Hammered

by Mj Fields

  All of it starting with a lie will fail.

  I glance back at Phoenix, and she looks down again.

  Didn’t take her as a girl who wanted a fucking lie. Couldn’t muster one up if I tried.

  Lies ruin lives, destroy futures, and wreck families.

  I fucking build things. Take pride in what I do and who I am. I take pride in my word.

  “Your drink,” Mandee says from behind me, and I turn around.

  “What’s her deal?” I ask as I pull my money clip out of my jean pocket.

  “Um...” She looks toward Phoenix, and then back at me. “She’s my best friend.”

  “But what’s her deal?” I ask, handing her a hundred.

  She looks down and smiles, her brown hair falling in her face. “She’s strong, and she makes me stronger.”

  I nod, wanting her to keep going, wanting to know more.

  “I was in a bad relationship.” She frowns. “Really bad, and she helped me.”

  “That’s a good friend,” I say because it’s true, and because I want to keep her talking.

  “She knows what it’s like, you know, to be hurt. And look at her. She doesn’t give up. She’s still moving forward.”

  There is an innocence about this girl, a sadness, something broken.

  “Phoenix.” She smiles. “She doesn’t need anyone to watch out for her. She doesn’t hide or let anything hold her back. She’s going to do something great with her life. Something she wants to do, not what’s expected of her.”

  “And you?”

  That shocks her, and she looks up. “Well, I’m...I’m...” She stops and shrugs.

  “You’re gonna be fine. Gonna do great things, too.”

  “That’s what Phoenix says.”

  “You gotta believe it, too.” I toss back my drink and stand.

  “You want another one?” she asks.

  “Nah, I’m good.” With that, I walk out of the bar and don’t look back.

  I wake up and walk out onto the deck. The sun is rising. It’s a new day.

  I left the bar last night, having decided that I’m done trying to get with Phoenix.

  Mandee was an eye opener. She thinks Phoenix is strong, good for her, but I call bullshit. She’s every bit as fucked up as the girl who hides behind her hair and has a hard time even looking into someone’s eyes when they talk to her.

  I hear my phone ring from my bedside table and walk back in the house.

  “Hello?” I answer.

  “How’s it going, man?” It’s Zandor, my high school best friend who I have kept in touch with for years.

  “Beautiful up here,” I tell him as I walk back out onto the deck.

  “I’m talking about getting back on the horse.” He laughs.

  “You mean that fuck app you talked me into?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean. You fucking everything that walks like when we were in high school?”

  “Had a couple meet-ups.”

  Silence, and then a sigh. “Falcon, you’re a fucking stud, man. If you’re having a hard time getting it up, I heard there are pills and shit.”

  “Steel, next time I see you, I’m gonna nut punch your ass.”

  “That bad? I mean, I’ve heard some stories...” He chuckles. “Profile pics are from ten years ago and shit.”

  I don’t say a word.

  “You got a fucking tranny, didn’t you?” He laughs his ass off.

  “Nut punch with a fucking ball bat,” I sneer.

  “You at least fucked her face, right?”

  “I’m thinking a fucking sledgehammer now,” I warn.

  “Jesus, man, throw a guy a bone.” He cracks up now.

  In the background, I hear whispers and know it’s his brothers.

  “No, man, he got a tranny,” he tells them.

  “The fuck I did!” I yell at him. “You better make damn sure they know that’s shit, Z.”

  “You’re on speaker, man. We gotta hear this from the horse’s mouth.” It’s Cyrus.

  “You assholes run a billion-dollar business and got nothing better to do than sit around that boardroom like it’s fucking story hour?”

  “Nope, not one thing.” It’s Jase. “Tell us about the tranny.”

  “There was no fucking tranny, assholes. Just three women and a cockblock.”

  “All at once?” Xavier pipes in.

  “Shut up, X. Falcon’s gonna tell us the story. Three chicks and a cockblock. That anything like Goldilocks and The Three Bears?” Zandor laughs.

