“Come on,” she says on a sexy sigh. “Let’s go learn about what to do when my cervix starts dilating.”
And down my dick goes again.
33
After a day full of profitable photo shoots that began with newborn portraits and ended with a whips and chains themed boudoir session, (holy opposite ends of the spectrum, Batman), I’m headed to The Cedar because my man told me to pop by when my day wrapped and we’d grab a bite. He texted me a while ago saying he had to have a brief meeting with a prospective beer distributor, but it wouldn’t take long and he could break away after.
I finished a little earlier than I thought, so I’ll have to hang around and wait for a little bit, but it’s no biggie. I’ve gotten to know the staff at the bar well enough that I won’t be too lonely.
When I arrive, I park my butt on an empty barstool and maneuver myself so that my boulder of a belly is tucked under the bar, the only way I can sit here comfortably these days. I’m pleasantly surprised at the sight before me which is Forrest and Colton behind the bar. Forrest appears to be calmly and patiently instructing Colton on some bartending basics as he gestures to a variety of different drink glasses lined up before them. Colton is nodding as he ties his new apron behind his waist, taking in every word.
“Hey guys,” I cheerfully greet them.
“Hey,” they answer back in unison, welcoming smiles on their faces. Forrest then points to a glass, and while I can’t hear everything he says over the bar chatter, he’s clearly giving Colton some kind of instruction. Colton deliberately picks up a glass and then the fountain hose when Forrest leans in and points to it, nodding in approval at Colton’s every move. I get a soft fuzzy thrill at the confidence I’ve seen slowly building in Colton over the last few months. He places a glass of soda water with ice, a lime, and a cherry in front of me like a total pro. “Thank you Colton,” I say, gladly taking it from him, although I don’t think the pride in my smile can match Forrest’s. I’m thinking he might have found his niche, taking other employees under his wing.
I take a grateful refreshing sip and pull out my phone to kill some time, letting them get back to their training session. I answer a text from Mayzie and answer a few emails requesting photo sessions and package orders, when I barely register a figure sitting down on the stool next to mine in my peripheral. I pay them no mind as I open my calendar app and schedule a couple of new appointments for next week.
“Well, well, well,” a disgustingly familiar voice comes from the newly occupied stool. My insides immediately turn into ice and every muscle in my body stiffens.
Sweet Lord, no. I knew my day was going too damn well.
“Annie,” he’s using his low, seductive voice, and it’s like Krueger nails on a chalkboard. “How are you?”
I still haven’t looked up from my phone. In fact, I take my sweet-ass time locking in my appointment to buy a few seconds, schooling my expression to one of ambivalence.
“Hey Nate,” I say casually with a bit of chill in my voice, looking up at him quickly before turning back to my phone. I haven’t shot any birds into pigs lately, or I could try again to annihilate Mayzie after that thirty-two-point word she sent me earlier. Anything to avoid making conversation with this toolbox.
“That’s it?” he pushes, his voice carrying heavy traces of wounded ego.
“Yeah, that’s it,” I respond, still not looking at him. Hell, even when I did look up at him I did it in such a quick acknowledgement that I didn’t even catalog what he looks like. Not that I picture him to look any different than he did a year ago. A little sorrier and more pathetic maybe…
He was a good looking guy once upon a time, but funny how when a person shows their true colors, they do nothing for their appearance but make themselves ugly.
“What’s the matter? Not happy to see me?” Nate prods again.
I let out a heavy sigh and finally look up at the bastard.
“I see you’re still too dim to pick up on subtle social cues, so fine, I’ll spell it out for you. No, not really.”
“Can I get you a drink or something man?” Forrest cuts in, standing directly in front of us, his expression hard and his tone screams order something or get out, but sure enough, the idiot beside me doesn’t pick up on it.
“Not just yet,” Nate answers, taking his time to tear his eyes away from me to address Forrest. “Actually, I’m from Black Wolf Brewery and I’m here to meet with your manager if you could let him know I’m here.”
Oh, fuck this cursed moment in my life.
