll check those out as soon as we get back. Come on, I’ll drive.”
I get to my feet, stretching out my stiff muscles. “You’re my boss, Ledger. Bosses don’t take their employees out for lunch dates.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Good thing I’m not your boss when you’re off the clock, then.”
I open my mouth to protest, but my stomach chooses that moment to let out an embarrassingly loud growl. I don’t really know where anything is around town yet. Getting lost and coming back late from break on my first day wouldn’t bode well for keeping my job…
“Fine, but it’s not a date.”
His hand settles on the small of my back as he guides me out of the bookstore and toward his truck. “Call it whatever you like, sunshine, so long as you eat something.”
I roll my eyes, but fight back a smile. “My treat then since I already owe you for all your help.”
His knuckles turn white as he opens my door, hazel eyes boring into mine.
“You don’t owe me anything, Ever. You could ask me for a ride to work every day, and I’d do so happily without ever expecting anything in return.
Hell, you could never give me the time of day again, and your job would still be here waiting for you.
So don’t get in this truck if you’re only doing it because you’re afraid of upsetting me. ”
Tilting my chin up with his knuckle, he growls, “But make no mistake. Even if you told me to fuck off and walked away right now, I’d still make sure you got something to eat and home safe.
” Stepping back to give me breathing room, he holds my gaze.
“So tell me, Ever. Would you like to join me for lunch, or would you prefer I have something delivered? My treat.”
My heart is hammering away so loudly, I’m sure he can hear it.
I just… don’t get it. How is this man still single?
There has to be a massive red flag I’m missing.
What do you bet he owes the mob half a million dollars, or has twenty-seven children out there somewhere? Or worse, collects clown paintings.
I don’t care how big the man’s dick is or if he’s sculpted like a god. He could strip down naked and do the Macarena, and I wouldn’t notice with all those creepy clown smiles daring me to look away and give them a chance to crawl out of the paintings to murder me.
Why do I do this to myself? That visual will live rent free in my head for the rest of my life, now.
The feeling of being watched settles across my skin, and I take an unconscious step closer to Ledger, cementing my decision. “Lunch date it is.”
“How’s your burger?” he asks, watching me tear into my food like a starving animal without flinching away in disgust. Frowning slightly, he adds half of his fries onto my plate. “Have you made it to the store yet, or are you living off of those awful frozen dinners that came with the house?”
“Delicious, thanks,” I mumble around a mouthful of food, pointedly ignoring the second part of his question. He already thinks I’m a hot mess, no need to admit he’s right.
A small part of me might be embarrassed remembering this moment when I’m alone later, but putting some distance between us is necessary before I make a mistake I’ll definitely regret.
If I were a better person, I’d admit to myself that I’m trying to chase him away before he can get close enough to hurt me and leave like everyone else in my life.
Good thing I’m out here rawdogging life and can suppress those feelings into an ulcer instead.
“So, what brings you to Mercy Ridge?” he asks, popping a fry in his mouth.