Текст книги "Hold On"

Автор книги: Kristen Ashley

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 35 страниц)

Chapter Thirteen

Never Dared to Dream

Cher

My eyes opened and I saw my bed stretching out in front of me, the pillows next to mine dented with sleep.

They’d been dented by Merry.

That made me realize I felt warm and it wasn’t the bedclothes that was doing it.

I listened but heard nothing. I lifted up and saw my clock said it was nearly nine thirty.

Merry, I was discovering, woke early, even without an alarm clock.

Ethan, on a weekend, slept as long as he could.

Curious as to what Merry might be doing in my house with no one awake, I pushed the covers back, threw my legs over the side of the bed, got up, and headed straight out of the room.

In the hallway, I saw Ethan’s door was open.

Interesting.

Walking down the hall, I heard it. Voices murmuring. Being quiet.

They didn’t want to wake me.

My two guys in the kitchen, my son up early because Merry was there, being quiet in order not to wake me.

I’d never admit it to anybody, but that made me feel warm too…and squishy.

My feet silent on the carpeting, I headed to the living room through it, the murmurs becoming more distinct, but I couldn’t hear much of anything.

Until I hit the doorway of the kitchen. I heard them. I saw them.

And my knees went weak.

Ethan was in his jammies at the table, hair a mess, shoveling waffles in his mouth.

Merry was at the counter, jeans on, shirt on but untucked, feet bare, standing next to the waffle iron but taking a sip off coffee, his mouth curled up, his eyes on my boy.

Oh yeah. Shit.

Warm and squishy.

“So I was all, ‘kiss my butt,’ and they were all, ‘whatever,’” Ethan was saying.

I had no idea what he was talking about, but whatever it was, Merry found it amusing.

I liked this. I liked Merry making my kid waffles. I liked the fact he could do that at all, considering I’d paid three bucks for that waffle iron and it’d only worked once, so I was glad he’d fixed it. And I liked my kid having a guy in the house to babble guy shit to, getting up early to do it on a Saturday morning.

I leaned against the jamb and instantly got two pairs of eyes, my brown ones in my son’s face and Merry’s blue ones in his beautiful face.

“Mom! Cool! You’re up!” Ethan cried. “Waffle time!”

“Seems you started without me,” I noted.

Ethan smiled. “I was hungry.”

I looked to Merry. “How many has he had so far?”

Merry was still grinning but now doing it at me. “Three.”

“I’m a growin’ boy,” Ethan decreed.

“You’re definitely that considering I’m soon going to have to sell my plasma in order to keep you in Oreos,” I returned.

“I’ll sell mine too so we can double up on America’s finest cookie,” Ethan offered.

I shook my head, doing it smiling, and moved into the kitchen. I went straight to my son and didn’t push my luck with gooey. I just reached out and shoved his head to the side, but I did it tousling his hair just a little bit, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

He noticed and I knew this when he muttered, “You’re a goof, Mom.”

“Whatever,” I muttered back and moved to Merry.

He watched me and I watched him, thinking he looked right at home in Janis Joplin’s kitchen.

I got close, put a hand to his abs, and lifted up to kiss his jaw.

“Mornin’, baby,” he said quietly.

I pulled back my head but stayed close, looking him in the eye, trying to decide if him making my son waffles in my kitchen was a better “mornin’” than the one he’d given me the day before.

It was an impossible decision. I was just going to have to equally enjoy all the boons he was giving me.

I didn’t suspect this would be hard.

“Mornin’,” I replied.

“Want waffles?” he asked.

“Want coffee,” I answered, shifting away. “After teeth brushing,” I went on. “Then waffles after coffee,” I finished, wandering out of the room.

“I’ll get on that, princess,” Merry said.

I gave him a look as I hit the doorway.

“Mom!” Ethan cried again like I wasn’t five feet away from him.

I turned in the door and lifted my brows.

“Teddy still wants to go to that movie we were gonna see today. If I call him and his mom’s still up for takin’ us, can I go?” he asked.

