The Blue Collar Bachelors Box Set: The Complete Blue Collar Bachelors Series

by Miller, Cassie-Ann L.

  I'm on the B-Team. The job is to repair the foundation on some crumbling mini-mansion on the rich side of town.

  I’ve gotta get myself into a good headspace if I’m going to do a decent job today. I can’t bring my boatload of negativity to the worksite. With my eyes closed and my hands fisted on my knees, I sit there and try to visualize happy shit.

  Butterflies.

  Rainbows.

  All that jazz.

  That's what they told us to do at that bullshit veteran's support group I went to a few times. I don’t think this meditation stuff is working for me but at least with my eyes closed, I don’t have to see Dave’s stupid face. I manage to keep it up for a few minutes.

  But my eyes snap open and my heart launches into overdrive when the truck swerves sharply.

  Dave and Jim squeal like newborn piglets. "Goddammit, Pauly." Dave grips the headrest in front of him with white-knuckle force. "Put down the chips and stop steering the truck with your beer gut, man."

  Jim's voice comes out in a warning tone. "I already told you—I’m my momma’s only kid. It's my job to carry on my family genes. Don't you put my life in danger like that!"

  I’ll reserve comment here because I don’t have anything nice to say about the quality of Jim’s family genes.

  Pauly mutters an apology and drops the snacks into his lap, the fingers of his right hand curling around the steering wheel. As the truck shifts into the middle lane on the steep incline that leads to the freeway, we zip by a woman on the side of the road. She's pushing a hell of a stroller up the hill with about a dozen babies in it. Her clothes are wet from the rain. The hood of her pink sweatshirt is pulled over her head but tendrils of long, dark hair spill out, whipping across her face.

  The truck stops at the red light at the end of the street and I turn back, my attention glued to her. It's the way she's pushing the thing. With so much determination. Against the wind. Against the rain. Fighting her way through. Fuck, that's grit if I've ever seen it. I just can't look away.

  As she's getting closer, my skin tightens and my neck starts tingling. I lean closer to the window.

  "What the fuck are you doing?" Jim complains as my shoulder crushes him against his seat.

  Just as the woman is pulling up to the intersection, the traffic light turns green. Out of nowhere, a sleek white sportscar swerves into the right lane and dashes her with a tidal wave of dirty puddle water. She shrieks and the hood flies off her head on a brisk gust of wind.

  My heart stops.

  It's her.

  It's Daisy. The woman who's haunted my thoughts for two fucking years. The woman whose laugh echoes in my head each and every sleepless night. It's her.

  Meanwhile, Pauly makes a sharp right turn onto the freeway. "Fucking Tesla-driving asshole!" He thrusts his pudgy middle finger in the direction of the sportscar that just cut him off.

  "Stop the truck!" I roar as I tear my seatbelt away from my chest.

  Jim jolts as I lurch across his lap to yank on the door lever. "Whoa! Whoa, man! What are you doing?"

  Shock and panic surge inside the truck. "Stop the truck! Right fucking now!" I order Pauly.

  The man's wide eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror as I rattle the handle with all I've got. "Are you insane? We're on the freeway!" he shouts back.

  I rattle the door handle again. "Why won't this thing open?" I bark in frustration.

  "Leo probably clicked on the child safety lock. He uses this truck to pick his kid up from school sometimes." One of them explains.

  "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

  “Calm down man!”

  “This guy is crazy, y’all!”

  I press the button to lower the window. "That woman—I have to talk to her." I thrust my arm out the window in the direction where Daisy is dragging the arm of her sweatshirt across her face to chase the water away. “Turn the truck around.”

  Dave yanks me back. "Dude. A piece of ass isn't worth breaking your neck over."

  Pauly’s eyes focus on the rearview mirror. His expression reads confused. "And isn't that just Sophia? The daycare chick?"

  The men cringe in unison.

  Dave's got a nasty scowl on his face. "She's hot and all but her life is pretty sad. Trust me, you don't want to get tangled up with her."

  As the truck moves further away, the woman gets smaller and smaller. Common sense gradually begins to return to me. I fall back into my seat and my pulse begins to slow.

