Page 51 of Never Bargain with the Boss
“Sometimes, cooking for yourself is the better, safer, smarter choice. Restaurants can be dangerous places.” I look pointedly between the two of us, hoping this convoluted analogy is clearer to her than it is to me. The point is, we can’t fuck, and I think that’s obvious to us both.
She pushes back from the island and walks behind me. My spine goes straight and stiff as I pray. But am I praying for her to do something or do nothing and pretend the way I asked her to? I’m not sure.
When I feel her breath on my ear, I know which prayer I was secretly sending up. “The problem is, danger has a really big dick and it’s been a long time since I’ve been to a restaurant.”
That sentence would make anyone who heard her scratch their head in confusion because it’s complete nonsense, but what I hear is that Riley wants my dick, and that’s all the sense I need.
RILEY
Back away from the hungry lion. That’s what I should do, but instead I find myself poking it with a big stick. Even more than I did this morning.
Get dressed for outside temps. Meet in the kitchen in twenty minutes.
It’s several hours after breakfast when I send the text to both Cameron and Grace, expecting both excitement and confusion. And maybe a few excuses about why this is a bad idea. Those’ll come from Cameron, of course. But I’m not letting him off that easily, not after what happened.
This morning was a clusterfuck of epic proportions on both our parts, but I refuse to let it send us into some backslide toward awkwardness and avoidance when we’ve been doing so well. So my plan is to do exactly what Cameron suggested—pretend it never happened. It was just one admittedly awesome moment of weakness.
No big deal, I think.Just a little-bitty, teeny-tiny oopsie. Granted, one that still has my body vibrating like a plucked guitar string, but I’m choosing to ignore that.
Because as much as Cameron and I could use a distraction, Grace needs one today.
She’s my ace in the hole. Cameron can argue all he wants and pretend he has work to do in an attempt to avoid me, but as soon as I say it’s for Grace’s benefit, he’ll cave like the doting father he is. I’m counting on it. And if not, I’ll bring out the big guns… which I haven’t exactly figured out yet, mostly because I don’t think I’ll need them.
Tears? Guys hate it when women and children cry and will do anything to stop the leaking.
Hopefully, it won’t come to that, but if it does, I’ll poke myself right in the eye to draw out some good waterworks. Anything for Grace! I realize now that she’s got me wrapped around her finger too. Sneaky, sweet girl.
Eighteen minutes later—Cameron because he’s punctual, Grace because she’s eager for anything—they appear in the kitchen. Grace is wearing tennis shoes, jeans, and a hoodie, and I can see the sleeves of the long-sleeved shirt she’s wearing beneath it peeking out at the sleeves. “Good layers,” I tell her approvingly. Cameron has on handmade Oxfords, jeans, a button-up, and a navy-blue sweater that makes his eyes pop. I swear he’s standing taller, eyes filled with anticipation, like he wants a compliment too, so I give him a little poke. “Good, except you probably want tennis shoes or boots.” I point at his feet, and he looks at his, Grace’s, and then mine, which are shod in my favorite combat boots. “Trust me.”
I bought these things at a thrift store, nearly new. They’re name brand Dr. Martens, not the knockoff shit that’ll fall apart with a hard sneeze, and they’ve seen me through hell and back. I don’t think today will be that bad, but I definitely chose them, and my jeans and sweatshirt, knowing what we’re about to do.
“Where are we going?” Cameron asks suspiciously.
“It’s a surprise.” I flash him a coy look, daring him to say he can’t go after already showing up dressed and ready. He doesn’t like surprises. Unless they’re planned, scheduled on hiscalendar, and pre-approved by him, which by definition, means it’s not a surprise. “Go change.”
Poke, poke, poke.
“Yeah, Dad. Hurry up so we can go! I love surprises!”
For as reluctant as Cameron is, Grace is whole-heartedly on board with whatever’s coming her way today. I’m hoping that means her calls with Bella and Trinity went well, but we’ll get to that conversation. In the meantime, I want to take her mind off last night and put a smile on her face. More importantly, Grace’s eagerness works, and Cameron returns in a pair of ankle-high winter boots that are actually perfect, although he doesn’t know it.
We take my car, Grace climbing in the back without comment and Cameron folding himself into the passenger seat. He’s frowning, obviously not happy about the lack of control over the driving or the destination, but that only makes me smile wider at him.
Pokity-poke-poke.
I wiggle in my seat, laughing internally at his increasingly stern expression. A few minutes later, I tell them both, “Okay, close your eyes.” In the rearview mirror, I see Grace quickly do as I’ve asked, even covering her closed eyes with her hand, but when I turn my gaze to Cameron, he’s staring right back at me. His eyes are hard, his expression flat, and his jaw set. I blink innocently, not backing down, and slowly, giving me a warning the whole way, his eyes slide shut.
He needs fun in his life. Both he and Grace do. Especially together. Which is why I’ve brought them here…
“Okay, open!”
I’m most curious about Cameron’s reaction, but I keep my attention on Grace, figuring her usual happiness will counteract Cameron’s sure-to-be grumpy response. As she opens her eyes, they go wide, her mouth drops open into a perfect O, and thenher excitement… falls faster than a bowling ball off the Empire State Building.
“A pumpkin patch?” she asks, disappointment bleeding into every word. “Aren’t those for little kids?”
“Uhm, I don’t know. I’ve never been to one,” I say uncertainly, looking out the car’s window at the hand-painted signs proclaiming ‘Peter’s Patch’, the rows of orange pumpkins, a tall scarecrow on a stick with a few people posing for a picture beside it, and more. “There’s a maze, a hay ride, and a petting zoo, plus you can pick a pumpkin to take home, all as a package deal. I thought it sounded fun, but it’s okay, we don’t have to stay.”
I end with a dismissive shrug, trying to quickly swallow down my own disappointment so it doesn’t show. I wanted this to be a good day, so I’d gone searching for local activities. I thought I’d found the perfect thing, but apparently not.