Could my son go to a movie, taking him out of the house for a few hours on a day that Merry had off and I might be able to spend that time with him?

“Sure,” I answered.

“Awesome!” he near-on shouted. “I’ll call Teddy after I finish eating. If his mom needs it, can you drop me at their place?”

“Sure,” I repeated.

“You’re good with it, you can be lazy today and I can do it,” Merry offered.

Ethan’s eyes got big with excitement.

“Then it’s a pajama day for me,” I declared, though it wasn’t since I had to work that night, but at least during the day I could make it that way.

Unless Merry came back and my pajamas were history.

“You set it up, bud, I’ll drop you,” Merry said to Ethan, then looked at me. “I’ll come back.”

My knees got weak for another reason, and I shot him a very different kind of look before I took off to go brush my teeth.

I did this for the first time in my life, leaving two guys who meant the world to me in my kitchen.

Two of them.

A dream I’d never dared to dream.

And shit, that dream coming true made me feel warm and squishy.

* * * * *

I was still in my pajamas.

I was also on my knees.

Merry was in his jeans, his shirt, but he was sitting on the side of my bed with me kneeling between his legs.

And I’d finally got my mouth around his dick.

My kid was at a movie. Merry had dropped him off.

Then he came back to me.

His cock was wide, Jesus, and the veins protruding, catching against my tongue, making me want to trail the tip along them (something I did, repeatedly), the head thick and broad. Amazing.

I couldn’t take him all—he more than filled me—but that didn’t mean I didn’t try.

I did.

I gave it my all.

And then kept giving.

Honestly? I didn’t know who liked it more, Merry getting his dick sucked or me giving it my all, trying to take him deep, hearing the noises I was making him make, feeling his powerful body tense around me.

I felt his hand on my head shift, so his fingers clenched in my hair as he bit out, “Christ, Cherie.”

I took him as far as he’d go and lifted my eyes to his.

His hungry gaze was on me, and the instant he got mine, his started burning.

“Fuck me,” he growled.

I slid him out and lifted up, beyond ready, whispering, “Okay.”

He was ready too. I knew when he shifted immediately, eyes still on me, hand going to the back of his jeans as I yanked my pajama shorts and panties down.

He was still rolling the condom on when I climbed up, knee to the bed, swinging the other leg over.

He had himself ready for me, one hand guiding his cock, the other hand sliding along my side to my back and lower until he cupped my ass.

I felt him where I needed him and drove down, taking him completely.

I watched his head drop back, the cords of the muscles at his neck straining, the column of his throat bared.

Right there. That was mine. All for me.

I went in.

Trailing my mouth along something I’d wanted for so long, it was not funny, while riding the cock of a man I’d wanted so badly, it was scary, all this on my bed in my house, I felt my pussy start convulsing.

Merry felt it too (obviously) and righted his head, dislodging my mouth from his throat, his free hand coming up to grip my hair.

“Do not come,” he ordered.

“Okay,” I breathed, moving, doing it fast, taking him deep, slamming down on him hard.

“Cherie.” His tone was thick with sex and warning. “Do not fuckin’ come.”

God, that pushed me closer.

“You might hafta ride this one out when I’m done, baby,” I gasped, getting closer.

“Slow it down,” he growled.

That only made me speed it up.

“Fuck,” he grunted, watching me take him. Then his hand in my hair slid to the back of my neck and curled around firm, just as his hand at my ass moved so he could circle my waist with his arm.

Having a hold on me, he held fast and stayed me before a downward glide, so I just had the tip.

Torture.

“Merry,” I whispered, my voice needy.

“Be a good girl,” he ordered.

Fuck, seriously.

“Merry.” That was pleading.

“Wanna watch you fuck me like I got off watchin’ you blow me,” he shared gruffly. “So slow it down.”

I bit my lip, straining against his hold.

“You gonna be my good girl?” he asked.

His words and, well…everything pushed me closer and my entire body tightened, fighting to drive him deep.

Something changed in his eyes that sent me spiraling.

“You’re gonna be bad,” he whispered.

“Baby, please.”

He held me at my neck, but his arm went away from my waist.

