My eyes are blurry from staring at the screen all morning. Glancing at the clock, I see it’s lunchtime just as my stomach growls.
“Knock, knock,” Layla says, stepping into my office.
“How did you know my tired eyes needed to see you?” I ask her.
“I didn’t, but I did know that you were lost in your work and would be getting hungry.” She holds up a bag from the deli across the street. “Wanna have lunch with me?”
“I heard wanna have me for lunch,” I say, sliding my chair back from my desk and patting my lap.
“You’re incorrigible, Owen Riggins.” She laughs, taking the seat across from my desk. I watch as she unpacks two club wraps, two bags of chips, and two bottles of water. “How’s your day going?” she asks, passing me my food.
“Good. Just working on the budget. We’re still deciding on whether adding that new location in Wisconsin is a good idea, so I’m crunching numbers and listing the pros and cons from the finance side. How about yours?”
“Good. I got a text from Linda today. It was a picture of her and Ronnie on the beach. They actually both took time off from the restaurant together.”
“Good for them. Did you invite them up?”
“No. I know you had said that I could. I wanted to check with you again before I extended the invitation.”’
“Layla, it’s our—” I start, but she cuts me off.
“Our home. I know. It’s just… still hard for me to grasp the idea at times. I’m glad you don’t know where I came from. I mean, you know, but you didn’t see it. Saying that times were rough… that’s an understatement. Any money we did manage to get, paid the rent and went to drugs. There was hardly ever food in the house, and more times than not, I was locked away hiding in my room.”
We’ve talked about her life before Florida, but it still gets my blood boiling anytime I think about her having to suffer through that. Being scared to fall asleep in her own home, going to bed hungry. If I ever have the chance to meet her dead-beat mother, I’m not going to be able to control my anger or my hatred toward her.
“I can see you stewing, Owen. Trust me when I tell you she’s not worth it. I got out, and it could have been much worse than it was. There are many who were in my exact same situation and had to deal with sexual and physical assault. For all of her wrongs, my mother never hit me. She just didn’t care.”
“I’m not a fan,” I say, trying to keep the anger out of my voice.
“I’m not either.” She takes a bite of her wrap and places it back on the wrapper. I do the same, needing to give myself some time to cool off. I’m not mad at her, but I’m sure as fuck mad for her. “When I was at the deli, I heard there’s a new bakery opening up just around the corner. It should be nice for grabbing pastries for meetings.”
“Is there any way to not tell Grant that? He has a sweet tooth. We’ll never keep him in the office.” I laugh.
“Sorry, don’t think I’ll be able to hide a bakery.” She shakes her head.
“Trust me, that boy can eat the hell out of some donuts.”
“How does he stay so fit?”
I shrug. “We all work out or run, not religiously, but we do. I guess it’s just good genes. Look at Dad. He’s in his sixties and still looks slim and trim.”
“They say that if you want to know what your partner will look like in thirty years, you need to look at their parents.”
“You crushing on my dad, babe?” I tease. Her cheeks turn a light shade of pink.
“No. But I will admit he looks great and doesn’t look his age at all.”
“Well, I know for a fact you are not going to be like your mother.”
“She was pretty. She used to be. When I left Indiana, she was hardened by all of the drug use and drinking. She looked closer to seventy than her thirty-six years of age.”
“She’s young.”
“Yeah, she got pregnant with me right out of high school. I never met my grandparents, and she claims to not know who my father was. I guess at least she kept me.”
“Lay, you’re breaking my heart here,” I tell her honestly.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be a downer. I guess it’s just seeing how amazing your family is. After spending the day with them yesterday, it’s in the forefront of my mind on what I missed out on, and what I had to live through to be where I am today.”
“You are exactly where you are supposed to be.” This time when I push away from my desk and pat my lap, she comes to me, sitting sideways and wrapping her arms around my neck.
“This is going to sound crazy, but I can breathe easier when you’re close to me.”
“Not crazy,” she says, running her fingers through my hair. “I feel the same way. Like when we’re close, or when you’re touching me, nothing else can. Everything is right in my world.”
“Come on, guys,” Conrad says from the doorway. “This is a professional establishment,” he says, walking in and taking the seat Layla was just sitting in.
“What happens in my office, stays in my office,” I fire back at him. “What’s up?” I ask, tightening my hold around Layla’s waist when she tries to move.
“I smelled lunch,” he says, eyeing the table.
“Didn’t you have a lunch meeting?” Layla asks him.
“Yeah, but it was at some stuffy restaurant where the portion size is smaller than half of the palm of your hand, and five times the cost.”
“Want me to order you something? I can run across the street to the deli and grab you a sandwich or a wrap,” she offers.
“Thanks, Lay, but I’ll run over there and get something.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind.”
“I’m sure. Besides, I don’t want this guy in my ass because you’re buying me lunch.” He winks.
“He’s just a big teddy bear,” she says, resting her palm against my cheek. Her thumb traces over my beard that I happen to know that she loves when my face is buried between her thighs. “I need to get back to work.” She leans in for a kiss, before standing and gathering my trash, and wrapping up the rest of hers and placing it in the bag.
“You didn’t finish eating.”
“Did you see the size of that thing?” she asks.
“Wow, I didn’t think you shared, O” comes from the doorway.
“Oh my gosh! I’ll be at my desk.” Layla laughs and scurries from the room.
“Gotta admit, bro, that blush of hers is damn cute,” Marshall says, leaning against my desk.
“Yeah,” I agree. Then again, everything about Layla is cute and sexy in my eyes.
Another look at the clock tells me we have just four, short more hours until I can get her home and in our bed where I can lose myself inside her. It’s without a doubt, my favorite place to be.
Chapter 24
Layla
“Wow, look at you,” I say to Sawyer as she approaches my desk. “Did Royce see this outfit?”
“No,” she says with a laugh. “He had to be here earlier than me. I got to sleep in.”