The Fix (The Carolina Connections, #1)(31)
She looked up at me and said, “I accept your apology, but next time, please try not to use so many curse words.” She gave me a side hug and I kissed the top of her head, relieved to be forgiven. “This is hard on all of us—so many changes to consider,” my mom said.
“Yeah, the changes are definitely throwing me. You know I’m all in with the company, right?”
“Of course. And you know we appreciate it so much, Nate.”
In for a penny, in for a pound. “It’s just that, ideally speaking, I would really love it if Dad comes back to take over the administration side of things and I can take over the other side. But I understand if it can’t happen. I just want you to know I’m there for you either way, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss using my hands on the job.”
She set the t-shirt she was holding on the pile. “Nathan, you and your father are different men. That’s no secret to any of us. He’s spent his career working out how to fit the figurative square peg in the round hole while you’ve spent yours literally fitting the peg to the hole. You don’t need to become your father in some effort to rescue everyone. That can only end with you being unhappy and probably resenting us. And that is the last thing I want for any of us.” She put her hand to my cheek. “We’ll work it out. And I’ll bet if you open your eyes and start looking around you’ll see there are a lot of people who work with you and your father who’d be willing to step up a bit.”
Well shit, why hadn’t I thought of that? Why had I automatically assumed the bulk of the responsibility?
“So” she smiled at me and picked the shirt back up. “What time can I expect you all on Sunday?”
Aaand checkmate goes to my mother.
I’d decided on Granny’s since I secretly loved jimmies—or “sprinkles” to the uneducated. The front door opened before I even had the chance to climb the first step, and Rocco burst onto the porch. “Is there chocolate?”
Ah, a man after my own heart. “Of course,” I told him as if only a complete idiot would arrive without a chocolate doughnut. He snatched the box and ran inside.
“Rocco! Manners!” Laney appeared in the doorway.
“Oh yeah, thanks, Nate!” came the quickly receding voice muffled by what I assumed was a chocolate doughnut.
I paid zero attention to Rocco at that point, however. Laney stood before me in what I can only describe as the outfit that would have caused teenage Nate to sequester himself in his room for two straight weeks. The white tank top was thin, the pink lace bra playing peek-a-boo in several places, and her currently tightened nipples were straining the fabric. The tank was snug at her waist as well, and her hips flared out in a denim skirt which stopped mid-thigh. How I was going to get through this morning without putting my mouth on several parts of her body I had no idea. Did she wear this fuck-hot outfit for me? She must have, right? I was going with yes and pushing my luck as soon as the opportunity presented itself. With Rocco around, though, it was going to be a long morning working around the giant boner in my pants. How did this woman make me revert to a seventeen-year-old with one look and a tank top?
I stepped through the doorway and made sure to skim my hand over her waist and kiss her cheek. She smelled like coconut and a hint of flowers. Her sharp inhale did not go unnoticed. This was happening.
I spent the morning mildly flirting with Laney and placing casual touches on her arms and back as often as possible. Rocco resumed his position as my helper but lost interest a bit more quickly this time. When Gavin returned home from the gym and offered to take Rocco for pizza, the kid dashed out the door without a backward glance. Perfect. Alone time with Laney.
However, my normally confident air around women was a bit more elusive today, and I realized the reason with a mix of dread and uncertainty. My insensitivity with my mother yesterday had me consumed with guilt, and I knew I’d have to bite the bullet and embarrass the shit out of myself with Laney. I was going to ask a girl to meet my parents when she hadn’t even agreed to go out on a date with me. Was there any way I could come across as more douchey or creepy than that?
Before I could stress any more about it, though, Laney walked into the bedroom with a basket of laundry and dumped it on her bed. “Can you tell me what the point is of folding laundry?” she asked.
“Um, I guess so you can find it later?” I didn’t know how to answer. My wardrobe consisted solely of jeans, cargo pants, and crappy t-shirts, none of which required much care.
“I guess so.” She sighed and sounded so disappointed I didn’t understand how laundry could be such a downer.
“Is laundry really that depressing?” I asked as I finished gluing a floorboard in place.
She seemed to shake herself out of whatever mood had overtaken her and emitted a small laugh. “No, I guess I got stuck in my head for a minute there.” She shook her head again and smiled at me. “So, what’s it like working as my indentured servant on your days off?” she asked.
“Well, I’ll tell you, working inside like this has its advantages. It’s air-conditioned for one, and I don’t have to hear passersby saying stupid things like, ‘Hey, when you’re finished there, why don’t you come over to my house and fix a few things?!’” I mimicked an idiotic hillbilly tone complete with a fake-ass chuckle.