Simple Man (17 page)

She nodded and smiled and even laughed from time to time. His blood boiled. This was bullshit. She hadn’t called or come to see him in over a week. Didn’t she want to know how Logan was doing?

It usually didn’t bother him to simply be background noise, but tonight it did. Not once did she look up to see who was playing. Instead, she was totally engrossed in whatever the pink panther was saying.

He finished out his second set and placed his guitar on the stand. Climbing off the stage, he headed to her booth. As he approached, her date was in the middle of some anecdote, probably about how gay he was, and she was smiling.

When he reached their table the pink panther stopped talking and looked up at him. Kate turned, following his gaze. Her eyes grew wide the second she recognized him.

“Shane!”

“Hi, Kate.”

“What are you doing here?” Her hand touched her hair in what he would guess was a sign of nervousness.

He tipped his chin toward the stage. “I play here.” He stared at her and added, just to be a smart ass, “It’s a gig.”

“Oh.”

“You look nice.”

She glanced down at her outfit and blushed.
That’s right.
My
blushes.

“Um, Shane, this is Blake. Blake, this is Shane.”

The date eyed him critically. It was clear he was trying to figure out how he and Kate were connected. Shane nodded, but didn’t offer to shake the other man’s hand.

“You never called.”

She frowned and glanced apprehensively back at Blake. Who had a name like Blake?
Where’s your tennis racket,
Blake
?

“Shane and I have a mutual acquaintance,” she quickly explained.

What?
What the fuck! He glared at her. Was that all he was? A fucking case? “Logan’s doing better, by the way,” he said snidely. He waited all this time to see her, never once expecting she’d be on a fucking date. He didn’t mean to be a jerk, but there was no stopping his attitude.

Her expression looked relieved and guilty. “Good. I had wondered…”

“Had you?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. Was she wearing eye shadow? “Yes.”

He shrugged, pretending indifference. “Oh, I couldn’t tell.”

Her eyes narrowed further and her tentative smile morphed into a thin straight line. He had no claim to her, but he wanted one. He at least wanted to know she didn’t always go around kissing guys the way she had kissed him. He was second guessing everything now. And on top of that, he was just standing there like creepy band guy intruding on their freaking date. Damn it.

The conversation was over. “Well, I gotta get back to work. Enjoy your
date.
” He turned and walked back to the stage before she could say another word.

When he sat back down on the stage he saw her talking. She was probably making excuses to her date. Her motions were flustered. He should probably feel bad, but he didn’t. He hoped he ruined their night. Yeah, he was that immature.

His hand gripped his guitar and his fingers strummed the strings hard. The beat was quick and accusing as he pounded out Maroon 5’s
Wake Up Call
. His gaze drilled into her as she frantically spoke to her date. As he sang he poured his anger into the lyrics.

Her gaze suddenly jerked to his. His eyes narrowed and he articulated each word, making sure she heard every cutting lyric.

Color rushed to her cheeks and she blinked quickly, her hand on her purse. His fingers strummed harder as he belted out the lines of betrayal and being a fool. She stood and her date followed. The pink panther turned and glared at him. The guy was taller than he appeared sitting in the booth. His pants were pleated. He was nothing like Shane and everything like the kind of man he could see Kate dating.

After some fast-talking, Kate put down her purse and went to the ladies room. The date glared at him and finally took his seat. So they were staying.

Shane ended the song and went into some Beatles, his eyes never leaving the door to the ladies room. When she returned she resolutely kept her gaze away from the stage. She looked upset and that was when his guilt finally appeared.

Their waitress brought over more drinks. The date continued, but now without the presence of blushes or smiles. His anger subsided and shame settled heavy and unwelcome in his gut. He was a jerk.

She wasn’t his girlfriend. She was his caseworker, his caseworker who let him kiss and touch her. He didn’t want this douche bag putting his mouth where his had been. It occurred to him that his childish tantrum may have only increased the unfavorable outcome of Kate hitting it off with the pink panther, since Shane so easily shoved his lesser qualities into the light. Here he was, a juvenile jerk and there Blake was, all sympathetic and mature. Fuck. The guy probably had a really good job too.

