Big Nick Energy (Bringing Home Trouble)

4. Blanca

4

Blanca

The scent of buttery popcorn permeated the air as if had been freshly popped instead of probably an hour ago. My lips tipped upward as I walked through and made sure to shut the lights. It was only me and two of the managers left. They were in the back getting the deposit ready to leave in the safe.

“Hey, Blanca!” Candace called out, and I turned around. “You sure you don’t want me to walk you to your car?”

“Then who is going to walk you back?” I playfully rolled my eyes.

“I can walk?—"

“So can I,” I countered, and she stuck her tongue out. “I’m good! I promise. If not, I’ll scream for Zeke.” Zeke was the night guard who patrolled the parking lot. He was also about seventy years old and hard of hearing.

“Okay. Just be safe and text me you got home okay!”

“Promise.” I waved. Candace was a good boss and friend. I walked out and breathed in the crisp almost winter air.

My phone buzzed with a text, and I looked at a picture my sister sent. It was of her, my mom, best friend, and older brother. All of them together around a table full of food I knew would taste amazing.

Griselda: Come over for second dinner after work!

My stomach growled, but I still wasn’t going to stop by.

Me: I’ll be over tomorrow for leftovers after my shift. I promise! I’m just tired. It was a busy night.

Immediately, the text bubbles popped up, letting me know she was typing away.

Griselda: Fine. I get it. Be safe getting home. Love you!

Me: Love you, too!

I quickly replied before pulling my keys out of the front pocket of my wide-leg jeans.

The night was cool, and while I looked around, from what I could tell the lot was empty. I could make out Zeke’s patrol car down by the video game store with his little blinking lights. I walked down the lot to the far end. My car was parked under one of the lights a little further away than I usually liked to park. But with it being the holiday, the movie theater had been extra busy when I arrived to start my shift.

About ten feet away, I noticed him, and my footsteps slowed.

A big shadow of a man resting his body against the truck next to my car. My steps slowed further. I glanced behind me wondering for a moment if I should have taken Candace up on her offer to walk me out. I should have just asked her to watch me from the exit. My heart started to pick up speed when I saw him clearly. He moved into the light until his face became clear under the lamppost and moonlight, and my feet stopped dead in their tracks.

“Mr. Marsh?” I blinked once, twice, still not believing my eyes. A truck, which I assumed was his, was parked next to me. I hadn’t talked to him since that day in the mall, but I had seen him about plenty. Sometimes I was even surprised to see him at the little coffee shop where I liked to study.

“Nick,” he corrected with a shy smile. He moved closer, and I looked around.

“Were you waiting for someone?” Is he dating Candace? Or Haley? She is still inside with Candace. That would suck! Nick wasn’t mine. I had no claim on the older man. But I hated the idea of him seeing anyone, much less any of the girls I worked with.

“You,” he announced quietly. My brain was having the hardest time processing a three-lettered word.

“Me?” I repeated, slightly breathless. I tipped my head back and met his gaze the moment he stood in front of me. “You’re waiting for me?” I asked like an idiot.

“Yeah.” His soft brown, almost caramel-colored eyes seemed to warm up and turn melty. I watched him swallow. The movement was captivating. Alluring. “I was wondering…” He made a face, and then I watched as he stuffed his large paw-like hands into the front pockets of his dress slacks.

Was he always dressed up?

Did he own a pair of jeans or joggers?

Ohmygod! The idea of Nick Marsh in gray joggers––

“Blanca?” His deep voice snapped me out of my head.

“I’m sorry.” I pressed my lips together and realized I’d totally spaced out. My eyes connected with his, and suddenly, it was like all the tension and anxiety started to slowly melt away. All from just looking into his eyes.

“How was your Thanksgiving?” he asked, and I shrugged.

“It was okay. I worked all day.” I pointed behind me without looking away from him. I couldn’t. He was too beautiful to look anywhere else.

“Have you eaten dinner?” he asked, an edge of genuine concern in his voice. What was the guy’s obsession with trying to feed me?

“Does pizza at noon count?” I asked and watched, completely fascinated, his expression change into what I could only describe as stern.

“That’s not a Thanksgiving dinner,” he rumbled, like he was disappointed. I shrugged.

“It happens. Umm, so you’re here for me? I asked again. “Why?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“See me?” This was how a lot of my dirty daydreams started. Maybe I was having a stroke and was hallucinating? Or maybe one of the gummies in the snack room wasn’t a gummy but an edible?

“Yeah.” He stepped closer and then took two steps back, like he wasn’t sure of himself for a moment. Which was not like the man I knew. Not that I knew, knew him. I didn’t. I just watched him every chance I could. “I brought you something,” he announced, and I blinked.

