Hormotional

by K. S. Adkins

  This woman required diligence and possibly restraints because twice she’d tried canceling via text already.

  Her reasons were adorable and hilarious.

  Too bad I refused to give up and had no issues using guilt to my advantage.

  And fucking finally, she said yes.

  So, here I was, calling her kid for advice on dating his mother.

  Luckily, he wanted me for his mom and wasn’t shy about saying so. This meant a lot. The kid was a fountain of information, too. According to him, she’s down for anything. She was down for fucking, obviously… but I didn’t say this because no matter how tight he was with his mom, I wasn’t sharing that. I knew she was simple, down to earth, but all this meant was I could take her anywhere. I just didn’t know where that should be. Detroit was a big place with a lot of joints to eat at. But Ram sensed I sucked at courting the woman who birthed him and gave me several decent places to choose from.

  Hiring him was smart, real smart. He was banging out jobs like I planned to bang his mom. This freed up a lot of my time—time I needed to focus on Lizzy, in Lizzy, on top of Lizzy. Jesus, I was acting like a horny teenager…

  While I narrowed down places to take her, I was also watching her live inside the garage. Hats off to Ram because his audio was top notch, possibly even better than mine. Zero static or interference, which was amazing since concrete walls are a tech’s worst nightmare. But the rigging inside the car was fucking clutch.

  Those cameras caught everything.

  To say the woman worked hard would be a lie. Not only did she overwork herself, but swear to Christ, it was clear she loved every minute of it, too. Her guys busted their asses to keep up. Lincoln, Benz, and Diesel were totally in tune with her. Each had shady pasts, but since joining her years ago appeared to stay clean. I hoped, for her sake, they were as squeaky as they pretended to be because she loved those guys. Those guys loved her and Ram. Seeing them do time would crush her. And that’s if she wasn’t doing time right along with them.

  Shit, I still had a date to plan. Wherever I took her needed to be someplace where we could talk, where I could pry without her knowing I was prying. I needed evidence to clear her name. Didn’t matter I knew she was innocent. The feds knew too, yet they didn’t care. To close this case, they would make an example out of her to flush the rest out.

  It’s how our system worked.

  They needed proof, they needed the supplier, and I was hired to get it. I was hired to befriend Elizabeth Hudson and get inside her world. Getting in her pants wasn’t in the contract, but I got there just the same and wanted back as soon as possible.

  How did I get the contract? By being one of them until I couldn’t stand it anymore. Once my reputation was established, I branched out on my own, opening Safe & Sound Security years ago—before Google, spyware apps, and smart phones. My skills were old-school, honed, and still worked efficiently even in modern times. We tend to focus on what people say and less often on what they do. With nearly thirty years under my belt, I was well-versed in reading people.

  With Ram set for the week, I closed up and headed to the garage early because I wanted to meet her crew. I needed them to get to know me. Used to seeing me around. I also knew I needed to earn their trust before she’d even consider giving me hers. Not wanting to miss anything, I told myself it was to clear her name not to hear her say mine. I synched my truck to my phone and listened as I drove.

  What I heard on my way over had me horny, pissed off, amused, and horny again.

  Lincoln was a convicted felon and the leader of the group. Benz spent his youth in and out of the system until Lizzy gave him a shot. And Diesel, he had been charged with manslaughter but it didn’t stick. I supposed your witnesses disappearing helped with that. Where Lincoln led, Benz followed. Diesel, who was the loudest, oddly enough, lived a quiet life.

  Since I couldn’t see the guys but knew their backgrounds, I quickly learned by voice who was who.

  So, when Lincoln said, “A date? A goddamn date? With who?”

  It was Lizzy who said, “Luke Temple.”

  “Ram’s boss?” This from Diesel, who was laughing. “You’re really fucking him so Ram gets a promotion?”

  What in the fuck?

  “Jesus,” she laughed. “No. It’s just…”

  “It’s just what?” And this had to be Benz. Waiting on her answer had me holding my breath. I pulled my fucking truck over so I wouldn’t kill anyone.

