Easy For Keeps (Boudreaux 3.5)

“We’re bar people,” I reply with a smile and walk behind the bar to pull out a bottle of water.

“So, why didn’t you give that pretty thing a ride on your desk?” Callie asks in the nonjudgmental way that only she can. She’s my best friend for a reason.

“Wasn’t feeling it,” I reply with a shrug, then grin. “Literally.”

“Har har,” she replies, but her smile is bright. “I haven’t heard many women stories lately.”

“You enjoy my conquest stories?” I ask, not believing her. “You always cover your ears and tell me to shut it.”

“Well, some of them are just gross. Like the time you had sex in the back of a cab. That’s just not sanitary, Adam.”

“Sex isn’t supposed to be sanitary, Cal. If you’re worried about sanitation, you aren’t doing it right.”

She shakes her head and chuckles. “Okay. So what’s up?”

“Nothing’s up,” I reply coolly, drinking from my bottle. “I just didn’t want to tap that twice.”

“You’re a pig.”

“See?” I say with a laugh. “You don’t like to hear the way I talk about women.”

“You may get around the block more than anyone I know, but you don’t disrespect women, Adam. That’s just shock value for me.”

“Guilty,” I reply with a wink. “I like to shock you.”

“You’re the only one who can these days,” she says. “But for real, everything’s okay?”

“I’m good. Just because I don’t fuck every piece of ass that looks my way doesn’t mean that something’s wrong.”

“Right,” she says, sarcasm dripping through every word. “Let’s not talk about the times I’ve covered for you at the bar while you took a break because a hot little thing crooked her finger at you.”

“Hey, I don’t discriminate. They don’t have to be little.”

She snorts. “Touché.”

It’s true. Larger or smaller, or in between, sexiness is attitude. That’s what I’ve always been attracted to, which is probably why the thought of settling down with one woman, when there are so many out there to enjoy, hasn’t interested me.

“I just have a lot on my plate,” I say logically. “I don’t always have time to bone every single woman in the Quarter.”

“You’re so eloquent.”

“I know.”

“Headed home?” she asks as she reaches for her bag.

“Nah, I’m gonna hit the gym for a bit before I call it a day.”

“I’ll see you later then.”

I glance at the door, relieved to see that Declan has returned to pick Callie up, rather than have her walk through the Quarter to her car alone at this time of the morning. I toss him a wave, then gather my keys and wallet from the safe in my office and look forward to a sweaty hour on the treadmill.

* * * *

The sun is just starting to throw some light into the sky when I leave the gym two hours later. I spent an hour on the treadmill, and then helped a guy with some weights for a while. Working out clears my head.

When I realize that I forgot my water bottle at the bar, I pull my car into the parking lot of a nearby grocery store, intending to run in and out quickly, then head home to shower and sleep for about a week.

But when I wander down the cold drink aisle, there’s a little girl clutching a ratty stuffed bear to her chest as big tears teeter on her lower eyelids, ready to fall.

And I’m sure there are more where those came from.

“Hi there,” I say kindly and look around the quiet store. There aren’t many people in here. “Where’s your mommy?”

“Lost,” she replies, her lip quivering.

Oh, God. Women’s tears, no matter their age, are my Kryptonite.

“You lost her?” I ask and squat next to her, still keeping a good three feet between us. If Mom walks up, I don’t want to look like some kind of creep.

She nods.

“What’s your name?”

She’s adorable, with black hair and blue eyes. Her cheeks are still round, like a baby, but she has to be close to school age.

Then again, I know absolutely nothing about kids, so she could be twelve for all I know.

“Belle,” she whispers and sways back and forth, making her yellow dress swoosh around her legs.

“Okay, Belle, let’s find your mom.” I don’t take her hand, but I lead her to the front of the store to the customer service desk. “Can you please page Belle’s mom?”

“Sure,” the older lady says, winking at Belle. “We’ll find your mama, sweetie.”

She picks up the phone and pages Belle’s mom over the sound system. I glance down at the little girl, who’s now whispering to her bear, and wonder who on earth would bring their daughter to the store this early in the morning. And lose her in a mostly empty store.

After two more pages and no sign of the mother, I’m starting to get antsy. This can’t be one of those situations where the mom just drops the kid off and splits, right?

No way.

Suddenly, a gorgeous woman with dark brown hair and worried eyes comes rushing into the store. “I can’t find my— Oh! Hailey, I couldn’t find you!”

“I thought your name was Belle,” I say without thinking.

“Who are you?” Mom asks, scooping Hailey up and propping her on her hip.

“I’m Adam,” I reply and step back, my hands up in surrender the same way they were earlier when Darcy wouldn’t take no for an answer. “I was helping Belle, I mean Hailey, find you.”