I thought he was letting me loose.

He wasn’t.

His hand landed on my bare ass and the sound of the smack rent through the room as it scored straight from my ass right to my clit.

Oh yeah. I liked it like that.

“Gonna be good?” he asked.

“No,” I whispered.

He gave me what I wanted and spanked me again.

My thighs jerked, my eyes stayed locked to his, and my clit started buzzing.

“Gonna be good?” he repeated.

I shook my head.

He spanked me.

Fuck…yes.

“My brown-eyed girl likes to be bad,” he murmured, his heated eyes now on my mouth.

I licked my lips.

His hand landed on my ass.

“Merry,” I breathed.

His fingers at my neck grew light and he ground out, “Fuck me, baby.”

I fucked him. Fuck yes, I fucked him hard and fast, coming on the third stroke, the orgasm so huge, I started bucking, winding my arms around his shoulders, clenching my fist in his hair, ramming down on his big, thick cock.

“Merry.” It was a near cry as the orgasm engulfed me.

My head shot back, my back arching, and my body kept moving, partially me, partially Merry’s arm again around my waist, slamming me down.

I heard his noises as I rode out my orgasm, driving deep until finally his arm around me tightened, keeping me down, full of him, and he buried his face in my tank at my breasts and groaned as his body shuddered under me.

I dropped my head so my lips were at his hair and allowed my climax to leave slow, sliding out of me while I sat on Merry’s big dick and held him to me.

I only moved my head when he moved his, trailing his lips up my chest, my neck, my jaw. Both his hands moved as his head did, coming up to rest on either side of my head.

He tipped me down and I thought he’d take my mouth, but he didn’t.

He stared into my eyes, not moving.

I read what was in his gaze.

He liked that. He liked me being his good girl. He liked me being bad. He liked that we had that. He liked that I got off on it. He liked that I gave it freely. He liked that he could take it from me. He liked we were right there, my ass red, his cock buried inside me, as close as we could get in so many ways, him and me.

On this thought and the fact I liked it too, totally, both his thumbs slid out and he traced my cheekbones.

“Leavin’ you,” he whispered, and I felt every inch of me lock. But Merry didn’t waste any time sharing he wasn’t taking himself away. “You got less than an hour, honey. Shower. Get dressed. I got your pussy all over my jeans. Gonna go home, hit the shower. Change. Be back and I’m takin’ you to Frank’s for lunch.”

I was still full of waffles.

I would eat three of Frank’s fried tenderloin sandwiches to get what Merry was giving me.

He was not fucking around. Date. Meet the kid. Show nearly the entirety of the ’burg he was with me by strolling into a Brownsburg Bulldogs home game, holding my hand.

Now taking me to Frank’s so the rest of that entirety of the ’burg would see it or talk about it, and the fullness of that would go beyond since they’d eventually (but soon) hear about it.

I slid both my hands to the sides of his neck, but I didn’t say anything.

“Get you home by the time your kid gets back,” he finished.

I nodded.

His gaze dropped then lifted.

“Good with your mouth,” he muttered.

I gave his neck a squeeze and said nothing.

“Don’t know which I prefer—my good girl or when she’s bad.”

I felt my lips curl up as my eyelids lowered.

He didn’t miss it.

“She likes to be bad,” he said softly and approvingly. “Gonna test that, Cherie.”

I again made no verbal reply, but he felt my shiver and that was when his lips curled up.

His hands left my head so he could wrap his arms around me as he declared, “You’re right.”

Finally, I spoke.

“About what?”

“This is workin’ great.”

I could actually feel myself melting in his arms, and I knew it was melting even though I’d never done anything like that in my entire life.

“Merry,” I whispered.

“You’re all I said you were and you give great head?” His lip curl turned into a cocky smile. “Definitely workin’ great.”

I sighed in fake annoyance. “A man and his blowjobs.”

“Babe, the act? Awesome,” he stated. “You grabbin’ my hand practically before I could get in your door and draggin’ me to your bedroom so you could shove me on your bed and get your mouth on my dick?” His hold on me tightened slightly. “Awesome.”

