Perfect Kiss by Lacey Black
Chapter 7
Malcolm
Is it weird I’m excited about the monthly finance committee meeting?
Yes, weird and completely out of character for me.
The finance committee is the one meeting I always dread, because there’s always some argument about how the budgeted money should be used. But tonight, I’m excited to be here. Why? Because it’s Monday, and Lenora cleans the building.
The moment we’re done approving recommendations to take to the full city council next month, I adjourn the meeting and make my way to my office with minimal chitchat. Fortunately, there’s a baseball game on tonight and half the council members are anxious to go home to watch the second half.
Before I step into my office, the sound of a vacuum in the front office catches my attention. I instantly smile. I’ve thought of her nonstop since Thursday night, which makes it very hard—pun intended—and uncomfortable during the workday. Nights weren’t much better either. Except then, I could take care of that pesky problem in the privacy of my own bedroom. Or shower. Or office, like late last night.
I move to the large front office, where I find Lenora running the vacuum by Shana’s desk. Her back is to me, which gives me the perfect view of her backside. She’s wearing black leggings again, showing off her tanned calves and accentuating one of my favorite attributes.
Her ass.
Leaning against the wall, I watch her work. She’s meticulous, as I discovered last Thursday night when she cleaned my house, going over the main traffic areas twice before moving on to another part of the office.
When she reaches the end of the room, she turns off the vacuum, spins around, and startles. “Jesus, Malcolm!” she bellows, covering her heart with her hands.
“Sorry,” I reply with a chuckle. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s okay,” she quickly insists, winding the cord for the vacuum around the handle, giving me another amazing view of her ass. “Is your meeting finished?”
“Just finished up.”
“Okay. I’m almost finished here. That’s my last room to clean,” she says, wheeling the vacuum toward me to take it down the hall.
As she passes, I catch a whiff of something fruity, either lotion or shampoo, and all I want to do is find out where the scent is coming from by running my nose over every inch of her body.
“Have you already completed my office?” I ask, causing her to pause when she’s beside me.
“I have. I started there.”
A corner of my mouth tips upward. “Got that one done and out of the way while I was busy, huh?”
Leni blushes, those dangerous hazel eyes that appear in my dreams, gazing at me with embarrassment and wonder. “Yes, just to be safe.”
I lean forward, invading her personal space, and have to refrain from kissing those perfect lips. “Too bad. I might have enjoyed the interruption again.”
“Oh, Malcolm, you’re still here.”
Now it’s my turn to startle and glance down the hallway toward the council chamber meeting room, but don’t pull back from Lenora. “Raymond. I thought you were going home to catch the Dodgers game.”
The older man’s eyes sparkle with mischief as he grins at me, his eyes bouncing from Leni to me. “I was, but remembered we were going to discuss the meeting for the contract for the water treatment facility.”
I almost chuckle, knowing there was no such discussion in the works. “Well, then we better step into my office. Shall we?” I ask, finally moving away from where Leni stands frozen in place. “Talk to you later, Lenora.”
As much as I don’t want to, I leave her standing in the hallway and join Raymond in my office. Even though I’d much rather stay with her, I need to put her and that delectable ass out of my mind and focus on my job. It is the reason I’m here, right? Not to stare at her.
Though, that doesn’t sound like such a bad idea either.
* * *
Today was a bitch. I worked at the law firm all morning and had court at the county courthouse all afternoon. A case I thought was a slam dunk was anything but, and even though it ended in my client’s favor, it was a long afternoon.
Now, all I want to do is go home and relax.
And spend the next few hours watching Lenora clean my house again.
It’s Thursday evening, and I just pray I’ll be there before she arrives. It’s already almost seven, much later than I usually get home, but after court, I had to go back to the office for a while. Not only was my dad there, but my grandpa stopped by too, which resulted in me telling them about court and catching up on what’s going on at a nearby golf course.
Now, I’m finally pulling into my driveway, happy to see I have arrived before Leni. I jump out, wishing I had time to shower, but knowing it’s not going to happen. Unless I plan to have her find me standing in the bathroom naked again.