  “Let it go,” I warn.

  “Once upon a time, there was a hot fucking Jersey stud who yielded a golden fucking hammer. His name was Falcon,” Zandor starts.

  “Oh, here we fucking go,” Xavier mutters.

  “Enough, Zandor,” I tell him.

  “He hadn’t eaten porridge in a long-ass time, and he forgot how damn delectable it was,” he continues, ignoring my warning.

  “I remember what pussy tastes like, you fucking asshole,” I almost laugh...almost.

  “Yeah, but he forgot that some pooty porridge is too hot.” He chuckles.

  “Or too fucking loose,” Jase adds.

  “Or too fishy,” Cyrus pipes in.

  “Fuck, that’s nasty. You wanna pull back, run from that shit. But at porridge tasting point, you’ve already promised your dick a nice, warm pussy. There is no retreat.” Jase snickers.

  “Yeah, Falcon, you just gotta be strong, man.” Xavier is dying now.

  “The fuck you do! Pussy ain’t supposed to taste like fish,” Cyrus says in disgust.

  “Yeah, but if you’re eating a pussy that’s fishy, you know that chick is about to give up anything ’cause you haven’t run the fuck away like the others,” Xavier chimes in.

  “Two words,” Zandor says, serious as fuck. “Fake. Chow.”

  “You fucking assholes done yet?” I ask.

  “No, man, just getting started,” Zandor says on a laugh. “Unless you’re gonna tell us what’s up.”

  “Fine. There’s this girl who seems to be around every damn corner. Three times I’ve been out, three times she’s cockblocked me.”

  “Keep going, man.”

  “Ends up she’s a tenant here,” I say, leaning back against the railing.

  “Nice, man. She an easy bake?” Xavier asks.

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “Hot and ready?” he answers.

  “She’s fucking hot, but nowhere near ready.”

  “Bekah needed a preheat,” Zandor tells me. “Fucked her good, and she tried to push me away. They always come back to good dick, Falcon, always.”

  “Have you fucked her?” Jase asks.

  “No.”

  “You tell her straight up you want in that box?” Cyrus asks.

  “Yes,” I grumble.

  Silence.

  “Trust me when I tell you that Phoenix isn’t your typical woman.”

  “Phoenix and Falcon. I love that.”

  Oh, fuck no. It was Carly, Jase’s wife.

  “What the hell? Am I on speaker for all of Steel?” I’m pissed.

  “Just us,” another female says. “Hi, Gage.”

  “Who the hell is that?”

  “That would be mine.” Zandor chuckles.

  “Maybe the boys need to take a trip to see you. I mean, until we met the rest of them, we couldn’t really understand our Steel men.” There’s a pause. “It’s Taelyn.”

  “Jesus Christ,” I grumble.

  “If it helps any, I was glad Cyrus was honest with me. Oh, this is Tara.”

  “Kind of figured that,” I reply, annoyed as fuck.

  “Right.” She giggles. “Still, maybe we can help convince her you’re a good man.”

  “No disrespect, Mrs. Cyrus, but I don’t want to wife her, just let off some steam.” I clear shit up really quick.

  “Uh-huh,” several of them say.

  I need out of this call.

  “Hey, Zandor, nice fucking
talk, you dick.” I hang up.

  Chapter Six

  Like A Back Road

  Phoenix

  I wake up, knowing I slept longer than normal. I dreamt of him, and woke up several times, forcing myself back to sleep. Each time I awoke, he was so close to being inside of me. God, I want him, and I haven’t wanted a man in years.

  Mandee told me about their conversation and that she thinks I should give him a chance. What she doesn’t know, and I’m not going to tell her, is that he doesn’t want anything more than a sexual relationship. She still believes in that storybook kind of romance. That innocence that she still has, I hope it never goes away. I won’t ever ruin it for her, but it’s lost on me.

  Her story began much differently than mine. Her princess years were tea parties and watching her parents hold hands. She still believes that’s what is supposed to happen.

  I don’t.