He’d pissed her off and now this tool was going to swoop in and be all sweet and listen to her as she complained about him. He suddenly wanted to make her smile return, but not because she was on a date.
He
wanted to be the one to put a smile on her face.

He finished with the Beatles and cleared his throat. “This is something new I’ve been playing around with, so pardon me if it comes out kind of rough. It’s an old throwback to the eighties.  If there’re any Goonies in the audience…this one’s for you.”

Her gaze turned to his. Whatever she’d been saying was forgotten. Mouth slack, she watched him, a slight crease between her tapered brows.

He concentrated on the rhythm, trying hard to find it. He’d played the song a few times for Logan, it having stuck in his head since the night they’d watched
Goonies
, but Cyndi Lauper was no easy talent to mimic.

Once he found the beat he rode it for a while, getting the feel. The intro was longer than it should have been, but it was working for him. He practically whispered the first few lines, wondering if he was making an ass out of himself.

The second line he sang a bit clearer. As he sung about unspoken expectations, the audience’s curiosity grew and their expressions told him they were trying to place the old tune. It was likely hard to recognize done unplugged like this. When he rocked the chorus about being good enough and belted out the
ya, ya, ya, ya
, people whistled and clapped, finally placing the throwback.
And there it was, her smile, worth more than all the tips in his jar.

They left before he finished his last set, but he believed he mended some of the damage. He’d have to wait until he saw her again to find out. When he packed up, his fingers were sore and his back tired. Driving home was a challenge and he had to be up for work in five hours.

Once he got home, Lisa whispered a goodbye and Shane went to check on his little sleeping angel. Shane was detaching from the man he used to be, sort of lost, but heading somewhere good. He was getting a feel for this parenting thing, doing the work the best he could.

He patted Logan’s back and wished him sweet dreams. That night Shane dreamt of soft cardigans and dainty gold shoes. There were no pink shirts to speak of.

Chapter Twelve

The following six days proved a trial in patience. She hadn’t been to check on them in over two weeks, so with each passing day he knew she’d eventually show. She had to. Anticipation intensified until he was ready to burst.

On Thursday, when he heard the sound of her little VW bug pulling into his lot his stomach tightened.
Finally
.

He went to the door and waited as she climbed out. When she stood she paused and stared at him for the briefest moment, her expression unreadable. She bent and retrieved her bag then stiffly walked to his trailer.

“Hey,” he said as he held the door open for her. Excitement pummeled his gut.

She went in and waited. Logan slept peacefully in his swing as it rocked back and forth. He directed her to the kitchen table and she sat.

All business, she began pulling out her notebook and a pen. “How are you?” she asked.

“I’m good. How about you?”

“I’m good, thank you.” She opened her book and scribbled a date in the top right corner of the page. “Tell me how things have been going?”

Okay, she wanted to get business out of the way first. He could do that. “Things have been good. I’ve been busy. Working. Logan’s started sleeping a straight six hours through the nights which is good and bad.”

“Why bad?” She made notes, her eyes never leaving the page.

“Well, not bad, it’s just some mornings I have to leave for work and he’s still sleeping. I hate having to wake him to get ready, but I can’t be late.”

“You’ve been back to work, still on the same job?”

“Yes, same job. I should be done there in a week or so and then my union rep will send me somewhere else.”

“Same hours?”

“Usually.”

Her pen moved. As she filled in a full page of notes she turned the page and continued writing. “Tell me more about Logan. Has he visited the pediatrician lately?”

“Yes. He was vaccinated last week. That sucked.”

She scribbled, the sound of her scratchy pen abrading his nerves. “Has he moved to cereal?”

“Yes. He loves it. I think that’s part of the reason he’s sleeping better. He isn’t as hungry as often as when he was only on formula.”

“Did you get your certification in the mail from your class?”