  I can't believe I'm still doing this to myself. I'm still thinking about that woman. It's been two years but I see her in every town I visit. And it's never really her. I’ve seen other women with dark hair and smooth skin and slight curves. But none of them are quite like her.

  When am I going to accept that I'll never see her again? The one night I spent with Daisy in that Vegas hotel room marked me permanently. It ruined me. But one night is all it will ever be. I just wish my brain would accept it.

  But how does a man accept that he's lost the girl of his dreams for good?

  Chapter Three

  Sophia

  The Cardi B song blasting through the Opal Lounge seeps right through my skin and takes up residence in my bones, rattling me from the inside. With my eyes focused on my feet, I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear and pretend not to notice the lingering attention of the group of horn-dogs seated at the bar.

  My god, this is weird.

  Tonight, I’m wearing a simple black blouse. It’s kind of sheer so it’s not completely drab, but at the same time, it doesn’t reveal too much of my soft tummy. Instead of my usual basic polyester yoga pants, my sister Angie forced me into these super uncomfortable garbage-bag-chic leggings that squeak every time I move. I’ve paired it with red lacquer-shine heels and a matching purse.

  But I literally feel naked without River propped on my hip. My daughter isn’t an extension of me. She’s her own tiny, little person, a separate entity from me. I know that, logically. But in practical terms, being here in this lounge instead of at home, reading her stories and tucking her in, feels strange and unnatural. I’ve already called to check on her three times since I left the house.

  Mom guilt is no punch line, ladies and gentlemen. That shit is real.

  Sophia—what the hell are you doing here? I’ve asked myself this question at least a dozen times since my friends herded me through the front door.

  I haven’t been to a bar since the night of my botched nuptials in Vegas. I close my eyes for half a second and I see it all in detail—the colorful neon lights, the enamel-topped counter, the broad-shouldered stranger who invaded the seat next to me and set my life on fire. I shake my head and push the memory away.

  I’m not here to meet anyone tonight. I’m just here to hang out with my girlfriends.

  And in all honesty, I’m really looking forward to having a drink. Now that River is weaned and I have a stockpile of breastmilk in the freezer, momma can have a cocktail. And heaven knows I need it.

  I mean, I was already having a bad day before the Tesla from hell showered me with mud water on the side of the road this morning. The rest of the day didn’t get much better from there. Well, at least now, I have a dirty martini to look forward to.

  The sight of Nova and Reese tucked into a dim booth in the corner of the room is like an oasis in the middle of the desert. I move purposefully in their direction, ducking around a half-naked waitress balancing a tray of shots and a drunken couple making out in the middle of the passageway like there’s some noble humanitarian purpose behind their sloppy tongue wrestling.

  As I’m closing in on the table, I hear snippets of my friends’ conversation. “Relax. It’s not a big deal,” Nova is saying as she brings her whiskey-filled tumbler to her lips.

  Reese doesn’t seem to share that opinion. She’s frowning hard. “We have to tell her. We can’t just spring this on her without warning.”

  A hell of a knot tightens in my belly. “Tell me what?” I ask cautiously as I slip into my sea
t on the dark vinyl bench across from my friends. I plonk my purse down on the table.

  Reese’s gaze darts to me and guilt covers her face. “Charlie and Leo have a friend who’s in town…” she blurts.

  And I already don’t like where this is going.

  Nova remains calm in the face of my scowl. She gives me her best attempt at a nonchalant smile. “Reesie and I were thinking it would be fun to introduce you two.”

  “Tonight,” Reese spits out.

  My pulse kicks into high speed. “What?!” I bark loudly.

  “They’ll be here any minute now,” Reese adds and when I shoot her a deadly look, she thrusts her finger in Nova’s direction. “It was her idea!”

  Nova rolls her eyes and takes another leisurely sip of her drink. Her mocha skin glows against the sparkly red top dripping from her shoulders. “And it was a brilliant idea. I take full ownership of it.” The song changes and she wiggles in her seat, her shoulders moving in time with the music.

