It was probably a good thing he was ending their relationship over something as dumb as Spam before it even started. For her sake and also his.
He deserved better than some has-been divorcé who had seven hundred pounds of baggage and the Wilson family name extending a shadow across her entire life.
Be free, little gazelle. Go find a woman dragging less weight.
I’ll be there at six. His text lit up the screen she was still staring at. Wait, what?
Do you want to come to my family’s New Year’s Eve party with me tomorrow night? She hit the send button before her brain could catch up to her heart. Geez, what was she doing?
Do we have to dress up? he texted back.
Yes. Send.
Her heart was drumming against her breastbone. Seconds ticked by. A minute. Two. Shit. He had ghosted her.
She shouldn’t have asked him. Going to a Wilson party wasn’t some laid back affair. It was drinking in judgement and all about appearances, and people would think they were a couple. Brayden would hear about it or, God, even worse, probably be there with his new girlfriend, and she’d pushed for something Burke didn’t need to step into. At all.
I’m sorry, she speed-typed. Forget it. That was so stupid to ask, and I totally understand you not wanting to go. Send.
Cheeks on fire, Kimberly unlocked the pottery shop and pushed open the door, wiped the soles of her shoes on the welcome mat, then locked the door behind her. She still had forty-five minutes before the shop opened.
Why did she feel so insecure right now? So raw and vulnerable? Probably because she hadn’t asked a man to do anything with her since she’d met Brayden. And even then, she’d been young, arrogant, and full of head-games. He’d done all the asking. How did a woman even date after a long relationship? What was the proper etiquette? Maybe she should just accept that she would die alone.
Her phone vibrated in her back pocket as she was opening the registers downstairs. She fumbled the phone and dropped it with a yelp. When she picked it up, she stayed there squatted on the floor, heart hammering in her chest as she looked at the picture he’d sent.
It was a picture of Shoreman’s, a men’s fine clothing store downtown.
Wait…what??
Another text came through. Was driving to this place. I’m between deliveries. It wasn’t a stupid thing to ask. I got my invite in the mail already. Pretty sure it’s real gold filigree on the decorative tissue that came wrapped around the invite. *eyeroll emoji* I wasn’t going to go because they’re boring as fuck but if you wear something slutty then yes. I will go and either stare at your cleavage all night, or keep others from staring at your cleavage all night. Date or bodyguard, your choice.
Date or bodyguard. Okay. She was supposed to choose one. Date or bodyguard. Bodyguard or date. She wasn’t ready to date, right? It was too soon. Sure, Brayden had found a nice, respectable girlfriend six months after they separated, but she was still… What had Burke called it? Getting to know herself.
Bodyguard. Send.
Fine. I have conditions though.
What conditions? Send.
You have to try Spam. And you have to ignore if I accidentally forget I’m a bodyguard and glance at your bodacious bod because I know what you wear to these things, Kim. You wear sparkly dresses with the inner curve of your perfect tits exposed and a high slit up your left leg with sky-high heels. I’m refraining from telling you exactly what I’ll want to do to you in that upstairs bathroom if you wear something like that because I’m trying to be a gentleman, but if I may make a suggestion on dress choice, your finest look was the red one you wore to your parents’ anniversary celebration in March.
Oh my God, oh my God!!
You paid attention to what I wore? Stalker. Send.
I pay attention to everything that happens around me. Not a stalker. A shifter. My lion has been watching you. Scared yet?
A little. Send. But not because of his animal. Scared because of how happy and confident he was making her feel. Scared because of how interested she was becoming. Burke was terrifying in layers.
Good. You should be scared. The red one.
It’s not Wilson family etiquette to wear the same dress twice. Send.
Be a bad girl. Break the rules for me.
Holy shit, she wanted to break all the rules for him! She loved how confident he was when he spoke to her. How direct.
She hesitated only a few seconds and then typed out, I’ll think about it. Send.
Do you want to pick what I wear? I can send you a few pics.
Her knee-jerk reaction was to type out, Give me three options. I’ll choose. But she stopped typing and deleted it. She frowned at the blinking curser waiting for her to respond to Burke. Brayden had always called her controlling. He’d said she was just like her mother when he’d filed for divorce from her, and he’d meant it as an insult. And then Leslie had said the same sentiments. She had become controlling and hard to please like her mom. Since that call-out, she’d thought about the similarities between her and her mom, and she didn’t like what she’d noticed.
This was the part where she would’ve bought Brayden a matching suit to compliment her new dress so they could look perfect in the pictures that would be taken at the party. But where had all those perfect pictures gotten her? The marriage had failed, and no one had been as imperfect as her.
So, she typed out, You will look handsome in anything. Surprise me. Send.
He wrote back, See you tonight.
And now she had all day to overthink cooking Hamburger Helper for a man who was burrowing his way into her heart.
Chapter Eight
Everything was burning!
She didn’t know this kitchen yet. The heat was too high on the stove, and the hamburger grease was sizzling and popping out of the pan. She was having to stir fast because it was sticking to the bottom of the pan. There was a lot of smoke from the cooking meat, and now the tiny house was freezing cold because she’d had to prop the door open.
“Siri! Call the Black Sheep!” She really needed to change Leslie’s name in her phone.
Leslie picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”
“There’s so much smoke and I can’t find the button to the vent and I had to open the door and I’m burning everything and I need help!”
“Open the bread hanger.”
“Bread hanger,” she muttered to herself. There was a little cupboard on the small countertop. When she yanked it open, there was a switch inside. She flipped it, and the vent above the two-burner stove roared to life. “Oh, thank God!”
“Knock knock, it’s the fire department,” Burke said, rapping his knuckles on the door.
“Aaaah!” she shrieked.
“The fire department!” Leslie cried through the phone on speaker. “Is the house on fire? Kieran! We need to get to Kimberly now! She’s set the house on fire!”
“Oh, God, no!” Burke said, snatching the phone off the counter. “It’s just me, Burke! Nothing’s on fire, so tell Kieran’s lion to fuck off.”
“Shit,” Leslie muttered. “I think he needs to Change now. Wait…Burke? What are you doing there?”
“I’m banging your sister doggy-style. Mind your own business.” He disconnected the call, took the spatula from her hand, stirred the hamburger, and turned the burner down to low.