“He can take his time though, I’ll happily entertain this lovely customer of yours while I wait,” Nate adds, like he’s the most charming thing anyone’s ever seen.
“Not necessary,” I clip out coldly. Ooh, necessary. Suck on that, Mayzie! I continue to tap my phone screen, keeping careful watch in my peripheral to see if any other seats open up.
I glance up at Forrest who I can tell is deliberately not showing any reaction. Instead, he nods at Colton before jerking his head in the direction of the back office. Colton nods back and swiftly makes his way to the back. I know what Forrest is doing; the look in his eyes told Colton to not only get Tyler, but to fill him in on what’s going on while he stays and keeps an eagle-eye on things here. I mentally high-five him for it.
“You sure about that?” Nate leans his crossed arms on the bar and cocks his head at me. “I mean, I don’t see anyone else here with you.” He makes a show of looking up and down the bar. “Looks to me like you’re all alone and could use some company.”
Holy shit, was he always this dumb?
I’m about to respond, when I feel it: Tyler’s eyes are on me. I can tell by the elating warmth I feel settling over my body and soothing my aggravated nerves. My theory is confirmed when I see Forrest exchange a knowing look with someone over my shoulder.
I turn my head to the douche and give him a tight smile, squinting my eyes as if the sight of him repulses me, because it does.
“I’m waiting for someone, and I’m doing just fine without your particular brand of company; the kind that makes my flesh crawl. So why don’t you stop depriving some poor village of its idiot and get lost?” I suggest in faux excitement, trying to get him on board with that being the best idea in the world.
“Sure you are,” the moron doesn’t even blink, his tone suggesting he doesn’t believe me. “And someone still seems a little bitter about how we ended things.”
I roll my eyes to the ceiling and twist my mouth like I’m thinking hard and then tell him, “Mmm… no. I’m pretty happy with how things ended - you know, with me slamming my knee into your crotch? I mean, it was hard to aim for, but by the way you fell over and cried like a little girl who dropped her Barbie down a sewer drain, I think I got it.”
While he tries ever so hard to play it cool, I can see a red flush start to creep up from the collar of Nate’s lame-ass polo shirt. He tries to give a carefree smile as he shakes his head.
“See? Still bitter as fuck and holding onto shit. That really stayed with you huh?” he asks, his face trying to look smug while it assesses mine.
I let out a humorless laugh. “Actually, before you sat your pathetic ass down on that stool there, I had pretty much forgotten you existed.”
“Like that could ever happen,” he scoffs. “We were together two years. I don’t think you just forget that.”
“Oh, believe it you poor thing. It can happen.”
“I don’t know, I think it’d be pretty hard without someone to get you over it, which you clearly don’t have. Like I said… alone in a bar. Doesn’t exactly scream being in a happy relationship.”
“Neither does badgering your ex because you clearly have nothing else going for you,” I retort as I feel Tyler close in at my side.
I’m just wrapping up the schedule on my computer when Colton leans both hands on the door frame and leans into my office.
“You expecting a beer distributor from Black Wolf, boss?”
“Yeah, is he here?” I ask, looking at my watch and seeing that it’s five ‘o’clock on the dot.
“He is, but uh… he seems to know Annie…,” he says, surprising me and I immediately look up to search his face for what he could mean by that.
“Annie’s here?” She’s early which is fine, but what the hell is going on with her and the beer rep?
“Yeah, she’s at the bar and the guy is talking to her. She doesn’t seem a bit happy about it though,” he informs me, shaking his head.
I think for a moment, trying to piece together what the connection could be. I take a mere second to sort through the email correspondence between the rep and me, and remember he signed his messages N. Baker.