  I reach for my purse and pull out my phone. “No—it’s an ambush. You didn’t even run it by me first. Not cool.” Bubbles of anxiety fizz in the depths of my stomach as I check the time on my phone. “The 61 bus passes at the intersection outside, right? I think the next one is in three minutes so if I hurry—”

  Nova grabs hold of my wrist, annoyance in her expression. “Your unerring knowledge of this town’s bus schedule creeps me the hell out.” She releases my wrist and relaxes in her seat. “It’s not a big deal, Soph. Don’t psyche yourself out by thinking of it as a set-up or a blind date. We’re just a group of friends hanging out at a bar. No pressure at all.”

  My gut tells me not to trust her. She’s downplaying the gravity of the situation. I glance down at my body and my anxiety ratchets up a few more notches. It’s so cliché for a woman to be self-conscious about her post-baby body—I know—and I hate perpetuating that cliché. But honestly, right now, I’m not at my best.

  I glare at my stupid, stupid garbage bag leggings. Why on earth did I wear this?

  I used to have clothes. Nice clothes. But after I got pregnant, they ended up stuffed into my closet like museum exhibits, relics from my past life as Josh’s arm-piece.

  So, I had a garage sale.

  And besides, none of those designer clothes possessed the level of elasticity necessary to accommodate this newfound ass of mine, anyway. My post-baby body has curves. Thighs that do a little jiggle when I walk. Boobs that spill over the neckline of my shirts like a fountain drink.

  All that to say, I don't feel pretty. I don't feel sexy. My feet hurt.

  I’m definitely not ready to meet someone tonight. I don’t know when I’ll ever be.

  Reese seems to read all the turmoil on my face. When she bends forward to gently squeeze the back of my hand, her chandelier earrings bounce against the sides of her face and her silver tank top makes her dark eyes sparkle. “Relax hun,” she says with a soft, open smile. “He’s only going to be in town for a little while. From what Leo says, he never stays put in one place for too long. But he’ll be in our circle while he’s here. So you’re going to see him from time to time—like at Leo’s birthday cookout this weekend—so just say hi to him, be cordial and if you guys hit it off, then great. If not, no harm, no foul.”

  Nova nods in agreement. “Yeah, no pressure.” She pushes my cocktail closer until the cold glass presses against the side of my arm. “Charlie says his nickname in the military was Sergeant Good Times because he was all about having fun. So at worst, you can have a little fling with him. And you need it, Soph.” Her expression overflows with earnestness. “I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again…Obamacare doesn’t cover vagina atrophy. Every now and then, you need somebody to make your girlie bits tingle.”

  The three of us explode. Shots of laughter hurtle across the table. I jab her in the shoulder.

  “The past few years haven’t been easy for you,” Reese reminds me, “but you’ve rocked your trials with grace and grit. I’m so proud of you, hun.”

  “And that’s why you deserve a bed-breaking orgasm or two. M’kay?” Nova motions to my martini again. “Now, drink up.”

  I push out a sigh in concession. Then, I suck down my alcohol in a gulp. “Fine. I’ll stay and say hi to him.”

  Ready to burst from excitement, my friends rush over to my side of the table and fling their arms around me. I gasp at the sudden assault and get a mouthful of Nova’s hair as Reese’s flapping elbows crash into my ribs.

  "Oh my gosh, You guys are suffocating me," I shout, laughing and heaving for air. “So, what’s this guy like anyway?” I ask as I push them off of me.

  Nova wiggles with excitement at my show of interest. "Archie was in the military with Charlie and Leo. The three of them are best friends." She scoots across the bench until her hip is squished against mine.

  "He got injured pretty badly on his last deployment so he's been in a dark place," Reese explains. "Leo and Charlie have been trying for months to convince him to come to Copper Heights. And a few nights ago—boom!—out of nowhere he popped up at our front door."

  "The three of them had a hell of a reunion." Nova smiles solemnly. Cupping a hand around her mouth, she whispers. "There were man-tears involved." Reese confirms it with a nod. "Anyway, he's working for Charlie now. Not on the big projects. On some smaller jobs. Just to ease him back into regular life and to keep his mind off the depressing stuff. So, he doesn’t stay holed up in his motel room all day.”