Not a bad idea, actually…
I park in the garage and hop out of my car. Before I can close the door, I hear a car pulling into the driveway. I set my briefcase down, prepared to offer to assist her with unloading her supplies, but can tell something’s not right. Lenora gets out of her car looking frazzled. I’m heading in her direction immediately.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, taking in the worry lines on her forehead and the way she pinches her lips together.
“Hey, listen, I think I need to reschedule,” she replies in a hurry. “My dad fell and, it’s probably just a sprain or something, but my mom had to take him to the hospital to get it checked out. I ran and picked up Trace as soon as I was finished at the physician’s office. I called Laken, but they went shopping and won’t be back to Mason Creek for another forty-five minutes or so, so it’s probably best I come back another time. Maybe we can—”
“Breathe, Lenora,” I whisper, wrapping my hands around her upper arms and giving them a comforting, gentle squeeze. “It’s okay. We don’t need to reschedule.”
She takes a few deep breaths and meets my gaze. “I can come tomorrow night. I’m sure Laken will be able to help with Trace.”
I’m already shaking my head. “No need. He’s welcome here. I do believe I mentioned that last week.”
She seems so unsure, narrowing her eyes as if she doesn’t understand. “Yeah, but I just thought that was you being polite. The last thing either of us need is a five-year-old underfoot when I’m working.”
“So I’ll take him out back. He can play in the backyard.”
I can’t tell what she’s thinking, and frankly, that bothers me. I’ve consistently been able to read women, but with Leni, she’s always a mystery. A surprise I can’t wait to unravel. “He probably won’t want to leave my side. He doesn’t know you.”
I shrug. “That’s fine too. I’m sure we can keep him busy in a place he can see you.”
“But…”
“No buts, Leni. I don’t mind Trace being here. I promise.”
She stares at me for several seconds, those wheels turning in that big, beautiful brain of hers. After what feels like the longest five seconds ever, she nods. “Okay. As long as Trace is comfortable.”
“Agreed.” She turns to get Trace from the back seat when she stops and turns my way. “You called me Leni.”
Shrugging, I reply, “It just seemed like you needed the security of your nickname in the moment.”
She gives me an appreciative smile, one very different than I’m used to receiving from a woman. This one lacks the I-want-to-suck-your dick eyelash batting and is replaced by open and sincere gratitude.
I think I like this look a hell of a lot more.
Leni opens the back door and helps her son unfasten his seat belt. He hops out and gazes up—way up—and meets my eye. “Hi, Trace. I’m Malcolm.”
The little boy directly stares at me, while moving to hide a bit behind his mom.
“Trace, this is Mr. Wright. I’m going to clean his house, okay? You can come inside with me, and if you’re good and quiet while I work, we’ll stop and get ice cream tomorrow from Twisted Sisters after dinner, okay?”
The little boy’s hazel eyes widen with delight as he nods insistently. “Okay. I’ll be good.”
“I know you will be,” she replies, ruffling the mop of dark brown hair on top of his head. “Do you want to help me carry my stuff?”
The little boy nods and grins the biggest toothless smile. I can’t help but grin myself. I watch as they move to the trunk. Lenora takes out the plastic tote on wheels, and when she pulls the shoulder bag out, she hands it to Trace, who stumbles under the weight. I reach forward and steady the child, lifting the bag a little to help him carry his load. Together, we walk into the garage and through the mudroom door.
“Take off your shoes, Trace,” Lenora says as she trails behind us into my house.
The boy kicks off his Velcro Batman sneakers and walks with me into the kitchen. “I’ll take this,” I state, lifting the bag off his shoulders and setting it on the counter.
I watch as Trace takes in my house, his curious eyes looking at my space from top to bottom. When they settle on the big bay window, he hesitantly moves in that direction, gazing out over the backyard and lake with a hint of a smile on his lips.
“Why don’t you take a seat at the table,” she instructs, pulling a notepad and pen from her bag, placing it in front of him. “I’ll start in here.”
While Lenora gets to work in the kitchen, I make my way to the refrigerator and grab a bottle of water. I’m not sure what kids drink, but I only have a couple of options to offer. Before I say anything, I check the expiration date on the half-gallon of milk, grateful when I see it still has a few days to go before it’s no good.