“Yeah, a few weeks ago.” He frowned. She still hadn’t looked at him.

“There’ve been no other incidences I should know about?”

He raised his brow. “Like what?”

“Any accidents? Trouble with childcare? Injuries?”

“Are you asking if Logan’s been hurt?”

Her mouth opened and closed. “I…no. I just need to know if there’s been any incidences.”

His eyes narrowed. She knew he’d never place Logan in a dangerous situation. Didn’t she? “No. No
incidences.
”

She nodded tightly and placed her pen in her book and shut it. Looking to her left, clearly avoiding eye contact, she said, “I need to check the cabinets.”

His molars locked down. He stood. “Go ahead.”

He watched as she silently walked through his kitchen. The cabinets looked nothing like they had during her first visit. The shelves were stocked with canisters of cereal, bottles, and tiny plastic bowls. The drawers were organized with bibs and baby spoons. The fridge was filled with milk, eggs, and fresh deli products and other necessities.

“Are you using the food stamps?”

His lip twitched as his manhood withered. “Yes,” he rasped. His hand coasted over his hair. Did she have to ask him about that?

She nodded and returned to the table. Her hair was in a low ponytail. She wore no nonsense brown pants and a coral colored sweater set. “Your court date’s scheduled for less than two months from now. You’re required to fill out this questionnaire. Next time I visit I’ll get it from you. It talks about how you’re adjusting to your guardianship and asks questions about various parts of parenting.”

“Is it a test?”

“More of a survey. There are no wrong answers.”

He found that hard to believe. She packed away her book and stood. Was she leaving?

“You’ll be seeing me again sometime over the next two weeks.”

Two weeks? That was bullshit.

She pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder and headed to the door. He panicked but couldn’t think of anything to say that would make her stay.
You’re losing her, asshole
.

She paused without looking directly at him. “Do you have any questions?”

No way. She was not leaving like this. “How was your date?”

Her gaze finally met his. Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t, Shane.”

He stepped closer. Her hand fidgeted with her bag. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“You know what.”

He stepped closer again, crowding her in his doorway. “Tell me. What is it I’m doing?”

She looked down. “You’re making me uncomfortable.”

He hesitated a second, but his instincts told him she was just scared, not of him, but of how he might make her feel. “How?”

She frowned, her gaze fused to the floor. She had plain brown shoes on. Shaking her head she whispered, “We can’t do this.”

“What are we doing?” He lifted his hand and slowly traced his thumb along the delicate line of her jaw.

“Please don’t,” she whispered.

“Why?” If she didn’t like him, fine. But he felt their chemistry. She had to feel it too.

“Because it’s inappropriate. I could lose my job.”

And he could lose Logan. “Do you feel nothing for me, Kate? Am I really just another case to you?”

Her throat worked as she swallowed. “I can’t lose my job.”

“I have something on the line too.”

“Exactly. It doesn’t matter what we feel. This is wrong.”

Was she using ethics as an excuse? Maybe she realized he was just a loser who could barely support himself. “Tell me the truth.”

“The truth is irrelevant. The only truth that matters is that I’m your caseworker and this can’t happen.”

“I’d never sabotage you. I like you, Kate. I like you a lot,” he whispered, bringing his lips a breath away from hers.

Her chest rose and fell as her breathing became labored. Her eyes slowly shut. If he wasn’t standing so close, he never would have heard her. She breathed his name. “Shane.” There was so much longing in that one word. It was the confession he needed.

His lips pressed to the corner of her mouth and he kissed her softly, but implying that he wanted more. He tried to coax her lips apart, but they didn’t budge. He continued to kiss her anyway.

“Please stop.”

He stilled. He didn’t want to manipulate her. He only wanted her to admit she felt a quarter of what he felt for her. She sounded as if she were about to cry. Easing back he looked at her. Her brow puckered, a pained expression weighing on her face. “Why?”

“I told you why.”

“Give me a better reason.”

Suddenly her lashes lifted and she glared at him. “I’m not interested.”