15. Carter

Focusing on my job while Sam hung out in my living room was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. All I wanted to do was cuddle on the couch with him instead of dealing with the fallout from our database project being incorrect.

The higher-ups were leery about continuing with the project. I can’t fault them for that. My boss made the point that we’re good enough at our jobs to catch anything that would be wrong, as made obvious by the fact that we caught the scoring issue in the first place.

I was ready to throw in the towel and be done with the whole mess. Even if it meant the last six months of work would go down the drain. The rest of the team felt similarly when we met this morning to discuss the latest news. William was still testing out the rest of the database in the high likelihood the company wanted it to be up and running by the deadline.

It wasn’t until after a perfect lunch with Sam that Paul told me RetLab seemed to be functioning fine, which meant something went wrong when we integrated the program into our database. I can’t quite conceive how that’s possible, but I’m determined to figure it out. We can’t afford to have this big of a mistake hanging over our heads. At best, it would discredit our entire team. At worst, I could lose my job. Our researchers need to know they can count on their IT team to keep their data safe. If they can’t trust us, what reason would they have to keep me in charge?

What a disaster.

I offload the few projects I haven’t wrapped up yet onto Eliza and William to focus on the database. It’s going to take weeks to dig into the chain of events to figure out where we went wrong. Even then, I’m not confident I’ll be able to find out what happened. It’s going to take luck and a shit ton of my energy if I have any hope of keeping my job.

Hours go by as I build up the timeline of events. Each piece of this database was coordinated like a complex clock. I knew we needed copious amounts of checks and balances to ensure each stage was completed to perfection.

Nothing about what I’ve gathered so far indicates when the scoring program was altered, but at least it’s a start. I glance at the clock only to realize it’s five-thirty.

I pull my glasses off and rub my eyes. I’ve been at this since one. My brain is fried to a crisp. Normally, I’d push through since there’s plenty more I could get done, but I have a hot firefighter sitting on my couch. The choice is a no-brainer.

I walk out of my office and walk toward the living room to find Sam curled up on my couch with a book in his hands. He hasn’t noticed my presence yet, so I take advantage of the moment to ogle him without reservation.

He’s the most attractive man I’ve ever seen. His sandy blond hair is a messy mop on top of his head, and he has the cutest frown lines between his eyebrows from concentrating on his book. I can’t see what he’s reading right now, but I’m dying to know what his preferences are. I don’t read books very often because I spend too much time reading code on my computer. The evenings are my time to give my eyes a break.

“Hey, Smoky.” I move closer to the couch to sit next to him.

Sam startles. “Jesus Christ. Not nice.”

I laugh. “Sorry. Must be a good book.”

He holds it up for me to read the title. The Shining by Stephen King. No wonder he was startled.

“Have you seen the movie?” I ask him.

“Yeah, but I’ve heard that King wasn’t happy with how it was produced, so I wanted to read the book.”

“Huh. I’m not one for scary movies. They give me nightmares, so you’ll have to tell me which one you prefer.”

“Oh, the book. Hands down.” Sam laughs. “I don’t even need to finish to know it’s better.”

I chuckle. “Should’ve guessed. That’s usually the case, regardless of the movie adaptation.”

“How was your day?” Sam bookmarks his page and sets the book on the coffee table. I take advantage of the space and lay my head on his lap. His fingers begin to comb through my hair, making me hum in appreciation.

“Long. And stressful.”

“I’m sorry. Anything I can do to help?”

“You’re already doing it. That feels fantastic.” I sigh. I tell Sam all about the issues with our database and how worried I am that if I can’t find the source of the problem, they’ll fire me. “I know the worry is probably irrational. We found the issue before the database went live. There’s no logical reason he would fire me, but I can’t help it.”

“Has your boss given any indication that your job is contingent on you finding out how it happened?” Sam’s hands have moved from my hair to rubbing my temples.

“No. He honestly seemed relieved to know it was a fuckup on our end instead of the program itself having issues.”

“Then maybe it’s not quite as big of a deal to find the source. I’m not saying you shouldn’t figure it out still, but killing yourself over it may not be necessary.”

Tension begins to drain from my body with his words. How many times have I wished I had a sounding board for my anxiety? When I was with Chase, I always kept my worries to myself. Anytime I tried to vent about them, he made me feel like I was acting crazy. I know most of my anxiety is rooted in illogical reasoning, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying about it.

“Thank you for letting me vent. Most of the time, I can work through my anxiety on my own, but when it’s something this important, rational thinking goes straight out the window.”

“I’m happy to listen anytime you need me.” Sam leans down and presses a gentle kiss against my lips. “Now, what are your thoughts on getting Athena’s Table for dinner? The movie I watched earlier had a scene in Greece, and now I’m craving Greek food.”