“Fuck, I think I know who he is,” I mutter, jumping out of my chair and making my way to the main bar area in deliberate strides. The bartender in me from years ago that used to bounce assholes out of this place kicks in, and I’m already fantasizing about hauling this guy out of here. He doesn’t know about Annie and me, but he doesn’t need to be talking to her either. He lost that right a long time ago. Am I overreacting? Probably. I am caveman, hear me roar…
I come around the corner into the main bar and get a back view of Annie. She has her body turned completely toward the bar with only her face turned toward him while the douche nozzle is turned completely toward her, not picking up on her body language whatsoever. I’m about to storm over when I see his cocky facial expression falter for a moment as he swallows hard, then tries to recover. I slow my pace and walk up quietly, stopping just close enough to hear their interaction.
And I should’ve known… my girl is handling herself effortlessly, shutting him down left and right with her witty, snarky comebacks.
All of a sudden, I’m not so eager to throw his ass out. Instead, I fold my arms over my chest and take in the show. I try like hell not to laugh out loud at all her jabs and barbs. Forrest busies himself drying a pint glass behind the bar, looking as ready as I do to jump in if this asshole goes too far. And when he does, by trying to insinuate Annie is here without anybody, I move in to stake my claim.
Nate opens his mouth to respond, but his eyes catch Tyler’s just over my shoulder. I chance a glance myself to see my amazing man looking sexier than ever in his signature work attire, and the broodiest look I have ever seen on his face as he stares harpoons at Nate. He gives the moron a second or two to take in his presence before coldly introducing himself.
“I’m Tyler Hayes,” he says plainly.
Nate shakes the dumb look off his face and quickly tries to replace it with one that I’m sure he thinks exudes a cool professionalism.
“Hey, Nate Baker from Black Wolf Breweries. Nice to meet you,” he says, holding out his hand as he tries to project a smug confidence, which he fails at miserably. He gets visibly uncomfortable holding his hand out while Tyler continues to stare. “We… have an appointment?”
I inwardly squeal with delight watching him squirm as Tyler leaves him hanging. That’s right, my big strong man is here to save me. Suck on that, stupid!
“I’ll pass on the handshake,” Tyler tells him as he intimately reaches across me to grab onto the seat of my stool, swiveling me to face him, putting my round belly fully on display for Nate. Then he moves to stand between my knees and brings his mouth down on mine, drawing me into a kiss that transports me to a magical parallel plane where we aren’t being ogled by a dickfuck with his mouth hanging open. Tyler lets the kiss go on for several seconds, stroking his thumb against the skin of my jaw.
After gently pulling away, he lets his eyes linger lovingly on mine for a few seconds more before turning to Nate and adding, “In fact, I’ll pass on the whole consultation.” Nates eyebrows pull together in disbelief as his shoulders slump inward as Tyler goes on to explain, “You see, I run an establishment that’s important to me and I need to protect that. I think I’d be making a pretty big mistake by conducting business with someone that blatantly lacks a sense of integrity.”
Ooh, this is getting me hot. I’m so turned on that my thought process is reverting to short and simple sentence fragments in my mind.
Need – Tyler – sex - now!
“Not to mention an excuse of a man who clearly doesn’t know a good thing when he has it,” Tyler says to Nate without even looking at him as he takes my hands and helps me down off of my seat. “I don’t trust your judgement.” He finally turns to face Nate, who’s gone a very unattractive shade of white. “So you’re going to have to go back to your distributor and tell them I’m not interested in featuring your brews here in my bar, and to look out for an email from me. Colton and Forrest will see you out,” he finishes, taking my hand and leading me away.
Must – bang – immediately - huh? Oh, we’re leaving.
“Where are we going?” I ask, leaning in and speaking low so Nate doesn’t hear.
“Mostly we’re making an exit,” Tyler answers me in a low murmur of his own. “But I figure I’ll take you to dinner at that new place up the street while we’re at it.”
“Sounds good. But first, can we go to your office, or the car? Just for like four minutes…”
34
June 28th was my damn due date. But no, here I am on July 5th, still pregnant. It’s not even nine AM and it’s hotter than Satan’s jockstrap outside, not to mention humid. Pair that with being nine months pregnant and I’m not the happiest of campers.
