Page 19 of Husband Skills

Ew. I reach up and grip the edge of the counter, heaving myself up like I’m scaling a cliff side. My head pounds. “I don’t have a cat.”

“Not even a flat one?”

“Nope.”

A customer comes to the bar then, saving me from further interrogation, but I can tell Charlene’s worried. She keeps shooting looks at me over her shoulder where I’m slumped against the fridges, waiting for my turn to serve.

The first hour drags, but then King’s gets busier, and soon we’re in our rhythm. It’s not so bad. When we’re moving in sync like this, absorbed in our tasks, I feel less like death warmed over, and I don’t have time to replay that nightmare over and over in my head. Nor the kiss.

Not even when Kingston leaves his office and comes over to check on stock levels in the refrigerators, his dark eyes flicking to me as he counts.

Is it extra hot in here? I pluck at my gray t-shirt, shifting closer to the electric fan on the counter.

Kingston’s in another black shirt today, but this one seems newer. Crisp. Did he buy more in other colors too, like I said? Which one will he wear when he takes his future lady out for the first time? Will they go to an Ellisons’ barn dance like we did?

Ow.

Ow, ow, ow. My poor heart.

“You really don’t look good, munchkin.” Charlene leans around me to address Kingston. “Don’t you think she looks bad, boss? She’s been like this for hours now. Can’t you let her take a nap in your office for a little while?”

Kingston straightens up beside me and turns me by the shoulders to face him. He has to duck down a little to catch my eye, and when he does, his big forehead creases with concern.

There’s that silvery scar cutting through his eyebrow. His crooked, twice-broken nose. His dark, dark eyes—darker than a coal pit—and his spicy, cedar wood smell.

Shoot. I love this man so much. And he’s using me as an understudy for his future bride.

“You good, baby?” Kingston rumbles.

Baby.Beside me, Charlene sucks in a breath. She’ll hold it for all of five minutes until Kingston’s gone, and then she’ll explode all over me. You mark my words.

“Yeah. ‘M fine.”

Heartbroken, unaccountably exhausted, and weak with longing for this man. But, you know. Peachy otherwise.

“You need to go home?” His big hands are warm and steady on my shoulders. “I could drive you.”

Charlene’s practically vibrating beside me. I can feel her fizzing with all that trapped gossip. This’ll be around the whole bar in a blink.

“I’m good,” I say again, terser this time. “I just feel funny, okay? Stop fussing over nothing. You’re both such mother hens.”

And this isn’t how you speak to your boss, not if you want to keep your job for another day, but Kingston doesn’t glower at me. He glances over my head at Charlene, says, “Watch the bar,” then steers me out from behind the counter and toward the back office.

I sigh and trip along, weaving between tables. Folks laugh and chat all around, oblivious to how I’m self-destructing over here. Not realizing that I’m ruining everything in the space of ten minutes.

Whatever.Thatis the spot where Dream Kingston married another woman, and I glare down at the floorboards and scuff my feet as we pass over it. Stupid nightmare. Why’d I wake up so scrunchy and mean today?

Feels like there’s acid sloshing around my insides. Feels likeI’mthe kitty who got run over and pushed through a letter box.

Because what if Kingston meets his dream lady soon? What if I have to watch them together? What if I can’t hide my misery? So humiliating.

“Take a seat,” Kingston says when we reach his office, closing the door behind us. The sounds of the bar are suddenly muffled, and we’re alone again with his thirsty houseplant. And Kingston obviously means the leather swivel chair behind his desk—the only chair in the room—but I prop my ass against the table’s edge instead and fold my arms.

If I’m gonna get fired, I want a clear run at the exit.

Kingston gusts out a long, belly-deep sigh. I raise an eyebrow. We stare at each other.

And listen, IknowI’m being a brat; I know that he’s being good and kind and trying to take care of me as my boss, but I can’t bear this for a minute longer.

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