  I get out of bed and throw on a hoodie. Then I brush my teeth and use the bathroom before wandering outside.

  “Morning, honey girl, coffee?”

  I smile as I head down my porch steps. “Of course, Mags.”

  She hands me the cup, and I hold it while she pours.

  “So, what does Phoenix have planned for today?” she asks, patting the spot next to her on the glider.

  “More mowing.” I take a drink of the steaming hot coffee. “Then laundry, I suppose.”

  “Care to have dinner with me tonight? Unless you have plans, of course.” She smiles.

  “I’d love that. Just let me know what I can bring,” I tell her, leaning back.

  “Will do.” She leans back herself. “It’s a beautiful day, Phoenix Star.”

  “It sure is,” I say, looking up at the clear sky and bright sun. “Sure is.”

  With no lawn to mow, I look around the barn to see if I can find any spare scraps of wood, but then decide that would force me into a conversation with Gage. It’s his property, after all.

  When I walk out of the barn, he is walking in. He looks past me and doesn’t say a word.

  I stop and look back, expecting him to say something, anything. He doesn’t. Not one thing. Therefore, I turn back around and walk up the driveway.

  It hurts that he said nothing, but then...Then I’m pissed. I’m pissed that he won’t talk to me because I haven’t given in to his request.

  Fucking men.

  I walk inside, grab my laundry basket, and then head to my Jeep.

  “Where you off to?” Mags calls down to me.

  “No lawn left to mow, because he...” I pause, knowing I sound bitter. I am bitter. “Just heading to the laundromat.”

  “The one in the big house not working?” she asks.

  I open the back of the Jeep and set the basket in, trying to choose my words kindly.

  I close it and look up at her. “I’m sure it’s fine, Mags, but I’m going to do all of mine and my bedding. It’ll be easier at the laundromat.”

  And I won’t be near him.

  I head back inside to strip my bed because now I have to do it, too.

  As I walk out, Mags yells down, “Have a good day.”

  “Need anything at the store?” I ask.

  “We still gonna head into town tomorrow?” she asks.

  Shit. “Yes, of course, Mags. It’s our shopping day.”

  “Drive safe. Remember dinner at seven?”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  Pulling down the dirt road, I see the sign, Falcon’s Landing. For a few weeks, it blanketed me with peace. Now I feel the completely opposite.

  I turn on the radio, and a song I have heard a few times comes on. “Body Like A Back Road” by Sam Hunt. I try to embrace what I have come to like about country music—the fact that it inspires thoughtfulness and hope.

  This song, though...This song makes me think of him.

  I let my mind drift to what he looks like completely and totally bare, standing on his deck. My insides clench, and my annoyance spikes.

  “So what? He’s hot. There’re plenty of hot men out there.”

  I lean forward and knock my head against the steering wheel. I want to believe what I just said out loud, but it’s not true. I know damn well it’s not.

  The man is perfection, from his perfect hair, to his liquid, mystical eyes, his lips, that fucking face, his neck, shoulders, chest, waist, that ass—dear God, that ass in the bare—to his thick, strong thighs.

  “Shut up,” I scold myself. “Shut it off.”

  I bet his feet are nasty, and he has a small dick. I smile inwardly, absolutely believing that could be true. I have yet to see for myself, so logic is on my side. No one could be that perfect.

  When I get to the cabin, Mags isn’t on the porch. I look at my watch to see it’s six thirty. I managed to stay away all day. I grab my basket of laundry out of the back and walk up on the porch, seeing there’s a note tacked to the door.

  It’s a beautiful night, honey girl.

  Dinner down by the lake.

  If you have some paper napkins, bring them along.

  ~Mags~

  I shower quickly then throw on some shorts and a tee-shirt, grab a sweatshirt, and throw it and the napkins in my backpack. At the door, I shove my feet in a pair of sandals and head out.

  After closing the door behind me, I put my earbuds in and hit my music, keeping my head down as I walk past his house. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to see the way he looks at me. And I don’t want him to see whatever he sees when I look at him.

