My cheeks heat and I look away, giving my attention back to Emmy.
“French toast, huh? Well, you came to the right person.” I walk into the small kitchen and assess what ingredients they have out and what I still need to grab. “The trick to the best French toast is cinnamon and vanilla.”
I open the spice cupboard and find what I need. I squish my way past Archer, who’s moved to the side, making sure my ass brushes across his pelvis. I hear his sharp intake of breath, which has my normal confidence return. He wants me. He’s into noodles.
“Okay, Miss Emmy, come here.” I lift her onto the countertop and hand her an egg. “Crack this against the side of the bowl.”
That little squirt hammers the egg into the bowl, dripping yolk and whites all over. Archer’s right there with another paper towel that I use to wipe up the mess.
“Good job. Why don’t I do the next couple and you can stir.” I hand her a fork.
With Lou sitting at the island watching, I teach them all how to make French toast. Archer and I share stolen glances and secret smiles, while taking turns dipping the bread and sliding it onto the griddle.
I serve the kids at the island, but without a word spoken, Archer and I go into the formal dining room to eat, for some privacy.
“You’re right,” Archer says with a mouthful of toast.
“I’m always right, but what am I right about this time?” I tease.
“Vanilla and cinnamon are the key.”
“You like it?”
“Very much.” His gaze is heated and intense. Like he’s saying he likes more than my breakfast skills. “I hope Emmy didn’t wake you up.”
“No, I was awake. I just didn’t know if you wanted me out here with you guys, so I was giving you space.”
“I always want you around.” He clears his throat. “I mean, the kids and I always want you around.”
“What if the kids aren’t around?” I want to keep pushing. I want him to admit he still has feelings for me, but he ends the conversation with his next words.
“I’m glad you’re here. I’ll leave it at that.”
We eat in silence for a while after that, the only sound being our chewing and the giggling in the next room over.
“So, you’re taking the kids to see Sara this week?” I ask, remembering our conversation after he got back from visiting her last week. He was a nervous ball of energy when he left, but when he came back, his whole vibe had changed. He was calm and happy. I was so grateful it went well.
“Yeah. On Thursday. I took the day off, figuring I’d take them for lunch and maybe tour Camden. I don’t know.”
“Do they know?”
“Not yet. As soon as they find out, they’ll talk about it nonstop. I thought I’d save us both from that torture.”
“Smart. Have you heard from her this week?”
“Yeah. She calls once a day to say good night to the kids. She sounds healthy. I can’t wait for her to get home.”
“I’ll bet.”
“You know, she wants me to move out after she gets settled.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I guess I should start looking for a place on top of looking for a job for her.” He takes his last bite, moaning in pleasure. I love feeding him. He makes the sexiest noises and loves food so much. It makes me proud that I make him happy with my cooking.
“I told you I’d hold Sara’s job. Just say the word and it’s hers.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that and I’ll mention it to her, but she said she’d like to find something during the day. She wants the kids to go to preschool or daycare, that way she won’t be relying on me as much. She’s all about gaining independence. Her therapist thinks it will empower her or some shit.”
“What was she going to school for before she dropped out?” I ask, thinking of anyone I know who might have a position open.
“Business management is what she wanted to do, but she barely make it through one semester. Not enough to gain any real skills.”
I think about the mountains of paperwork sitting on my desk and an idea pops into my head. “What if I hire her to help out with Blur and Focus? I’ve been thinking about finding a stock clerk and someone to help with payroll.”
“Are you sure? I don’t know. She doesn’t have experience.”
“I didn’t either when I started, but I have a system now and it would be easy to teach her. She’s smart and personable. I think she could help build relationships with my suppliers.”
Jarrett’s voice pops into my head about how much I interject myself into their lives for no reason at all, but I push it away. It feels right. Whether something happens with Archer or not, I’m connected to this family and I can’t turn my back on them.
“And it would be a day job?” he asks, propping his elbows on the table and knitting his hands together.
“Yep. I usually do all of the purchasing stuff during the day and payroll and bill paying at night, but there’s no reason she couldn’t do all of that during the day. I can either put a second desk in my office, or she could even work from home. It doesn’t matter.”
I immediately regret offering a desk in my office. We’ve had some amazing times in that office and a second desk with pictures of his niece and nephew on it would most definitely stop that from happening.
“I’m sure working from home or even venturing to Fran’s sometimes would be beneficial for her. But are you sure? You’ve done so much already. I feel as though you keep giving and giving and we’ve done nothing for you.”
“I’m sure. Ask her about it on Thursday. I can’t pay a ton, but it’ll be more than she was making bar tendering.”
“Thank you, Kian. You were put into my life for a reason. I’ve never been a spiritual person, especially after my childhood and then Mason. I thought I was put on this earth to suffer, that I would be shit on my whole life. But you came along like my very own good luck fucking charm.”
“You would’ve figured it out on your own. I was just in the right place at the right time.”
“It’s more than that. Anyone else would’ve walked away the day I broke down over charcuterie. Or when my sister had a drunken breakdown at your bar. There were so many reasons for you to walk away and you didn’t.”
He reaches under the table and places a hand on my bare knee. My skin heats. Then his thumb rubs back and forth. Fuck. Arousal hits me fast and hard. I should’ve made more time to jerk off this week. I’m a ticking time bomb. He pins me with a look.
This is it. This is when he’s going to tell me we should try again. I can feel it.
“You’re the best friend I could ever ask for,” he says, removing his hand and standing to clear our plates.
My dick deflates and my breakfast threatens to resurface. Friendship. I’m starting to hate that word.
We spend the day doing normal things. We go to the grocery store and out to lunch. To the outsider, I’m sure we look like a proper family. But after our talk at breakfast, I’m feeling like a third wheel. I’m just a man, who despite being friend zoned over and over, holds onto hope.
But that hope is dwindling and I’m starting to get the idea Archer will never come around. I’m an idiot. I should’ve been listening to Jarrett. And Fernando. And every other person who told me I was going to get hurt.