Chapter 5 Trapped
Trapped
Iappreciated having a job. I did.
I just didn’t appreciate it today.
And I wasn’t dealing well with the disappointment.
In my heart, I was back in grade school, the only girl in the third grade not invited to Liz Hanley’s sleepover party.
After a lunch rush that was better described as a lunch shuffle, the afternoon dragged by interminably. Saturday afternoon with the summer sun lighting up the sky in the middle of July? It was a day made for family barbecues and the beach.
That’s where I’d be, and it was where I had every intention of heading first thing tomorrow morning.
Fifteen minutes before my shift ended, Kian walked in and headed for his regular table.
“Hey,” I called out to him. “I’ll be there in just a moment.”
He nodded back at me, his polite veneer firmly back in place. “No rush.”
Internally, I sighed. Whatever progress I thought I’d made at The Beaver Dam the other night obviously hadn’t stuck.
I should back off.
Kian was a grown man and didn’t need a babysitter or a nursemaid.
And he didn’t want a friend, at least he didn’t see me as a potential friend.
Besides, my interest was not altogether altruistic. I couldn’t deny just how badly I wanted to decimate that polite facade.
I needed to leave him alone.
Decision made, I approached his table. Distracted by that mask I hated so much, I hadn’t realized he was missing his mini man.
I smiled at him then raised my eyebrows. “Where’s Isaiah? Did you find a program for him at the Rec Center?”
Kian’s pretty mouth twisted to the side for a moment before he smoothed his expression. “Uh, Aaron and Nadine took him to Gabe’s for his daughter’s birthday party.”
I nodded slowly.
It’s none of your business, Bridge.
I nodded again, then to no one’s great surprise, I asked, “Are you making any headway with Aaron?”
He shook his head shortly.
I glanced up at the time. “My shift is over.” I paused, chewing my lip.
His eyes flew to meet mine.
Was that disappointment?
“No problem,” he answered. “I won’t keep you. Should I go to another table?”
I studied the lines of his face. Yeah, definitely disappointment.
And a deep-seated sadness.
Too bad this super power I had for reading people malfunctioned so fucking badly with my ex-husband.
I took a breath and smiled at him. “I’m starving. Do you mind company?”
He offered me a crooked smile and teased, “I see what you’re doing, Bridge.
Don’t worry about me. I’m a big boy and I’ve been alone for a long time.
I’m perfectly fine eating by myself.” He chuckled.
“In fact, it might be nice to eat my food without having to field a million questions I don’t have the answers to. ”
I smiled. “Well, I promise not to talk too much if you promise not to steal any of my French fries.”
His mouth softened. “Deal.”
Smiling, I knocked on his table. “I’ll be right back.”
He chuckled, “I haven’t ordered yet.”
Over my shoulder, I called back, “I’ll surprise you!”
Did you ever fucking think to ask what I wanted?
My foot caught momentarily as I tripped over the voice from my past. Immediately pushing it away, I carried on.
But I took the doubt it awakened with me.
In the kitchen, I took twice as long as necessary deciding what to order. In the end, I went with my gut.
Grabbing a platter, I had the cook pile it up family style with mashed potatoes, baked chicken, green beans, and garlic bread. At the last minute, I added a side of fries. Throwing it onto a tray along with two plates, extra napkins and serving spoons, I made my way to our table.
“Whoa,” he exclaimed, his jaw dropping.
I watched him from the corner of my eye as I set it down.
Sliding into the booth facing him, I set the napkins between us and picked up his plate. I lifted the serving spoon and piled his plate high, afraid to look at him and find confirmation of just how far over the line I was leaping.
Sliding it in front of him, I hazarded a glance.
And I was trapped.
Hazel eyes, serious and intense, delved into mine.
Heat climbed like a clinging vine up my neck, every scrap of self-preservation I had left urging me to flee.
Frozen in place, half out of my seat, I stared back.
He dipped his dark head toward the food without breaking eye contact and ordered, “Fix your plate, Bridget.”
His low voice slid down my spine like a lover’s tongue.
My eyes nearly fluttered shut.
I shook myself free of the hold he had on me and picked up my plate, studiously ignoring the tremor in my hand and hoping he was doing the same as I served myself and set my plate down.
You’re so aggressive, so abrasive.
Was I too much? Too bossy? Too abrupt?
Probably.
But was it a bad thing?
A small voice inside me answered that question as well.
Probably.
I picked up my fork and scooped up buttery mashed potato goodness.
There was nothing I could do now but see it through.
Kian’s voice interrupted my mental flogging. “It’s kind of nice to not have to make all the decisions.”