  “He told me I was gorgeous and–”

  “You are, Lizzy,” Diesel growled. “Fuck, everyone tells you so, do you not listen?”

  “It’s not that he said it,” she snapped. “It’s the way he said it.”

  “Okay, wait,” Lincoln said, shutting the group down. “That don’t hold weight. The biker said you were hot as fuck.”

  The biker? What biker?

  “Yeah, and the bartender said, and I quote, ‘stellar piece of ass’.” Lincoln again.

  Bartender? What bartender?

  “What about the cop?” Benz asked. “He said you were so pretty it hurt to look at you.”

  A fucking cop? Shit. She certainly didn’t discriminate.

  “Again, it’s the way he said it,” she tried. “Look, you don’t have to get it, just be cool about it, okay? Because I’m freaking out here. He’s Ram’s boss! And it’s a date. I even tried canceling twice. I’m not ready for this…”

  “Shit, is it your hormones?” Lincoln asked and though no words were spoken I heard a tool hit the wall.

  “I like him, all right!” she shouted, and I heard all three gasp while I, in the seat of my truck, yelled fuck yeah.

  “Jesus fuck,” Diesel boomed.

  “He hurts you, I kill him,” Lincoln vowed, and I heard the truth behind it.

  “Boss,” Benz said gently. “’Bout fucking time.”

  “Get back to work, you lazy asses. I have to go change into girl clothes.”

  “Hey, Lizzy,” Lincoln said low. “You know we were kidding about the promotion, right?”

  “Do you really think I’d sleep with someone for the sake of a pay increase?”

  “For Ram, yeah,” Diesel offered.

  “When a mother says she’ll do anything for her son I would hope she draws the line at fucking his employer. Maybe I like his company. Maybe he’s simply a good guy. Or maybe, I don’t know, call me crazy…I see something here.”

  “You don’t know him, Lizzy,” Lincoln pushed. “Who is this guy, really? Do you even know?”

  “She wants the fucking chance,” Benz chimed in. “It’s a date, not a goddamn marriage proposal.”

  “I don’t like it,” Lincoln objected. “I don’t like the unknown.”

  “Our little girl is growing up,” Diesel said, and I could hear the mock tears in his voice.

  “Have fun tonight, Lizzy,” Benz said sincerely. “You deserve it. And ignore, Lincoln. He’s hormotional.”

  “Thanks, guys,” she said happily and these men would find out quickly I liked Lizzy happy.

  With the conversation over, I blazed back into traffic to meet the guys while she was upstairs.

  If I didn’t have their support, I was dead in the water.

  Hitting the liquor store, I picked up four cigars and a shit load of whiskey.

  Two glasses of wine hadn’t helped my nerves. Music wasn’t helping either. No matter what I did to calm myself backfired. I was flashing constantly and had reapplied my makeup twice. My armpits had ruined two blouses, and I swear to God I was beyond bloated. Like two sizes larger bloated. My fucking back was even killing me. My skin felt dry, and I was feeling everything but pretty.

  And I was going on a date. With Luke.

  If we had dates after this, I was strongly considering going to see my gyno for my treatment options. Menopause, I decided, was soupy. Because that’s how I felt all the damn time. Gross.

  Though I swore I could fight it out naturally
, I wasn’t so sure I was succeeding. And because of the cancer, I wasn’t a candidate for traditional hormone therapy, which meant I would have to seek out alternative medicines. Most days I managed it fine, but I wanted Luke to see me as more than a hot mess.

  So yes, I would look into some sort of help.

  But that help wasn’t coming today, so I had to deal.

  I now was down to one hour before he picked me up. I had no idea where we were going or how to dress for it, so I went with my little black dress and heels. Cleavage was out, ass looked good, but my hair… I hated to do it, but I was going to have to wear it up. Rubber band in hand, I managed a messy bun and checked my makeup. It was still there. Thank God.

  Moving on, I spritzed myself with some Dolce and checked my teeth.

  What was I forgetting?

  Shit.