“You did?” What could he have brought me on Thanksgiving? He glanced at his truck and put a finger up. “Will you stay there and wait for me to get it?” he asked, almost like he was worried I would somehow run off and disappear. As if.

“You’re not going to try and lure me into your truck and kidnap me?” I teased with a soft laugh. Something in his gaze changed. Darkened. And just like that, I stopped laughing. “It was a joke.” I cleared my throat. Like Mick Marsh would ever be interested in me, much less enough to kidnap me. And if he tried, I would more than likely, even as stupid as it was, go willingly.

“I know. Umm…” He cleared his throat. “Do you want to come into the truck?” he offered.

He was twenty years, maybe more, my senior, but in that moment, the age difference didn’t matter. He was just a man standing in front of me. A really hot one but also one I could tell was slightly nervous. And it was endearing to see a slightly vulnerable side to a man who always seemed to have everything together. He’s nervous around me, a voice whispered. I chewed on my bottom lip to stop myself from grinning like some kind of creepy Cheshire Cat.

“I mean, it’s a little cold.” I shrugged. At that moment, a gust of wind picked up between us, and his face changed.

“Shit. I didn’t think,” he muttered, then suddenly, he was taking off his cable knit sweater, pulling it up and over his head in that complicated way guys did that made it look like you could end up seriously tangled yet was crazy hot. He wore a light blue dress shirt underneath, and when he moved closer, he pulled it down over me, and just like that, I was wearing his sweater.

“Wow.” I sighed dreamily. My body was suddenly overheated. “Umm, thanks,” I whispered, trying my best not to sniff the collar.

“Come on.” He took my hand and led the way to the passenger side of his truck. Without a word, he helped me up, and I watched him round the front of the truck. The streetlight we were parked under was older, and the light that shined down was a little dim, yet it cast him in a golden hue.

Before he got in, he went to the back door, opened it, took something out, then sat down in the driver’s seat

“This is a nice truck,” I mentioned, and he smiled.

“It’s a work truck,” he shared. I looked around. It didn’t look like any of the work trucks I’d been in before. Work trucks, in my experience, were usually messy and a little cluttered or dusty. This one looked like it had just been driven off a lot with less than a hundred miles on it.

“Cool,” I mumbled, and that’s when he turned and brought something between us. I looked down, and my eyes widened. “Is that––“

“Apple pie,” he announced. I stared at the cute carboard box with a plastics window on top. A small one-person-sized apple pie sat inside with a little apple-shaped pie cut-out on the edge of the crust lacing. “I figured you might be working all night, and you wouldn’t have had a chance to have something sweet.”

“Something sweet,” I repeated softly. My stupid heart wanted to swoon, but my head didn’t let me. I backed away, and without thinking, my hand reached for the door handle. “How did you know I was working?” Self-preservation won out over the hopeless romantic who was stomping her feet, upset I was asking questions.

“Honestly?” I nodded. “Lucky guess on my part since you always seem to be working.”

“You come to the movies a lot,” I noted.

“I do.”

“You never say hi,” I observed, hating the smidge of hurt in my voice.

“Yeah.” There was a hint of what seemed like regret in his eyes. “I’ve wanted to but…” His voice drifted off to nothing, and a beat of silence hung between us. One I was okay breaking.

“But what?” I asked. Without thinking, my body started to lean closer. Like two magnets that have become aware of one another, I couldn’t fight the natural pull I felt anytime I was around him.

“Blanca.” I loved the way he said my name. With his free hand, he tucked a stray hair behind my ear, and I was suddenly really grateful for having taken it down from the high bun I usually wore it in when I worked.

“There is something about you that is so damn special, different…”

“Me?” My lips twitched, and I fought from rolling my eyes. And almost like sensing it, his dark bushy brows bunched.

“You,” he conformed with a confidence that was undeniably sexy. But then again, that was Nick Marsh. Everything he did had this bigger-than-life energy to it. “Would you like to go out with me?” he asked, like he wasn’t rocking my entire world, unknowingly handing me the key to almost every dirty, forbidden fantasy I had ever had.

“Go out?” I squeaked. “With you?” I was an idiot! I should have said a hard yes. Yes! I’d go out and do anything he wanted, but I was still a girl. One who had been raised by a single mom and had been taught from an early age to be smart when it came to men.

“Am I too old for you?” he asked. His hand dropped from my face before he retreated. I didn’t like the loss of his touch and acted before I thought about what I was doing. I grabbed his hand back, and he froze. It was the first time I had initiated any kind of touch between us.

“You’re not too old for me. I’m almost twenty,” I shared even though by the way he was looking at me, I had a feeling he knew.

“Blanca,” he warned.

“I just… you saw me as a kid,” I blurted out. God, I was terrible at flirting!

No. That wasn’t true.