“You have a great cock,” I shared.

His hips shifted and his smile didn’t get any less cocky. “It likes you too.”

“Thank God,” I muttered.

He kept smiling, but he did it gently pulling me off him.

He put me on my feet as he straightened from the bed.

“Gonna use your john, then I’m gonna go,” he said. “After that, less than an hour, Cher.”

I nodded.

“Dig Ethan, like spendin’ time with him. But I want my good girl and my bad one all to me again. While I’m away, want you to think on finding us that time and soon, you hear me?”

I nodded again, back to feeling warm and squishy because he was wasting no time letting me know he wanted more of me.

He shifted and I knew he was adjusting his jeans even as he ordered, “Now kiss me.”

I got up on my toes, leaned in, hands to his chest, head tipped back, and I kissed my guy.

It was wet but short.

When he was done, he bent, nabbed my pajama shorts and panties, and handed them to me.

But after I put them on and before he walked out of my room, he bent to touch his lips to my nose.

God.

Merry.

“Less than an hour,” he said softly, then I watched him walk away.

I did it thinking that was mine. All that tall, lean handsomeness. His big dick. Him making my son (and me) waffles. Him wanting my ass in a booth with him at Frank’s so he could show the whole ’burg he was claiming me.

That was all mine.

Forty whole hours, that had been mine.

And I hadn’t fucked it up.

A record.

A record I was going to keep breaking.

Maybe for eternity.

* * * * *

Garrett

Garrett’s phone started ringing before he let himself in his apartment after taking Cher out to lunch at Frank’s, going back to her place and hanging on her couch (mostly making out) until her kid got home, then hanging with Ethan and her until she had to start getting ready for work.

He left her to it.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t hitting J&J’s later that night for a drink.

He pulled his phone out on that thought, doing it smiling.

He took the call still smiling.

“Yo, Rocky,” he greeted his sister.

“So, let me see,” she said in his ear. “Swank’s Thursday night. A freaking Bulldogs game on Friday. Frank’s four hours ago.”

He tossed his keys on the bar and started to shrug out of his jacket. “Apparently, ’burg’s buzzing.”

“‘Buzzing’ is not the word for it. They haven’t had anything this juicy since…” she trailed off, probably trying to think about when they’d had something that juicy.

But he already knew. “Since you and Tanner sorted your shit.”

“Well, really, since Dusty got shot by that kid, but that isn’t the good kind of juicy that this is,” she replied, but her voice turned hesitant when she asked, “It is, isn’t it, Merry? You and Cher, it’s the good kind of juicy, right?”

“I like her, honey,” he shared. “Like her, her kid is great. So yeah, it’s the good kind of juicy.”

She was silent a moment before she said, “I’m glad.” More hesitant when she asked, “Mia?”

“Mia’s done.”

Even though he gave her that firm, he knew she was chewing on it because she was silent again.

She broke it, saying, “I think that’s good. Cher…she’s a fighter. Mia…not so much.”

She got it.

Rocky got it better than anybody.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“So, you bringing her over to meet your niece, say, tomorrow?”

He nearly burst out laughing. “She already knows Cecelia…and you. But I get you. Though, what I get, still gotta tell you that we had our first date two days ago, Raquel.”

She amended her question.

“So, you bringing her over to meet your niece next weekend, but you’re getting your ass over here tomorrow before CeeCee forgets what her uncle looks like?”

She wanted him to come and spend time with her daughter.

She wanted more for him to come and spend time with his sister so she could see for herself that he was edging toward happy.

He grinned. “I’ll come ’round. Catch a game. Remind that baby girl I exist.”

“That’d be good.”

“And I’ll talk to Cher. We’ve jumped in with both feet. Maybe it’d be good we take some time to get used to the waters we’re in for a while before we hit more rapids.”

“I hear that.”

And again, she got it. She and Tanner had hit so much white water, it was a wonder they weren’t crushed against the rocks.

They weren’t and Garrett was pleased as all hell they’d finally hit smooth.