“Hey, Trace. Would you like something to drink? I have water or milk,” I offer, holding up a bottle of water and the carton of milk.
He glances up and turns to his mom. She gives him a smile and says, “You can pick.”
He looks back my way, studying both for several long seconds before he points to the milk. “Please.” His voice is quiet, yet polite, in a shy way that reminds me of his mom. Suddenly, I’m determined to pull a few grins and words from the little guy.
When I set the glass on the table, I notice he’s drawing on the notepad Lenora gave him. The sketch is very child-like but clearly depicts a fish. As he sips on his milk, Trace keeps glancing to the side, his attention on the lake out back.
After a few minutes of him looking outside, an idea creeps in my mind. “Hey, Trace?” When he looks my way, I ask, “Would you like to go outside with me to see the lake?”
Excitement flashes in his eyes before he turns around in the chair to where his mom is working. Lenora stops, clearly hearing my question, her eyes bouncing between Trace and me.
“If it’s okay with you, of course,” I add rapidly.
“Oh, I’m not sure Trace will want to go,” she replies hesitantly.
“I do!” he claims eagerly, his whole body vibrating with an enthusiastic energy.
“He’s only had one week of swimming lessons.” I can tell Leni’s super nervous at the thought of him going outside without her.
I step forward until I’m standing directly in front of her. “I won’t let him out of my sight, Leni. Promise. We’ll go stand at the dock for a bit. The lake is low right now, and the water looks calm. It’s safe.”
She swallows hard and nods, squatting in front of Trace. “You be very careful, okay? You don’t have a life jacket like when you went fishing with Papa, so you can’t get too close to the edge of the dock. Listen to Mr. Wright.”
“Okay, Mommy, I’ll be good!” Trace assures, jumping up and running to get his shoes. “Ready!” he proclaims as soon as he slides his shoes on his feet.
I glance down and laugh. “You’ve got them on the wrong foot, Champ.”
Trace looks down and shrugs before plopping on his rear and switching his shoes to the right foot.
“Holler if you need anything,” Lenora says, her hazel eyes laden with anxiety. I don’t necessarily feel she’s anxious about me watching her son as she is about leaving him with someone she doesn’t know well, nor does the boy. As a single mom living out of state, I imagine her circle was pretty small where Trace came from, especially if the father was in and out of their lives when it suited him.
“I will, promise. We’ll be right outside.”
With that, I slide open the back door, and Trace and I step under the warm sunshine. We slowly walk toward the water’s edge, Trace never getting more than a foot or two away from me, but I can tell he’s ready to go.
And in a way, I am too.
“Come on, Trace, let’s go,” I insist, taking off at a slow run.
The five-year-old follows suit, running after me with a giggle. I slow my pace and let him catch and pass me at the last second. “I’m the beater!” he professes as we reach the dock.
I huff out a deep breath dramatically. “You’re a fast runner. You definitely beat me.”
He smiles up at me, one of those big toothless grins, and suddenly, my heart lunges into my throat. It’s so weird to me, this reaction. I’m rarely around kids. Have only been near one baby, and there was no way I was holding it. I’ve never felt this sense of pride and elation by one simple smile. But seeing this look on Trace’s face just does something to me.
It makes me crave things I’ve never wanted before.
“Can we go out there?” he asks, pointing down the short dock.
“We sure can, but you have to stay right with me, all right?”
He nods solemnly and slips his hand inside my own. There’s so much trust in those hazel eyes, it steals my breath and causes my heart to dance. I guide him down the dock, which is plenty big for two people to comfortably walk side by side. In fact, I’ve never been more grateful for the wide wooden structure that came with the house than I am right now.
We reach the end and just stare out at the water. Even though we’re standing still, Trace doesn’t remove his hand from my grasp, and I realize I’m content. Just me and this boy, watching the waves slowly roll our way.
Not the way I thought I’d spend my Thursday night, with a young boy standing beside me as I stare out over the serene waters of Baylor Lake, but I can’t think of a better way to spend it.
Peaceful has taken on a whole new meaning.