“That sounds amazing.”

“Should we invite Nolan as an apology for giving him a show?” The twinkle in Sam’s eyes makes me grin.

“Fuck that. He owes us an apology. He should’ve knocked in the first place.”

Sam drops his head back with a laugh. “Fair enough. Ask him what he wants, and I’ll order it.”

“Oh, fuck you!” Nolan laughs. His grin lights up his face, and for a second, I’m taken back to when he was ten and giggling at his fart.

Sam is laughing so hard tears are running down his cheeks. They’re both sitting on the stools at my breakfast bar while I stand on the other side of the counter watching the two of them laugh. We finished dinner a while ago and even managed to keep the awkwardness to a minimum when Nolan got here with our food.

“You can’t tell me that wasn’t the funniest moment of our childhood,” I counter Nolan’s outburst.

“I was six! What the hell did I know about where babies came from?” He argues.

I turn to Sam. “He was so afraid he’d poop out a baby he didn’t shit for like two weeks. Mom and Dad were so worried he’d explode, they forced a pint of prune juice down his throat until he didn’t have a choice.”

“I fucking hate you,” Nolan grumbles through his laugh. “Should we tell Sam about the time you thought you needed to fart and instead you shit your pants?”

My face turns beat red. “Hey, that can happen to anyone. In fact, Matthew had a similar problem when he was in high school. At least I was a kid when it happened to me.”

“I remember that one! Oh my God, that was so awful. It was in the car, and we had to drive with the windows down the rest of the way home.”

“In the middle of December, no less.” I laugh.

Sam shakes his head as he wipes his eyes. “You guys had a crazy childhood. I can’t even imagine what it would’ve been like to grow up with you.”

“Loud,” Nolan and I say at the same time, causing us to laugh again. It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed like this, and having Sam here to listen to the silly stories of our childhood makes it better. Even if Nolan embarrasses me in the process. Seeing how well Sam gets along with Nolan makes me wonder how he’d get along with the rest of my siblings. I’m sure he’d fit in better than I do. He’s so adaptable that I can imagine him rolling with the ridiculous things my family says at dinner.

“You didn’t grow up with any siblings, Sam?” Nolan asks.

“Nope. It was just me and my mom. The closest I’ll get to having them is the guys at the house. They’re like my brothers, now that I’ve been there so long.”

Nolan takes a sip of his beer. “How long have you been a firefighter?”

“I’ve been in Sonoma for six years. Right after high school, I became an EMT. After working closely with the fire department in Greensboro, I was encouraged to get the proper training to become a firefighter. So, I guess it’s been almost ten years now.”

“Damn, I can’t imagine being in the same career for that long.”

“How long have you managed O’Malley’s?” Sam asks.

“I’ve worked there off and on since I was eighteen. When I went to college, I worked there over breaks and even some weekends. Jimmy, the owner, took a liking to me and gave me any and every job he had available until I was old enough to bartend. It took me a couple of years to realize I was happier doing shitty jobs at O’Malley’s than I was at school, so I finally came back to Westlake and worked at the bar full time. Last year, Jimmy told me he was ready to take a step back from doing the day-to-day shit and asked me if I wanted the job. I jumped on it.”

“He’s made that bar even more successful than Jimmy did,” I tell Sam. Nolan looks down at the counter with a small, embarrassed smile.

“I just implemented some of the things Jimmy always wanted to try but never had time for.”

“Sure, if you want to be modest about it, that’s all you did.” I wink at him. He rolls his eyes but smiles at me, regardless.

“As much as I don’t want to leave, I need to get home to prep for my shift in the morning,” Sam says as he stands from the stool. I move around the counter and walk with him to the front door. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Nolan disappearing down the hallway to give us a little privacy.

I palm Sam’s face and lean in to kiss him. His soft lips mold perfectly to mine. Then his tongue sneaks out to tease my lower lip, and I groan. It’s like lightning forks through my body every time.

I wrap my arms around his waist to pull him closer. His hard length presses into my hip, and all I want to do is take him back to my bedroom.

“Fuck, Carter,” he breathes.

“Call me later?” I raise an eyebrow at him, hoping he gets my message.

“I’ll do you one better and FaceTime with you.”

I shiver at the idea. “Deal. Text me when you get home, please.”

“I will.” He presses another kiss to my lips before lifting his duffle from the floor and leaving.

I blow out a breath to gather my bearings. I’m pretty sure he’s a wizard. At the very least, he’s got to be magical in some way because it’s the only thing that explains what he does to me.

Whatever it is… I’m hooked.