The Long Way Home (Corps Security #6)(8)
The thought is immediately gone when my gaze clashes with the one who has always drawn me in. It’s the heat in those stormy eyes that gives me pause. It feels like I’ve been physically burned.
What on earth is going on today?
“Days Like This” by Van Morrison
“She’s out cold, Ms. Kelley.”
I look up from my computer screen, pushing the glasses that I wear to block out the blue lights to rest on the top of my head. Lewis, the sweet seventeen-year-old we hired last year, stands in my doorway. His glasses held to his face with an eyeglass chain pulled tight behind his neck. His pimple-covered cheeks blush profusely.
“When are you ever going to call me Olivia, Lew,” I joke, standing and walking around the desk after I shut off my computer, thankful it was a slow night so Riley could play while I took care of payroll. Not that it would have mattered. Everyone who comes here loves her.
“My mom always said that I should address my elders with their proper title until I’m of age to be speaking to them as a peer.”
“You’re just the sweetest thing, Lewis,” I gush, tapping his nose with my finger as I walk by.
“Thank you, ma’am,” he says, his eyes looking away in embarrassment.
I giggle softly. “So polite. You’re going to make someone very happy one day, you know.”
His cheeks get even redder as I walk away from him and into the main room. I almost choke on my tongue when I see Riley. She looks like a starfish, clinging to one of the larger couches in the middle of the room, taking up every inch possible with her tiny body. One of her arms and one leg hangs off the side, dangling above the floor. The other leg lays straight down the couch body, and the other arm above her head. Her hair, tangled all around her head, covers her face completely. My Lord, she’s perfection. And just like her mom. Right up until we lost her, Emma would sleep hard and just as messy.
Moving over to the register, I rest my hip against the wood on the other side of Ella and watch as she finishes changing out the receipt tape. She looks up and arches a brow but continues her task.
“When did the giants leave?” I ask.
“About a half hour after you went into the office. They were here one moment, gone the next. For men that big, they shouldn’t be able to move without a single person even noticing.”
I open my mouth to respond when I feel a tug on my cardigan. I look down to find a sleepy, wild-haired Riley.
“Livi, do you think we can get the white pasta from that place with the crispy bread?” she asks softly with a slight whine in her tone. She’s more tired today than usual, which I pray doesn’t mean she’s getting sick. She takes naps often after school, but she only gets like this when she’s not feeling well.
“Aren’t you in luck, my sleepy bean. You must be a mind reader because I just had the thought that tonight felt like a great night for GrubHub delivery and a movie on the couch.” I look down just in time to see her eyes light up a little more, some tiredness leaving her features. Bending down, I wrap my arms around her small body to give her a hug and kiss. She smiles back, and I happily note the exhaustion on her face hasn’t returned.
Even though she tried her hardest, the weather zapped the energy right out of her. Since we weren’t able to have a picnic and feed the ducks in the park, I hope this dinner will do the trick of easing the disappointment of missing our outing. It’s one of our favorite afternoon activities when Olde Mug has bread leftover that couldn’t be donated to the local soup kitchen, but the rain ruined that plan today. It may have stopped, but there is no way the ground isn’t holding enough water to keep it soggy for the next couple of days. Which I hate because not only do we lose out on our time together in the park, but the bread will have to be tossed now. I almost told her we could go tomorrow regardless, but then I checked the weather forecast, and sure enough, the cold weather I’ve felt moving in will be here in two days. I used to love when Boston turned cold, but that isn’t the case these days. The winter weather and chilling temperatures will make walking to Riley’s school and then to Olde Mug more challenging.
“Let me go grab my bag, bean. Keep Ella company, okay? You know she likes to put the paper in wrong,” I tell her with a wink.
I grab my purse off the hook behind the door and drape the strap over my head and across my body. Turning around, I lock the door to the office at the same time as I see Riley run over to where she dropped all her stuff earlier. She slides her backpack over her shoulders and then wobbles herself into her shoes. She’s beyond ready to go home. She never complains when we need to stay a little later than normal, but you can see it in her movements at go time that she was silently wishing we were elsewhere. I ended up staying a little longer than even I had planned, but payroll needed to get done tomorrow, and I would rather have a little extra time in the morning with Riley than sitting here on my computer poring over numbers.
At times, Riley would have been in my office with me the whole time. She has her own little setup in the corner of what she calls “our” office. Having an office doesn’t impress her as much as working the room, though. My girl prefers to be people pleasing, bopping around the shop while chatting with the regulars and meeting new customers. I guess you could say she’s our little mascot.
She smiles up at me when I hold out my hand for her, taking it immediately. I feel so much pride for this kid every time her eyes meet mine. I give her hand a gentle squeeze, our secret code to get going, and we start walking toward the front door. I stop before pushing our way out to call over my shoulder and let Ella know we’re leaving.