So Much More (Made for Love #3) (8 page)

Kill me now.

“My team is great, but I really need some full-time help. Is that something that you’d consider?”

“Mmhmm,” I hum with a nod. “Full-time is perfect.”

“You’d essentially be training to be my assistant manager. The pay isn’t exceptional. You won’t be making six figures or anything,” he jokes.

“Not a problem,” I say with a little laugh. “Teacher, remember?”

“Right,” he replies with a grin. “So, tell me a little bit about this barista experience.”

As I list off the tasks and responsibilities I fulfilled while working over the summer, he hangs onto my words like they’re the most interesting things he’s heard all day. I can tell that he’s trying to be thorough and I appreciate that about him. When I’m finished, he fills me in on how much of what I already know would be helpful in the open position. He then proceeds to list off the additional duties that he’d need help with.

Before he can finish, we’re interrupted as Daphne rests a hand on my shoulder. “I know you two are busy with formalities,” she begins to say, winking at Brandon, “but I’ve got an aunt and uncle here who were hoping to get a peek at their goddaughter. Oh, and Logan wanted to check in with you, too, Stuey.”

What she’s said only makes a little bit of sense. As I stand, fully understanding that I’m about to see Roman, I can’t understand how Caroline has an
aunt
. I’m also a bit confused as to how Logan plays into all of this. I remember Logan like I remember getting gum stuck in my hair when I was eight years old. She was friends with Beckham, which is how my group got to know her—but Beckham was the only one of us who actually
liked
her. The rest of us could barely tolerate her. We called her the
Queen Bee
. She was the biggest flirt I’d ever met in my life; she was also the biggest snot.

Having admitted that, I feel like no one can blame me for losing my footing when I turn and see Roman and Logan—
holding hands
—as they make their way towards us.

I gasp, whether from fear of dropping the precious bundle in my arms or from the shock of seeing Roman with Logan—
Holy shit! Are they
married?!—I’m not sure. As I clutch Caroline tightly against my chest, someone catches me, steading me with a strong, gentle grip.

Brandon.

Shit! Don’t think about him touching you.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, as if he doesn’t wish for anyone else to hear his words—as if they belong to me and me alone. When I nod, I can feel my hair rub against the apron spread across his chest. I know that if I tilt my head to the side and look up, I’ll see his face.
His totally distracting face
. I can’t stop myself from acting on my indulgent desire.
Best damn decision I’ve made all day.
“You sure?” he murmurs with a smirk.

Okay—it’s time I hand this baby over before I drop her for different reasons,
I think, offering her to Daphne. “I’m so, so, so sorry for being such a klutz.”

Daphne smiles at me as she props Caroline—who seems not to have noticed her recent peril—lovingly against her chest. “She’s okay,” Daphne assures me before kissing the top of her daughter’s head. “Besides, those two really should come with a warning.” She nods toward Roman and Logan. “When I found out that they were into each other, I went a little bat-shit-crazy. I’m guessing, considering the state of their tolerance for each other when you last saw them, learning that they’re newlyweds pretty much blows your mind. Am I right?”

My mouth hangs open, my response orbiting around my mouth as if there’s some sort of barrier preventing the words from crossing beyond my lips. I know that I need to get a grip, that I probably look like an idiot as I stare at them, but I can’t help it. Logan looks as beautiful as ever—her platinum blonde hair twisted back into a loose bun, her professional attire somehow making her
more
alluring than I remembered. Roman, who is alternately dressed casually in a pair of shorts and a v-neck t-shirt, looks just as debonair as always.

I have this sudden urge to get out of here—away from these people whose lives have begun to take shape. They’ve found love and happiness and
careers
and I have never felt so out of place in my life. No matter where I turn, it feels as if I’m the only one who doesn’t have it all figured out. It scares the shit out of me.

Not to mention, the girl from yesteryear would have said some smart-ass, witty comment about Roman and Logan. If she were here, we’d all be laughing and no one would know how panicked I feel right now—how close to tears I am—but
that
Sarah is gone.
She’s gone.

“Shit! You just reminded me, I have someplace I have to be right now,” I say, drumming up as much enthusiasm as I can muster. “I’m so sorry—it was good to see you. We’ll have to catch up soon, okay? I’ll be around. And congratulations on the marriage and stuff.”

I force a smile before I turn my back on them, anxious to grab my purse and bolt. Instead, I come face to face with Brandon. Err, rather, face to
neck
. I gasp, instinctively reaching out my hands to prevent a collision, my fingers making contact with his chest. When I look up into his eyes, I can see it—I can see that he knows I’m lying. I try and convey the
loudest
silent apology possible.

I want this job—I
need
this job—but I have to get out of here.

I reach for my bag and head for the door.

“I’ll see you,” I call out over my shoulder.

The second I step foot outside, my eyes are full of angry, bitter tears. I’m only mad at myself. Mad. Disappointed. Embarrassed. I just made a fool of myself. Not to mention how rude I was to Logan and Roman!

“Sarah! Wait!”

I stop, not out of obedience, but out of surprise. I don’t turn to address him, but that doesn’t deter him. He doesn’t stop his approach until he’s standing in front of me.

Brandon
.

“What just happened?”

I don’t seek out his eyes until I’ve managed to blink some of the excess moisture out of mine. Then I see his concern, tugging at his brow, and I begin to lose my grip on my emotions again. I try and look away but he brushes a finger underneath my chin, lifting my head once more.

