Page 16 of What A Croc
Sitting straight up, I stared down at my phone, my eyes wide and my dick chubbing in my pants. Thank the Goddess, if anyone entered my office my desk would hide it. It probably wasn’t a good look for the CFO to be walking around with a hard on at work.
But was Robertflirting with me?
Me:Definitely
Well, only one way to find out. I was just gonna flirt right back then.
Robert:I guess I’ll need to test that theory. Soon.
Me:I hope so.
Chapter Seven
Robert
My bed looked like my closet had exploded on it. I was pretty sure I had tried on every article of clothing I owned, in various different combinations, and rejected every single one of them.
“Pops!” Wyatt’s voice called from the front of the cabin, and I poked my head out of my bedroom doorway.
“In here,” I sighed rather dramatically, staring at the piles of clothes tossed haphazardly over my duvet. A wave of queasiness hit me from out of the blue, and I gulped, swallowing hard. Heat flashed through me, then was gone so fast, it left me slightly chilled.
Goddess, I hoped I wasn’t catching one of the endless bugs that one of the daycare kids always seemed to have. Honestly, whenever you put a bunch of children together,there always was bound to be someone with a snotty nose, or a cough, or a stomach bug. It was a miracle more of us didn’t get sick, honestly.
Maybe I should just cancel tonight.
Jackson and I had been flirting all week with each other, and I enjoyed it–a lot–but now that Friday night was here, all the reasons why this was a bad idea swarmed around my brain like angry bees.
“I came to see if you needed any help,” Wyatt stood in the doorway, peering at the mess with wide eyes, “Or a pep talk. I don’t know, I’m just trying to be supportive here. I don’t know what you need, but I’m here for you.”
Waving a hand at the mess, I slumped down on the edge of my bed in defeat. “Right now, I need a shirt that hides my too round belly, and a pair of pants that don’t make my ass look gigantic. Probably a stiff drink, and I should just call the whole thing off. Put on my comfortable sweats, make some popcorn, and watch a movie. Alone.”
Wyatt stared at me for a full minute, letting me feel sorry for myself, before he shook his head. “Nope. None of that is happening. Let’s see what we have to work with here.”
He began picking through the clothes, before he held up a light pink button down with thin white stripes that was one of my favorites. A minute later he handed me a pair of designer jeans I hadn’t worn in I couldn’t remember how long. Jane had snickered at me the first time I hadworn them, feeling good in them because the salesperson had told me how great they looked on me. My ex-wife had promptly told me I looked like a twenty-year-old and that the designer bling on the back pockets drew attention to my ample ass. And it really didn’t need to have any extra attention brought to it since it was big enough.
My joy in the jeans, and how good they had made me feel, had deflated like a balloon with a pin stuck in it. I was pretty sure I had never worn them again. Just tossed them into the back of my closet, never to see the light of day. I wasn’t even sure why I still had the things.
“They make my ass look huge,” I grumbled, shoving them back at him.
Wyatt huffed, “Just put them on and let me be the judge. If they don’t look good, we’ll try a different pair. But that shirt looks great on you.”
“Fine.” Grumbling, I took the wad of clothes into the small master bath. Wiggling my way into the almost too tight jeans, I had to admit they did feel good. Tucking in the shirt, I sucked in my stomach, trying to make it flatter. Turning this way and that, I gazed critically at my reflection in the floor length mirror attached to the back of the door.
I was carrying about twenty pounds or so more than I probably should have been. And ever since I had given birth to Wyatt my stomach had been soft and squishy. No amount of sit ups or time at the gym helped, and since Ihonestly hated most forms of exercise–my stationary bike being the one exception–my stomach was what it was.
My legs though, were shapely and nicely muscled, thanks to said bike, and my ass was decent. Looking at it in the mirror, I had to admit it wasn’t a bad ass at all for someone my age. If only my front looked as good as my backside.
Finally I just pulled my shirt out of my jeans a bit to help hide my belly bulge. I didn’t even know why I was worrying about a little extra weight, or my soft stomach, or even what outfit to wear.
This wasn’t a date. Okay, itwasa date. But I was only going so I could explain to Jackson all the ways we weren’t suitable as mates–fated or otherwise.
So what if I had started looking forward to his good morning texts? Didn’t mean a thing. I was just a bit lonely for friends, having lost most of my friends in the divorce. Sadly realizing they weren’t as good of friends as I had thought, when they had sided with Jane. I didn’t really have any friends here, outside of Wyatt and Becks, and well, they were family. I wasn’t sure they really counted.
Sure, I had met all their friends, been invited along to cook outs, and holidays, but I always felt like “the dad”. Just Wyatt’s dad, who was there, but wasn’t really someone to gossip with, or do things with on a friend level.
My co-workers were all super nice, and we got along great, but most of them were young and had their ownlives and family to go home to. They didn’t want to hang out with me outside of work.
So, yes, I had found myself enjoying, even looking forward to, Jackson’s texts. He didn’t just text in the morning either. He would shoot me a little note whenever he had a free moment. Sometimes it was just a quick ‘Hope you’re having a good day’, but it never failed to warm my insides and make me smile.