  Deodorant.

  Putting on an extra layer, I dropped it in my bag for when I sweated through the current one.

  God, it wasn’t too long ago when my biggest concern was starting my period.

  Now it was praying I didn’t cause mass murder or pee my pants.

  Menopausal problems…

  The only thing left to do was see what the guys thought. Hitting the steps, I turned to open the door to the garage only to stop dead when I saw Luke sitting on a stool chatting with all three. When the door closed behind me, all eyes turn to me. While the guys whistled, Luke stood, determination filling his features as he closed the distance between us to kiss me. It wasn’t chaste, it was territorial. I told myself not to like it, and I didn’t—I loved it.

  What I loved even more was he came early.

  And he brought booze.

  Booze I could taste on his lips.

  Fuck, Luke wanted to win my guys over.

  And that was awesome.

  Most people looked at my guys and assumed the worst.

  But not him.

  Forget being in over my head, I was drowning and didn’t even care.

  “Baby,” he groaned against my lips. “You in a dress. I’m hard.”

  “Really?”

  “Wouldn’t lie to you about that.”

  “You’re early, and I see you’ve met my guys.” I smiled in earnest.

  “I met your guys.”

  “Have you been here long?”

  “Just a drink, Lizzy.”

  “Okay. Ready to go?”

  “No,” he said, kissing me again. “I’d rather drag you upstairs and order in, but we have reservations. Did you know you can do that shit online now?”

  “Really?” I asked because I didn’t date to know these things, but thought it was cool just the same.

  Looking around Luke at the guys, who by the way were in total shock, I asked them to lock up. When Luke took my hand, I let him. We were almost at the door when Lincoln called out, “Boss?”

  Turning, I replied, “Yeah?”

  “You forgot your shoes.”

  Looking at my bare feet, I grunted, “Shit. Be right back.”

  I scaled the steps in record time. Snagging my heels, I decided to bring them with me and put them on in Luke’s truck. Kissing Lincoln on the cheek, I whispered, “Thanks for the save.”

  “Remember what I said, Lizzy.”

  Rolling my eyes, I turned back around and prompted Luke to exit. “What did he say?” he asked while opening his truck door for me.

  “That if you hurt me, he’ll kill you.”

  Getting in my space, Luke spans my waist, and vowed gruffly, “I hurt you, I’ll kill myself.”

  What did I say to that? Choosing to say nothing, I watched him close my door, climb in on his side, and back out of the lot. I laughed when I saw two of my guys watching from the bay doors with smiles on their faces. Lincoln was the only one who looked pissed.

  Our reservation was at Santorini Estiatorio. I’d never been here, but it was gorgeous and a great choice. I was more of a dive bar, jukebox kind of woman, but this…this was clutch. The atmosphere, the people around us, and the drinks were perfect, but nothing trumped the company. Sitting across from Luke, I didn’t care what we ate as long as he kept talking.

  An hour in, I found out he started his business seventeen years ago after serving in the Army on the intelligence side. His divorce was nasty, and he lost his ass financially. He also dropped the bomb that I was the first woman since his divorce. Which meant he went without sex for years. I focused on that much longer than I should have. First, because he was looking at me like he owned me, and I didn’t see how it was possible so soon. And second, why? Sex can be just sex, I’m proof. I got by with casual sex forever. Going without for no good reason seemed criminal and well, wrong. Was he punishing himself? And why did I like he held out? Why was I feeling territorial?

  The wine.

  Definitely the wine.

  And the raging hormones.

  Between the two, I was screwed.

  Back in the conversation, he explained he was normally a lone wolf. But that he hired Ram because he needed young blood and a fresh perspective after his partner retired. He bragged about my son for a solid twenty minutes. Which, of course, steered the conversation toward my love life, or lack thereof.

  The food was served which gave me time to decide how to best dodge his questions, but I wasn’t doing too well with Luke’s large forearms balanced on the table. His dress shirt opened at the top, allowing his chest hair to peek out. His cologne was so amazing I wanted to toss the food and eat him. But what got me were his eyes and his smile.