My head snapped up, my wary eyes meeting his.
He continued, nodding. “Growing up, it was always Mom who decided what we were having for dinner. As a bachelor, things went downhill fast. Unless I went home, it was usually fast food or instant noodles. My wife was an excellent cook.” He tilted his head to the side.
“It wasn’t until I was faced with all the food planning and cooking that I realized how much I’d taken that for granted. ”
“So, you do cook?”
His mouth quirked. “I’m a terrible cook. And believe me, I’ve tried. Susie’s menu is much healthier than anything I’d put together on a weekly basis. But yes, I do cook.”
Lost in thought, he looked down at the table. “I come to Susie’s for more than that, though. Isaiah is accustomed to my brothers, my sisters, his cousins, and my parents clamouring around. It’s a tough adjustment for a kid to make.”
He shrugged and nodded toward me and the restaurant. “Coming in here, seeing you and Susie, it gives him a sense of community.” He rubbed his big hands over his face roughly. “I have to do a better job integrating him.”
“Maybe you have to integrate yourself a little bit,” I challenged.
His mouth quirked up as he protested, “Hey, I met you at The Beaver Dam.” He shook his head and huffed out a laugh. “And that was not easy.”
“She holds no ill will toward you,” I assured him softly.
“I know,” he responded. “But I hold enough for everybody. And seeing her makes it impossible to escape it.”
I leaned forward. “In fact, she told me she wants you to be happy and she hopes you stay. She wants Aaron to have a chance to know you.”
He looked away. “I’m not sure that’s ever going to happen.” Exhaling hard, he turned back to me. “But I’m not going anywhere.”
I sat back on my side of the booth and teased, “You know, you really should let me be your friend.”
His gaze sharpened on mine for a moment before his gaze skittered to the side. Looking back at me, he admitted, “Bridge, you’re a beautiful woman, quite possibly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. But I’m not in the market for any kind of relationship. Not even a casual arrangement.”
I smiled. “That’s good because I never date single dads.”
His eyebrows flew up in surprise. “Never? There’s a story there.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Yes, but it’s one I would only share with a friend,” I stressed.
He grinned and reached toward the basket with the last of the fries.
I slapped his hand. “Those are mine, big boy. Have some more mashed potatoes.”
He laughed, hard. “Did you just slap me?”
“Dad!” Isaiah bounded into the restaurant, Aaron and Nadine on his heels.
Nadine smiled widely when she saw me. Since the baby shower when we all slathered her in love, she’d blossomed.
“Looking good, mommy,” I exclaimed with a grin.
She rubbed her baby belly. “I ate too much cake and ice cream, but I have no regrets.”
“Hey, Aaron,” I glanced up at Aaron, the rest of my teasing words drying up in my throat.
He stood looking down at the remains of our shared dinner on the table, his eyes narrowing as he shoved his hands into his front pockets.
I stiffened as Isaiah haphazardly climbed up onto the seat beside me. “Careful, Ace,” I warned, grabbing him by the back of his t-shirt.
Ignoring me, he exclaimed, “I went to a birthday party. We had a big cake and lots of ice cream. Everybody gave Dylan presents, lots of presents.”
He turned to Kian who wore a pained look on his face. “Dad, can I have a birthday party next year?”
I put my arm around him. “When’s your birthday, Ace?”
He scrunched his eyebrows together. “When is my birthday, Dad?”
“June 17th,” Kian murmured.
“Oh,” I exclaimed. “You just had it a few weeks ago!”
“Yup!” He scrambled to his knees and leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “But I didn’t have a party this year. Instead, we played hooky, right Dad?”
Kian nodded tightly, a forced smile on his face.
Isaiah continued, twisting around to face me on his knees, “Next year, Dad says we’ll invite everybody to our house and have cake.” He rubbed his little hands together. “And presents.”
I looked up at Aaron and noted the guilty look on his face as Isaiah launched himself off the bench.
My lips pressed together tightly as Aaron met my eyes.
“Yes,” I replied to Isaiah as I held Aaron’s gaze. “Next year you’ll have a lovely party with all the people who love you.”
“Yup! Grandma says she’s coming next year no matter what Dad says.”
Aaron’s face paled.
Nadine swayed toward him, her delicately arched brows crashing together over her eyes as she looked up at Aaron.
“Okay, Isaiah, that’s enough,” Kian interjected quietly. “Why don’t you tell Bridge what you got for your birthday?”
Isaiah unleashed his finger guns and pointed at Aaron. “My brother from another mother bought me Nerf guns. We had a turf war on the beach!” He grinned, revealing his gap-toothed smile as he raised his arms in the air and did a little victory dance. “I’m the king of Sage Ridge.”
