Just Sign Here - Cara Dee Page 0,11
only thing I have that I’m actually educated for. I’d like to keep that job for as long as it’s possible.”
I tilted my head. “What did you study in college?”
“History and education,” he responded. “I’m a high school teacher.” He shrugged with one shoulder. “There’re no jobs available where I want to work, though.”
Interesting. I had to admit I didn’t see that one coming. “You’re very service-minded. I assumed you’d studied hospitality management or customer service.”
“That’s part of why I’m not in any rush to find a teaching job,” he said. “I’m…I’m tired, to be honest. I’ve been mentally exhausted for several years. Being there for my sister—being alone with her, having all that responsibility…it’s been taxing. Then my mom needed a lot of help when we got her back into our lives too. It’s not until now—or the last two years—I’ve been able to venture out on my own.” He played with the stem of his wineglass. “I always knew I wanted to be a teacher eventually, so I forced myself to stay in school and get my degree. But as soon as I saw there were no open positions in my hometown, I sort of just walked away. I needed a job where I didn’t have to be in charge.” He seemingly felt the need to add something quickly. “I have no issues working my ass off. I like challenges and having a lot to do. I just don’t want to be responsible for hundreds of students. That career path will be there when I’m ready.”
A lot to unpack there, to put it mildly. I adjusted my tie, finding myself uncomfortable with…something. He tugged at a chord in me, and I wasn’t sure I liked it. He was tired and didn’t want to lead. He wanted to follow orders. How could I not be drawn to that like a moth to a flame? How could I not want to take a step closer and… Fuck. No. This was not the time for me to give the caregiver in me a voice. I’d buried that part of me. Or rather, it was reserved for Julia, in a very different way from how I once manifested my need to take care of those dear to me.
“That wasn’t supposed to be some word vomit.” Peyton rubbed the back of his neck, then reached for his wine and chugged half the glass.
I winced. That wasn’t how one enjoyed that wine.
“Feel free to word-vomit, as you so eloquently put it, anytime,” I told him. “But do let me know when we’ve reached ‘another day’ for the story of when your mother was missing for six years but then returned. I admit I’m curious.”
He sent me a forced smile and nodded once. “I’ll let you know. But…so, yeah, those are my terms. I wanna be able to see my family and record my show. The rest of the time…” He trailed off.
“You’re mine,” I finished with a faint grin.
He huffed and shook his head at me, eyes showing the amusement he tried to hide. “Maybe I should ask if you have any weird requests.”
“Maybe you should.”
Our food was on its way, so I ignored Peyton’s narrowed-eyed look. But God, it was fun to tease him. I wanted much more of it.
I nodded in thanks at the server, peering down at my seafood linguine. It smelled fantastic, and I ordered more wine for us before she left. Because a meal like this was supposed to be enjoyed with wine.
“What you did with Julia this morning,” I said, tucking into my meal, “with the mirroring. The way you encouraged her to follow your lead—I want more of that. She doesn’t have any siblings, and I think it would be a good way for her to learn how to be more polite.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “Yeah, it seemed to work the first time anyway. I’m sure it’ll be trial and error a whole lot.”
Definitely.
I went further. “Well, we’ll try it—at least once a day. You ask me for permission, politely, and we’ll urge her to follow. Don’t forget to include her title for me.”
Peyton dropped his fork. It landed on his plate with a clank.
I smothered my smile and let a thrill travel its course through my body, and I took a swig of my water.
“You want me to do what?” he asked quietly.
“What I want is for her to get into the habit of saying ‘May I,’ ‘Please,’ and ‘Thank you, Daddy.’”
He was blushing.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t a