  Luke’s natural ruggedness was officially my weakness.

  When he asked me about Ram’s dad again, I knew if I didn’t give him something he would never quit asking.

  Steeling myself for the talk I managed to avoid with every man I ever met, I exhaled hard before I started. “I met Jon at the garage, actually. His dad had bought him a Thunderbird and ran out of time to fix it. I took one look at his car and did it myself. Every day for months, Jon would come by after work and I’d teach him mechanics. I was a junior in high school, and he’d graduated a year prior. We fell in love like kids do, hard and recklessly. I got pregnant right away, and his parents disowned him. My parents were amazing, stepping up and supporting us both. We moved into my place above the garage. We had Ram, life was good. Hard but good. I quit school. I worked full-time at the shop, and when he started doing shit he shouldn’t, I made it clear he stop or he was out.” Taking a deep sip of my wine, I swallowed before I continued. “I thought he beat the dark back, but when Ram was two, I was making him dinner when four men kicked in my door. I grabbed my son, Jon stood in front of me. They wanted their money, their product. When Jon said he didn’t have it but would get it, they shot him point-blank. I assumed we were next. But then one apologized to me for Jon being a piece of shit; I didn’t know what to say. To me, Jon wasn’t a piece of shit, he was just mine. Another guy said they wouldn’t bother me as long as I never said shit. To protect Ram, I didn’t.”

  “Lizzy,” Luke said, painfully aware this conversation sucked for me.

  “Honestly,” I continued, “I was so terrified I wouldn’t have been able to ID them anyway. The only thing I remember was Ram screaming, and Jon dead on the floor. I called the police, told them it was a break in gone wrong, which wasn’t a lie, and watched them bag Jon while Ram’s dinner cooled on the stove.”

  “Fuck,” he said and moved from his chair to sit right next to me. Though I searched for the prickling sensation that normally came with talking about that night, with Luke by my side it was totally absent. I was too into being here with him to look into why the absence didn’t bother me. Wanting this over with so we could have a normal date, I explained, “I was young, too young, to raise a son on my own, but I did it. Somehow, I did it. And the guys played a big part in that.”

  “Your parents?”

  “Are alive and well in Arizona. Dad gave me the business when I was seventeen years old, and they
were in an RV the next day. They came back for a bit, but I couldn’t ask them to postpone their dreams for us. Because they would have, and I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself. They love Ram, but he’s mine. I’m his mother and he was my responsibility. After what happened to Jon, it was easy to put distance between myself and the world. All these years I’ve kept to myself because it was easier that way.”

  When Luke just sat there with a tick in his jaw, I felt my body heat like a furnace and whispered, “I ruined our first date. I’m sorry.”

  Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say.

  I was in too deep.

  I knew it and did not give one fuck.

  I was determined to go even deeper. I wanted to sink into the abyss.

  I felt Lizzy’s pain, her loneliness, and her determination never to be hurt again.

  I’d been briefed on her background months ago, but reading it was one thing, hearing it another.

  While they knew a lot, they didn’t know everything.

  A file couldn’t describe an individual’s feelings.

  They didn’t know for a reason. The same reason I wasn’t supposed to know. It made shit personal.

  Picturing her as a young mother…

  She was a fucking kid with a baby, had no idea what the fuck was happening, and did what she needed to do to protect her son. She spent so much time and effort doing this, she closed herself off to love.

  She had no idea of the danger surrounding her either. Elizabeth Hudson was literally walking around in the dark.

  This was her old man’s fault. Even from the grave he left her unprotected.

  Food, drink, and prying eyes forgotten, I pull her to me not caring who saw.

  The way she rested her hands on my lap did something to me. It was an act of trust, it was Lizzy reaching out.

  The woman had beautiful hands. Strong hands. Small, yet powerful.

  “Don’t ever apologize for being honest with me,” I commanded her. “When I ask a question I want the truth. You ever have shit on your mind, you hit me with it. I’ll handle it.”

  “But I—”

  “What did I just say?”