I did a second take. “You lost another tooth!” I exclaimed.
His eyes lit up. “The tooth fairy left me a dollar!”
“You’re so lucky!”
Aaron reached out a hand, tousled Isaiah’s hair, and said gruffly, “Later, buddy.”
“Later, brother,” Isaiah mimicked Aaron’s tone, then turned and planted his face in Nadine’s round tummy. “Bye, baby.”
Nadine laughed, her hand coming out to gently cup Isaiah’s tawny head.
Breaking away, he held out his fist to Aaron for a bump.
Aaron’s face creased into a smile exactly like Kian’s as his big fist met his little brother’s and theatrically exploded back.
Apparently, that wasn’t enough for Isaiah because he threw his arms around Aaron’s long legs. “I have the best brother and the best dad.”
Aaron scoffed out loud.
Nadine’s eyes widened as she looked from Aaron to Kian’s stricken face then looked away.
Kian’s chin dropped to his chest, his wide shoulders tense as boulders.
I hummed in my throat, unfairly furious with Aaron and frustrated beyond belief it wasn’t nearly my place to address it.
I knew what Wren had gone through, as well as the pressures Aaron had grown up with, but the blame did not belong to Kian alone.
Blaming him didn’t change anything.
It wasn’t right.
And it had the potential to blow back on the little guy wrapped around Aaron’s legs.
“I love you,” Isaiah whispered fiercely, his eyes closed.
Aaron’s chin dropped to his chest as his hands went to his hips.
Nadine shifted closer to his side, murmuring, “Aaron.”
Aaron’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as his chest expanded with his deep inhale. Bending down, he heaved Isaiah up into his arms and hugged him tight. “I’ll be at your party next year, buddy. I love you, too.”
A low, pained sound came from Kian’s locked throat.
Aaron’s eyes flew to his face. Whatever he saw there tightened the muscle in his jaw, and he set Isaiah down.
“See you later, buddy.” He turned without saying another word, taking Nadine’s hand firmly in his.
“Bye, Aaron,” I said quietly but firmly.
“Don’t,” Kian murmured across the table. “It’ll only do more harm.”
Without turning around, Aaron lifted his hand in a wave.
Nadine glanced back, an apologetic smile on her pretty face, and waved.
“You know what, Dad?” Isaiah commented, ambling over to stand beside his dad. He laid his hand on Kian’s muscled forearm. “I think you should hug Aaron. You don’t hug him like you hug me. Maybe he needs one.”
I jumped in to redirect a potentially disastrous conversation. “How do you feel about going to Krippy’s Chippy for lunch tomorrow?”
Isaiah cocked his head to the side and considered me. “Krippy’s Chippy?”
I let my jaw drop in mock shock as I touched my fingers to my chest. “Are you telling me you haven’t been to Krippy’s Chippy yet?”
“Is it helffy? Dad says we have to eat helffy.”
“It’s good for you soul,” I replied earnestly.
Isaiah tipped his head back, his little mouth pursing. “Can we go to the beach, too?”
“You’re in luck. Krippy’s Chippy is right on the beach.”
“Is that the French fry place, Dad?”
Kian nodded and smiled though his eyes remained vacant.
Isaiah shifted from one foot to the other, looking at his dad with a furrowed brow, then slanted a glance my way, his blue eyes huge in his small face. “Can we go to the park, too?”
I lifted my chin toward Kian. “Ask Daddy.”
I wrinkled my nose as I met Kian’s eyes, knowing full well I’d pushed him into an outing he probably didn’t want.
An ember of warmth returned to his eyes as he offered me a wry but grateful smile. “We’ll meet you down at the beach at ten. Isaiah and I will take you to Krippy’s Chippy for lunch. If we have time, we’ll go to the park as well.”
Isaiah shot his tiny fist in the air so hard he spun himself around.
Kian eased out of the booth, picked him up, and tossed him over his shoulder. Isaiah screamed with laughter as Kian carted him across the restaurant with a wave in my direction.
Planted in place, I watched them leave, that tall, strong man locking down his shattered heart to play with his small son.
Gary had put his own interests second to no one.
And there was no escape from his moods.
The stricken look on Kian’s face, that pained sound in his throat, the relief in his eyes when I saved him from Isaiah’s questions, and that small smile played on a loop in my brain.
Missing Dylan’s birthday party no longer seemed like the worst thing that could happen to a girl.
Because I was exactly where I needed to be.
I just had to remember, as nice as he was to look at, Kian wasn’t mine to hold.
Easy as apple pie.