Our ancient air conditioner went on the fritz so we’ve spent a lot of time at Jack and Mayzie’s, cooling off in their pool. When Tyler and I thought about it, we decided we couldn’t have a newborn in this heat so we invested in a central air unit, and I swear, it’s already paid for itself and taken the edge off my crankiness. We’ve been letting Mr. Meowgi hang out here too. I couldn’t bear the thought of him in the sweltering heat with all that fur, and besides, since Tyler has become his catnip dealer, they’ve been getting along famously.
In an effort to save money, we’ve only been running our new toy just enough to stay comfortable, but today I’m letting it turn our house into an igloo. I’m enormous, and therefore my body temperature is running higher than it would on a not-pregnant day, not to mention I’m moving around. For some reason I can’t get comfortable sitting or lying down right now. I woke up feeling incredibly stiff everywhere, especially around my stomach and pelvis. I could barely enjoy my morning coffee without squirming and shifting in my seat because of it. This sparked another nesting spree, and so I’m waddling around the house, cleaning everything in sight. By the time Tyler wakes up, the bathroom is pristine and you could damn near perform a sterile surgical procedure in the kitchen.
I’m dusting the hell out of the living room furniture when he emerges from the bedroom, pulling a hoodie on over his bare chest.
“Oh good, you’re up,” I greet him. “Now I can do the bedroom.”
“What do you have the air set at Annie? It’s freezing,” he says, looking me up and down like I’m crazy for wearing just a tank top that I have rolled up over my gargantuan belly, and shorts.
“Go outside if you want to warm up. I’m roasting,” I explain as I continue to polish the TV stand. Besides, by the looks of the massive morning wood he’s sporting behind his boxer briefs, he’s not that cold.
“Maybe if you’d take a break from the cleaning Olympics, you’d cool down a little.”
“I can’t sit still. It makes my back hurt and my front hurt,” I complain, sounding like Roseanne in that Snickers commercial.
“Well if that’s happening, you should be taking it easy,” he argues, stepping closer to me.
“Tyler, seriously, I’ve tried. When I sit down I feel sore and stiff. This is the only way I feel better.” The irritation in my voice rises.
“It may feel better right now, but later I think you’re going to be regretting it.”
“Tyler! You’re dry humping my last nerve here,” I gripe as I bend forward to reach behind the TV. He scoffs and chuckles as he gets right
behind me with his hands on my waist and his hard-on rubbing against my ass.
“Well gee, why don’t you come back to bed with me and I’ll try humping something else?”
I feel a zing shoot between my legs as I lift my head. Now there’s an idea, I think as he continues.
“I’ll warm up, you’ll keep moving, and who knows, it could help induce labor. I know you’ve just about had it. Its wins all around,” he tells me, nibbling my ear.
An earth-shattering orgasm later, I’m immensely satisfied but still uncomfortable as all hell and I go to town on the bedroom, stripping the bed and cramming the linens into the laundry basket.
“Damn, I thought that would’ve calmed you down,” Tyler muses with a smirk as he comes out of the bathroom, his skin all dewy from the shower and only a towel around his waist.
“It was amazing; but sadly, no. I feel this inherent need to get this house in shape so that I don’t have to worry about it so much when we’re bogged down with diapers and feedings,” I babble out loud as I squish past him in the doorway, trying to juggle the laundry basket and my huge belly.
“Whoa,” he says, stopping me and taking the basket from me. “Let me get that. You can clean, but you’re not bending and lifting. I’ll get this going in the wash.” He turns and heads for the laundry alcove by the back door. Now there goes every woman’s wet dream - a half-naked stud doing laundry.
I turn to take some jewelry boxes and frames off the top of the dresser so I can clean that surface when I feel a sharp twinge down low in my abdomen.
“Ow,” I say out loud to myself as I rub the spot on my belly where I felt it. After a few seconds, I feel it ease and I start cleaning again. Ten minutes later, Tyler is dressed in cargo shorts and is buttoning a short-sleeved shirt.
“Are you going to work?” I ask, putting everything back on the dresser.
Picture Us (Turn it Up Book 3) Page 26
