Page 20 of Mr. Infuriating (Mister #1)

Gabe

Our breakfasts had just been served and as Gretchen buttered her pancakes, out of the blue she asked, “Is there any way you’d consider a payment plan for the cabinets?”

I took a long swig of coffee to buy myself some time before answering. I didn’t want to upset her, but I knew I needed to be honest.

Setting my mug back on the peeling brown laminate table, I remarked, “We never have.”

“But there’s a first time for everything right?”

She sounded so hopeful, but I could hear Maverick now.

We’re not a financing company, Gabe. Payment on installation. We don’t need that hassle of chasing people down for our money.

Normally, I’d agree with him. But Gretchen wasn’t just any client. Maybe we could make an exception. While my brother was technically the “silent” partner, we made decisions together. I wouldn’t make this decision arbitrarily. I’d want his buy-in.

Still, I didn’t want to get her hopes up.

“I’m not sure how that would work. My brother would insist on a lot of stipulations. It’d probably be more cost effective to just go through your credit card or bank.”

“Don’t you think if you offered financing, you’d increase business?”

The clientele we usually dealt with didn’t need financing, but she had a point.

That was another market we could tap into, if I had the space and manpower to accommodate it.

I know Maverick would be concerned about cheapening the brand if it was more easily accessible.

But it could be a new revenue stream. Maybe we could do an offshoot label.

“I’ll talk to him.”

“How much would it knock off my bill if I installed them myself?”

I tried to school my expression. I couldn’t decide if I should be insulted. Like she was saying cabinet installation wasn’t a skill, and anyone could do it with no training. I knew she was just trying to find a way to save money, so my ego settled down.

“You know how to install cabinets?”

She sheepishly glanced down at her breakfast plate.

“Well, no. But you can learn a lot from YouTube.”

“I don’t think you want to be experimenting a DIY project with custom kitchen cabinets.”

She persisted and cut into her hot cakes with gusto.

“But let’s say I did. How much would that reduce what I owe?”

“I’m not exactly sure what your quote was, but normally installation is about twenty-five percent of the cost.”

I could see her doing the math in her head.

“I promise you, it’s not worth whatever you’d save to have your cabinets installed incorrectly. Your beautiful, custom cabinets would lose their value if they’re not put in right.”

“At least I’d get to keep my house.”

I drew my neck back. Keep her house?

“What do you mean? ”

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, since I’m essentially giving my secrets to the enemy, but my lawyer told me I wouldn’t win in court. He advised me to let the cabinets be installed and have you put a contractor’s lien on the house which means—”

“You’d have to sell your house,” I finished for her.

“Yeah.” Tears filled her eyes when she looked across the table at me. “I don’t want to have to leave Lancastle. So, if it means living with crooked cabinets, or even cabinets just taking up space in my garage, I’ll do it.”

Aw hell.

Tears were worse than having her pissed off at me. I could take her ire and calling me the Jerk of the Year, her crying on the other hand…

“Let me deliver the cabinets this weekend, so at least you won’t have the storage fees tacked on, and I’ll talk to Mav about what we can do about a payment plan.”

A big sigh of relief left her body as she gushed, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I can’t promise anything.”

“But you’re willing to try, and I appreciate that more than you can know.”

I liked the idea of being the guy who saved the day for her. The idea of having to face Mav, not so much.

But the way she was smiling at me from across the table, I’d be willing to take my brother’s wrath.

“I can bring a load over tonight after Brayden’s game, then maybe we could grab a bite to eat?”

Gretchen cocked her head at me. “Like a date? ”

“I mean, if you want to label it, yeah, like a date.”

Her eyes narrowed, and I got an uneasy feeling I wasn’t going to like her response.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Before I could ask her why not, she continued, “We agreed last night was a one-time thing. You said so yourself you’re not looking for a relationship. I feel like if we went on a date, my heart might get the wrong idea.”

Yeah, mine too.

Yet, I still wanted to see her again. Consequences be damned.

“How about this? Instead of looking at it as a date, we just consider it a continuation of last night. Instead of one night, it’s one weekend?”

She took a bite of her pancake stack and chewed slowly as she contemplated my offer.

When she swallowed, I braced myself for her reply. But instead of answering me, she took a swig of her orange juice.

You’re killing me, woman!

Finally, she said, “Okay, but how about I make dinner instead of us going out?”

“Deal,” I blurted out, not wanting to give her an opportunity to change her mind. “I’ll be at your house about six.”

“I can have dinner ready by six-thirty. Will that give you enough time to unload the cabinets, or should I plan on seven?”

“Six-thirty is perfect. ”

For the first time in a long time, I had something to look forward to other than spending time with my kids or going to work.

****

Gretchen

It felt like if Gabe and I went somewhere for dinner, it’d be a date—no matter what he wanted to call it.

Even though we were staying in, and I was cooking, I still styled my hair and “made myself pretty,” as Laura liked to call it. But the evening would be casual, less date-like.

I can keep it superficial.

I knew I was full of shit.

That wasn’t how I operated. I liked the guy. I wouldn’t have taken him home if I hadn’t. But I also knew there was zero chance of anything coming of it.

I should have taken him up on his offer last night to leave once we’d done the deed. But even as I thought it, I had to admit that I was glad I hadn’t. It’d been nice to wake up next to him.

Now, I just needed to keep reminding myself that it wasn’t going anywhere. I was living in fantasyland this weekend, but come Sunday, I’d be back to my real life. Juggling work, being a mom, and making ends meet.

Maybe meeting Gabe and not knowing who he was at first had been fortuitous.

I never would have gone home with him if I’d known he was the guy I’d reamed out via text message earlier yesterday.

And I doubt very much he would even have considered letting me make payments had I not actually ridden his dick.

And even though that wasn’t why I’d done it, I guess some people would still think that it made me cheap.

Of course, to those people, going home with a man I’d just met would confirm it.

Hell, I was one of those people. I didn’t do one-night stands.

And yet, I had.

I couldn’t find it in me to regret it, though. I’d had the best sex of my life, and it just so happened that I might be able to figure out a way to keep my house in the process.

Win-win.

And I was going to continue telling myself that.