“Have a feeling you’ll be meeting her and Ethan in a different way soon, though,” he told her.

“That’d make me happy.”

What would make his sister happy was knowing her brother was happy.

And he was happy. Cher putting on that dress for him. Cher giving him all she gave in the variety of ways she gave it the last two days. Seeing all she made in her son—funny like her, a smartass in a good way like her, a scrapper who doesn’t take shit just like Cherie, and loyal, so fucking loyal, it was beautiful.

Yeah.

Garrett was happy.

He just hoped he had it in him this time not to turn it to shit.

“Right, seein’ as I got plans tomorrow to spend time with my niece, I’m gonna spend some time with my girl while she’s at work,” he started. “Lettin’ you go so I can get at least fifteen minutes of some football in so I don’t start gettin’ the shakes before I get behind the wheel of a vehicle.”

“Best let you do that,” she muttered.

“Rocky?” he called.

“Yeah, Merry?”

“Love my little sister,” he said.

That got him silence again before she gave it back. “And love my big brother. See you tomorrow, Merry.”

“See you then, honey.”

They disconnected.

He’d thrown his phone on the bar and was heading toward his couch when a loud banging came at the door.

He hadn’t been home for ten minutes, but he knew from the insistent sound, not to mention the ’burg buzzing, who was standing outside on the landing.

He didn’t want to head that way, but he did because it had to happen eventually. He reckoned he might as well get that ball rolling now.

He checked the peephole and saw he was right because outside was a woman who was pissed for what Garrett considered no reason, which made him pissed, even though he knew he should keep a lock on it.

He didn’t.

He opened the door.

“What? Do you have cameras on me?” he asked, knowing that was not the way to lead, but he was angry Mia was not getting his message and he was not a big fan of her banging on his door.

He wasn’t surprised when she shoved in, taking two strides into the room before turning on him.

She threw out her hands, face full of rage. “Are you serious with this shit, Merry?”

He closed the door, using that time to pull himself together, and turned to her. “We gotta talk.”

“Yeah.” She took those two steps back to him and shoved his chest with one hand, doing it hard enough, his shoulder rocked back. “We fucking do.”

He wasn’t big on her shoving him either.

“Take a breath,” he demanded, forcing his voice to quiet just as he was forcing himself to remain calm and not lose it.

“I don’t need to take a breath. I cannot believe you’re humiliating me this way,” she snapped.

They weren’t going to do this.

Not now, not ever if it came out angry.

“This is not the time or the place,” he stated. “Like I said, we gotta talk. But it’s not happenin’ now when you’re pissed and I’m not feelin’ like bein’ pushed into a bad mood.”

“Well, fuck that,” she bit out, shoving him again, this time with both hands so his whole torso swung back.

He took a step to the side and warned, “Watch your hands, Mia. I don’t want them on me again.”

She tipped her head to the side. “You don’t? Oh. I would guess you don’t, considering you got the good stuff direct from a professional all weekend.”

He took a deliberate step away from her before he purposefully locked his body.

After he did this, he dragged in a breath that was supposed to be deep and calming, but it came in shallow and did not one thing to ease the fury he felt building.

“Watch your mouth,” he whispered.

“Fuck you,” she shot back. “Swank’s was bad enough. Swank’s. That woman and you at fucking Swank’s. But a football game? You took her to a fucking football game? In the ’burg? For everyone to see?”

“You need to leave. Now,” he returned. “I calm down, you calm down, we’ll talk.”

“About what?” she asked. “How you’re testing me? How many tests do I have to pass, Merry? I mean, you shit all over our marriage. You shit all over our future. Then you shit all over me for years. And now you’re dating the town slut, rubbing that in my face when—”

He advanced, she retreated, and neither stopped doing it until he had her pinned against the living room wall.

He didn’t touch her and kept his distance, but she felt him. He knew she knew she’d pushed too far. He knew this because she pressed against the wall and didn’t move.

“You ever fuckin’ talk to my face or I even hear you spewed shit like that about Cher again, Mia, so help me God, the over we’re already over will be history. You won’t even be a memory, good or bad. I’ll erase you so completely, I see your fuckin’ face, you’ll think I have no clue who you are.”