  “Charlie doesn't want to strain him." Reese picks up her wine goblet from the table. "Y'know—sometimes I can't stand my brother, but he really does have an extra-large heart."

  A wicked smile touches Nova's lips. "Oh Reesie, all the best parts of your brother are extra-large. Trust me."

  Reese's smile capsizes into a scowl. "You're gonna need to stop." That’s a threat.

  Still smirking, Nova turns to me. "Anyway, this Archie dude is really good-looking."

  "Yeah, you'd be so cute together," Reese pipes in.

  They make it sound so simple but every bone in my body is protesting the idea. I’m gonna need some more liquid courage to deal with this.

  I squirm around in my seat as I gesture at the waitress for a refill. Jeez, these plastic leggings are uncomfortable. I’m sweating between the thighs. I suddenly have a newfound respect for any actress who has ever played Cat Woman.

  In a flash, the waitress slips my drink in front of me—Wow, this woman is on the ball!—and I take a greedy sip to calm my nerves.

  When I look up out the window, I catch a glimpse of Leo’s car pulling into the parking lot. My stomach jerks with anxiety. This Archie person is about to walk through the door any second now. Suddenly, I’m not so brave anymore.

  I grab my purse and nudge Reese out of the booth. “Bathroom break.”

  Nova eyes me like she's got me all figured out. "Just another excuse to run to the bathroom and call to check on River."

  I shrug a shoulder. "I miss my kid. Sue me."

  The second I'm inside the ladies' room, I prop my butt on the counter and send Angie a text.

  Sophia: What are you guys up to?

  Minutes tick by. She doesn't answer.

  Panic sets in, mounting with each passing second. Oh my god—what if something happened to my baby girl? Here I am at a bar, worrying about meeting some guy when my kid is in danger. What kind of mother am I? River needs me. I have to go to her.

  My hand is already curled around the door handle and I’m ready to dash out of here when my phone pings. I look down and a brand-new picture of my little girl glows up at me. A closeup of River sleeping contentedly on the bed in Angie's guest room with her favorite doll cuddled to her chest. My heart fills right up, relief flooding my chest.

  A second later, a text message from Angie pops up.

  Angie: sorry it took so long to answer. was getting the princess all tucked in.

  I start typing out a reply but before I can finish, my sister answers the questi
on I was about to ask.

  Angie: and yes, i barricaded her with pillows on all sides. she won’t roll off the bed :)

  Angie: stop worrying

  Angie: go get drunk and make some bad life choices

  I roll my eyes. I've made my share of bad life choices and we both know it.

  Sophia: You're the best. Love you.

  Smiling to myself, I set my phone on the counter. I lean in close to the mirror and examine myself. I’ve got some concealer-proof dark circles under my eyes and my skin is sickly pale. I reach up and pluck something out of my hair. Jeez, is that green pea puree? A short laugh flies out my mouth.

  Trying to make myself look sorta presentable, I comb my hair with my fingers and reapply the audacious red lipstick Angie must have tucked into my purse when I wasn’t looking. Then, I straighten my shoulders and look myself in the eye. The sound of my own voice fills my ears, rising above the low din of music seeping into the room from the dance floor. “You’re a hot babe. You’re a hot babe. You’re a hot babe. A little mashed peas in the hair never hurt anybody. You’re a hot babe.”

  There! Instant self-confidence!

  My phone pings again and I snap it up, thinking it might be Angie again. But when I check the message, it isn't Angie at all. Oh boy...

  Clara: Hi Sophie-Belle. It’s me, Clara. I just wanted to check in and make sure you got the tea set I sent River. For some reason the mailman brought it back and I was just wondering if you'd moved. Anyway, I'm so excited to have a tea party with my grandbaby and give her all the cuddles. Sending you my love, darling. Muah!

  My stomach is a mess of knots as it is every time Josh's mother reaches out to me. And she's been reaching out a lot lately.

  In the months after the wedding was called off, my ex's parents kept their distance. I guess they were embarrassed that their son is such an epic package of shit. But when word got around that I was pregnant, Clara called once or twice. She offered money and gifts but I didn't accept them. Even in my most financially desperate moments, I knew accepting her help wouldn't be right.