“What just happened?” he repeats.

“I’m—I’m sorry.”

“No,” he says, interrupting me before I can say more. “I don’t want your apologies. If we’re going to be working together, I’m going to need you to do better than
I’m sorry
. Those words just don’t mean very much to me anymore.”

His statement makes me pause. There’s something about the way he said it—
those words just don’t mean very much to me anymore
—that makes me wonder who or what stole the sincerity behind an honest apology from him?

Then I register the first half of his declaration—the part where he said
if we’re going to be working together
. He’s still considering me for the position. Right here, right now, my answer means everything.

“Truth?”

“Truth,” he insists with a curt nod.

“I’m a mess,” I reply with a shrug. “I’m trying to figure it out; I’m trying to put myself back together but—I’m a mess. I can’t promise perfection, but I can assure you that I really am trying.”

He studies me for a moment before he speaks. “Can you start tomorrow?”

“Really?” I exhale, more relieved than I thought I’d be at his offer.

“Tomorrow. Seven o’clock.”

“Yes. Yes! I’ll be here. Thank you.”

A small smile plays at his lips and he drags a finger along the length of my jaw. “Keep your chin up. Don’t ever hide those eyes,” he says before he leaves to head back inside.

It takes every bit of will power I have
not
to turn and watch him make his way back into LB.

I got the job. Not the man. The job.

S
HE SMELLS LIKE SUNSHINE
, or what I imagine sunshine would smell like. Fresh. Natural. Bright.
Completely and effortlessly sexy
. As I make my way back into LB, I remember how she felt in my hands when I caught her from her stumble. The moment she looked up at me, those full lips in reaching distance of mine, I knew that hiring her would be a mistake. I also knew there was no way on earth I was going to tell her no. If I’m being honest, the job was hers as soon as she mentioned it. After our short and pointless interview, I’m sure she’ll do fine—it’s me I’m worried about.

She’s gorgeous and sweet and that smile—God, that smile—it pulls me in. There’s also a sadness in her blue eyes that kills me. I want to know her, understand her, figure out what her
mess
is and help her fix it…but hiring her makes her off limits.

She said she needed the job. Well, I need the help. I can’t go chasing after her—at least, not in the way that I want. I can’t risk losing a good fit by complicating things.

“What was that about? Is she okay?” asks Daphne as I approach.

Caroline is now in Roman’s arms. Both he and Logan look away from her and focus their attention on me, clearly just as interested in my answer as their sister. I barely even think about uttering the truth as the undeniable urge to protect her encourages me to embellish the lie she told before she practically sprinted out of here.

“Yeah. I guess she hadn’t planned on staying so long and she forgot she was supposed to be somewhere. She’ll be back tomorrow.”

Daphne grins before she asks, “Did you offer her the job?” I nod and she brushes her hands against each other. “Well then, my work here is done. Bookclub is going to start in a minute. Rome, just bring Care over when you’re ready,” she instructs, kissing the babe in passing.

“Sarah’s going to be working here? She moved back?” asks Roman.

“Yup,” I answer simply, annoyed that he and Logan can be added to the fold of people who remember Sarah far better than I can. “So, Logan, Daph said you wanted to talk to me. What’s up?”

As I change the direction of the conversation, they both follow, for which I am grateful. Logan and I talk business for a few minutes before I leave them to bond with Caroline. For the rest of the day, I help out behind the counter and make a list of all the things I want to train Sarah to do throughout the remainder of the week. With any luck, she’ll feel comfortable in her new position before the end of the month.

After I get everything closed up and ready for the next day, I ride home. It takes me no more than fifteen minutes to make the journey, the warm breeze at my back, the moon already up in the sky. Like most days, I’m wiped out by the time I carry my bike inside, mounting it up on the wall where I usually store it. The studio apartment I call home is just as tidy as I left it. These days, I’m not here enough to mess it up.

I hop in the shower before I fall into bed. Just as I close my eyes, Sarah finds her way into my thoughts. Suddenly, I’m impatient for tomorrow, for the chance to see her again. It makes it damn near impossible for me to fall asleep. When my alarm clock sounds at the ass-crack of dawn, I can’t be certain if I got any sleep at all. Nevertheless, the prospect of seeing her has me out of bed and out the door in no time.

I don’t know why I’m so anxious, knowing I can’t have her. The most I can hope for is that we’ll be friends—no matter how sexy I think she is. She works for me, now. Yet, regardless of how many times I repeat that truth, I still find myself looking at the clock every half an hour, wishing seven o’clock would hurry up and get here faster.

As soon as a knock sounds at the front door, I immediately drop what I’m doing to go answer it. When I see her through the glass, I slow my pace, unable to stop myself from taking her all in. Her long locks from yesterday are now contained in a loose side braid that drapes over her shoulder. She’s in a pair of shorts and a printed top that sculpts her form in such a way that makes my heart race. Her oversized purse is strapped on her shoulder and she’s got what looks like a yellow covered tablet in her hands. I have to remind myself, as I unlock the door, that she’s off limits.

Look all you want, but you can’t touch.

“Morning,” I say in greeting.

“Hi,” she replies with a smile. “So, I wasn’t really sure what to wear. I don’t know what your rules are here, so I brought a change of clothes if what I’m wearing isn’t appropriate.”