“Merry,” she breathed, eyes big, his name coming out pained.

“I wanted to sit down and talk about this, but you’re here and you’re like you are, which means I’m not big on seein’ you ever again, so this is happenin’ now,” he declared.

Then he gave it to her.

“I fucked up. I fucked us up. You’re right. I shit all over our marriage. I did that and I own that. It sucks I hurt you because…once, I loved you. Once, you meant everything to me. But I was fucked in the head. I fucked us up because I was terrified of what it would do to you if somethin’ happened to me and you lost me. I’ve felt that loss and know it’s an empty that never gets filled and I didn’t want that for you. I should have talked that out with you. I should have worked that out with you. I didn’t. And that was my fuckup.”

“I—”

He didn’t even let her get started.

“I’ve had a chance to think and as shit as that was, me doin’ that to you, and as shit as it was, me continuing to fuck you even after I made us over, you didn’t have it in you to deal. You don’t have it in you to deal. You lost me in a way you could’ve gotten me back. You knew it, fuckin’ everyone knew it, but you didn’t do it. So I fucked up. You fucked up. We’re even and we’re movin’ on.”

“But I want us—”

“I don’t give a fuck what you want, Mia. I made this plain. I wanted us to sort our shit so we could move on without it fuckin’ up the memory of what we had. I told you we were over. I start somethin’ important with a woman who means a good fuckin’ deal to me and you come to my home, shovin’ me and gettin’ in my face, sayin’ jacked shit about that woman. So now that memory is gonna stay fucked. And not because I made it that way.” He lifted a hand and jabbed a finger toward her face. “You did.”

He stepped back and to the side but kept his eyes locked to her.

“Now get the fuck outta my house and do not ever come back. We are done, Mia.”

She didn’t move an inch, not even her gaze from his.

“I love you,” she whispered.

The last five years, he’d lived for her to say those words.

Now they meant nothing.

He shook his head.

She had no clue.

“Love is facing head on somethin’ that threatens it and not bending, sure as fuck not breaking, when that thing leans on you to let go. You don’t have that. In your way, I know you loved me. My way of lovin’ you was just as fucked up. We screwed that up so badly, there’s no goin’ back. At this point, the best we got is not jackin’ our shit again with someone else. I got every intention of not makin’ that same mistake twice with what I’m starting with a good woman who means somethin’ to me. I’m pissed as hell at you right now, but I hope you find you got it in you to do the same with your man. The one thing I’m certain about is that there’s nothin’ left between you and me.”

“I refuse to believe you mean that,” she replied earnestly.

He stared at her.

Yeah, she had no clue.

And at that point, he had no options, so he put his hands on his hips as he looked to the floor.

“Merry,” she called.

He lifted his head. “Get out.”

“But…Merry—”

He leaned her way and clipped, “Get…the fuck…out.”

She studied him, and when his body shifted, she said quickly, “Maybe we should find a time to talk when we’ve both calmed down.”

“Fuckin’ shit,” he muttered and moved, taking the only option she was giving him.

He went to his jacket and shrugged it on. He grabbed his phone, shoved it in his pocket, and nabbed his keys.

He then went to the door and looked back to his ex-wife, who had only moved a few feet from the wall.

“I’m goin’ out,” he shared. “I don’t got much I give a shit about, though it’d suck havin’ to buy a new TV. Now you can either get out so I can lock up and keep that TV, or you can stay until you finally catch my drift. All I ask is you close the door. If you’re here when I come back, I’ll go to a hotel. What I am not gonna do is spend more time with you. You got five seconds. What’s it gonna be?”

“Merry, you can’t just…”

She kept talking, but Garrett didn’t listen.

He counted to five.

Then he walked out, closing the door behind him while Mia was still talking.

* * * * *

Garrett got fast food for dinner, trying to calm down before he hit J&J’s.

He would find he didn’t succeed when he opened the door, his eyes going behind the bar to see Cher there with Jack. She took one look at him and her face shifted from the grin that was starting into a freeze.