I could flirt, just not with Nick. There was something about the man who made me feel all warm and fuzzy while feeling discombobulated at the same time.

“Excuse me?” he asked roughly.

“Last time, at the mall,” I reminded him. “You said you wanted to buy me that dress because I was a great kid.” My eyes dropped from his face and moved down to the hand I was holding before drifting to the slice of pie he had brought for me.

“I didn’t mean?—"

I cut him off. “Did you know that was my favorite?” I asked, my eyes drawing up to connect with his.

“Yes,” he answered in a way I shivered, but not exactly in a bad way. Something inside me told me to get out. To go home. That this, him showing up out of nowhere, finally talking to me, acknowledging my presence after so long of me noticing him around wasn’t right.

But the part of me that always wondered if he was around because destiny had a sense of humor or maybe, just maybe, he was interested won.

“How?” I asked softly, and even through the darkness that cloaked us inside the cab of his truck, I noticed the way the tips of his ears turned brighter.

“I remember you and Noah talking about it. I think it was the second time you came over, and we were having dinner, talking about––“

“Birthdays,” I cut him off and blinked. That sliver of trepidation slipped away. “I forgot about that,” I accidentally said out loud.

“You said you would rather have an apple pie with vanilla ice cream over birthday cake any day of the week,” he reminded me, and my heart flipped inside my chest. I chewed on my bottom lip. Not a second later, I felt his eyes on my mouth.

“Don’t do that, baby. You’re going to bruise.” His hand rose and pulled my lip from my teeth, and all I wanted to do was wrap my lips around his thick thumb and suck it. But I didn’t. He didn’t drop his hand; he just cupped my face. I fought myself from shutting my eyes and leaning into his caress like everything inside of me wanted to.

“What’s going on here, Mr.—"

“Nick.”

“Mr. Nick,” I asked in a teasing tone, knowing that’s not what he wanted me to call him. There was something else I’d rather call him. Something forbidden and kinky that would probably weird him the hell out if he knew.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked again. This time, I didn’t hesitate to answer. I nodded. I saw relief wash over him.

“Good.” He winked before handing me the plate. “You want to eat it here or at home?” he asked. My eyes dropped to the dash of his truck, and I sighed. I wanted to stay and hang out, but it was late, a little after two, and I had to be back by nine in the morning. Long holiday weekends were great unless you worked.

“I should get going,” I whispered even though it was just the two of us.

“Okay, then.” He stroked my face one more time before I lost his touch, and I watched him get out of the truck. Before I could open my door, he was there. I took his extended hand before hopping out. He helped me into my car, and I set the apple pie on the passenger side.

“Seatbelt,” he reminded me, and I nodded. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six.”

“Tomorrow?? Shit. I mean shoot.” His eyes gleamed and darkened at the way I corrected my curse word. “Umm, I have to stop by my mom’s tomorrow.”

“Okay, then.” He nodded, and because there was no way I would take back the invitation he had given me, not once but twice, I tried to make up for it.

“But I have Saturday off,” I shared, and once again, Nick Marsh rocked my world.

All with a smile.

One I knew he didn’t share with too many people. “How about Saturday at eight?”

“In the evening?” There was no hiding the fact that it sucked hearing I would have to wait so long to see him. I knew by the intense way he stared at me that it wasn’t a detail he’d missed.

“Morning,” he corrected.

“Morning?” I squeaked. My eyes widened, and he nodded.

“Baby girl, you don’t know this yet, but I’m finally taking my chance, and patience isn’t my biggest forte. You agreed to hang with me. I’m going to milk that for all its worth until you tell me you need your space.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“You will,” he said like a vow, and I exhaled choppily. I had no idea what that meant. And usually, I wasn’t a fan of surprises or the unknown. I might not plan everything to a T like my brother or best friend, but I liked to have a loose roadmap of sorts.

Yet looking into Nick’s eyes, I was okay with finding things out when the time was right. Especially when Nick’s words floated through my head. I’m finally taking my chance, and patience isn’t my biggest forte. You agreed to hang with me. I’m going to milk that for all its worth until you tell me you need your space.

“Okay,” I found myself agreeing and surprising the two of us.

“Saturday at eight,” he confirmed. There was something sexy about the way he sounded like our date was a done deal.

“Should I meet you some—” I started to ask, but he shook his head.

“Nope. I’ll be at your apartment. Wear something cozy. It’s going to be chilly.” He squeezed my hand before shutting my door for me. “Drive safe, Blanca,” he instructed, his voice deep and meaningful in a way I felt the instructions between my legs. All I could do was nod and smile. I started my car, but he didn’t move. He simply stood next to his truck while I backed it up and drove home.

It wasn’t until I was back at my apartment, lying in my small bed, that I realized I never told him where I lived.