She began walking down the bar.

He moved in, taking it in.

It was relatively early on a Saturday night, but the place was in full swing. Darryl was there and Dee was working the floor.

Jack and Cher had the bar.

But the stools at the end were all empty, waiting for the men who usually claimed them. None of them were there mostly because all of them had women they preferred to be with on a Saturday night, so they wouldn’t be at a bar unless their women were with them.

Except Merry.

Like Colt, his woman worked there.

He hit a stool and she was right in front of him.

He barely had his ass on the seat before she remarked, “I’d say this was a nice surprise except you look like you wanna kill somebody.”

“Mia’s heard about us.”

She stared at him before she turned and reached to the top-shelf whisky.

Yeah, they knew each other. This wasn’t just starting out. They’d laid the foundation. They’d just added fucking fantastic sex and expensive dinners and him getting more of Cher’s smart mouth.

And her sweet.

“Baby, aim lower. I got a taste for the good stuff, but my budget’s bein’ revised,” he said.

He saw her body jolt, she gave him a look over her shoulder, then she reached lower.

As she poured him his drink, he took in her tight red top, her ass in her jeans, and her high heels. Finally, he felt himself calming.

“Good news is, the talk me and her had to have is done,” he shared.

She set the bottle aside and leaned in to her forearms. “Yeah?”

“Not the way I wanted it to go,” he said.

When he took a sip of whisky and didn’t elucidate, she prompted, “Talk to me, gorgeous.”

Garrett shrugged slightly.

“Said what I had to say,” he told her. “Seein’ as she came in pissed as all hell, thinkin’ me goin’ out with you was me testin’ her, not sure she heard. She said a few words. I returned a fuckuva lot more. Not thinkin’ she got me seein’ as I told her to get her ass out, but she didn’t leave, so I did. She might still be at my place. Or, alternately, she left, leavin’ my pad wide open and I’ll get home later to find I need to go out and buy a new TV.”

As he spoke, he watched her eyes get big, and when he was done, she asked, “You left her there?”

“Yeah. Closed the door on her, she was still talkin’.”

“Holy shit,” she whispered.

“She wouldn’t leave and I was done, so I had no choice.”

Her lips twitched.

He might be calming, but he found not one thing funny.

“It wasn’t the way I wanted it to go, Cher,” he reminded her.

“You walked out with your ex-wife in your place,” she stated.

“Couldn’t strong-arm the bitch,” he pointed out. “She was okay with shovin’ me, but man’s any man at all, he’s got it in him to check it even if he’s itchin’ to shove back.”

Her lips were no longer twitching.

“She shoved you?”

“Twice.”

He saw that he might be calming, but Cher was not.

“You’re fucking shitting me,” she spat.

No, she was not calming, and as cute as she looked, preparing to turn into a hellcat for him, it was time to focus on calming her.

“It’s done. May take a while, but if the words don’t sink in, my actions will. Only thing I gotta worry about now is hittin’ my place later and findin’ it cleaned out. I got a plan to take my girl’s boy out with her and her mom to celebrate his birthday at Swank’s. Won’t be able to do that if I gotta drop two large on a TV.”

That did it. All the anger vanished when he talked about taking Ethan to Swank’s for his birthday.

But her lips parted when he talked about dropping two grand on a television.

“Two large?” she asked, her eyebrows going up.

“Gotta get a new one, not gonna fuck around. Trade up. Eighty inches.”

“Your media center won’t fit an eighty-inch TV,” she noted.

“Then I’ll also have to buy a new media center.”

She stared.

Then she busted out laughing.

And that was it.

All that he needed.

Cher was laughing.

Garrett was calm.

He reached out and nabbed her hand.

She didn’t pull away.

More for the ’burg to chew on and he felt the eyes. He knew that he and Cher were the latest meal.

He didn’t care. And even if he did, he’d care less when her hand latched on to his and she leaned deep across the bar.

“Silver lining, gorgeous, your to-do list is one lighter,” she said, still laughing.