  He told me the very first night we met what he wanted to find out, and I will be damned if I don’t want to find out the same thing.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  Fucking joke. I’m a fucking joke.

  When I get to the lake, I see him before I see Mags. They are standing on the dock, and he’s helping her cast a fishing line.

  I hold my phone up and take a picture of her smiling up at him and he down at her. I take another when he leans down and kisses the top of her head. Then I take a moment to breathe back the emotions it stirs in me.

  I miss my grandmother. Mags reminds me of her in a way. A little less reserved, but she’s amazing just the same.

  I clear my throat as I walk closer, and they both look back at me.

  “Grab a pole, honey girl.” Mags points to the bench that they rest against.

  I shake my head. “I don’t fish.”

  “Gage will put that worm on the hook for you,” Mags says.

  I look at him as he looks back and shake my head again. “I’m all set.”

  He rolls his eyes and shrugs as he looks away, dismissing me.

  Ouch. No. No, ouch, fucker. He’s a fucker.

  “Mags, can I do anything to help?”

  “Nope, just gotta wait until we catch dinner.” She laughs. “They should be biting soon.”

  Catch dinner? Oh, hell no.

  He looks back and catches my facial expression then smirks and looks away.

  “I got one!” Mags laughs. “Gage, I got one!”

  “Feels like a big one, too. You want me to bring it in, Mags?”

  “No, this is mine to deal with.” She chuckles as she spins the handle on the pole. She looks back. “Dinner, honey girl.”

  I can’t tell her how disgusting that seems to me.

  “Awesome,” I say with a thumbs-up.

  She gets pulled forward, and then the pole flies out of her hand. Gage catches her before she falls into the lake.

  “You good?” he asks.

  “My pole!” she yells, pointing toward the water.

  “Plenty more—”

  “That’s my favorite,” she says.

  He sighs and reaches behind his back, pulling his shirt over his head as he kicks his sandals off.

  Ugly feet. I want to see ugly feet.

  When he jumps in after her pole, she is pointing and telling him, “Left, it’s left.”

  “I got it, Mags,” he says.

  I walk cl
oser to see him swim toward it and grab it just as the end of the handle starts to sink.

  “Fish still on it?” she yells.

  He doesn’t answer as he swims toward the dock and hands it up before his hands hit the dock and he pushes himself out of the water.

  The sun is setting behind him, showcasing his rippling and popping muscles. Then he hops up on the dock and runs his hands over his wet hair.

  A man his size hopping around like he’s nothing...sexy.

  God, I need help.

  “Still on?” he asks, rubbing his hands over his body, wiping off the excess water.

  “Sure is, my boy, sure is.”

  Mags’ happy laughter snaps me out of me wanting to tell him to just take me now. Sort of.

  I look at his feet and inwardly curse him and his Maker. They are perfect, too.

  Why? Why? Why?

  How is this fair?

  It’s not.

  I look up his body slowly, taking in every inch of him. When I get to the ink on his chest, I look at it closer than ever before, wanting to know what it all means to him. All of it.

  I want to outline it with my fingers as I ask him to tell me his secrets. I want to trace it with my tongue as he tells me every one of them. I want his breath to catch when I lick across his sexy man nipples. I want to hear him growl when I bite down on them.

  I want him.

  I look up to find him watching me.

  I want to look away, but when he licks his lips slowly, I look down to see what he’s looking at and realize my nipples are peaked, pointing at him like arrows of arousal.

  I cross my arms over my chest, and he shakes his head slowly as he looks up at me while reaching down to adjust himself.

  Dead. I’m fucking dead.

  “Gage, my boy,” Mags says through her laughter. “He’s a biggen. Do you think he’ll be good eating?”

  He looks down at my lower half, and my body clenches. “Damn sure it’s gonna be.” His nostrils flare when he looks up at me again.

  When he turns around, I let out the breath I was holding. Then I take a deep breath, hoping to fill my lungs with something other than him.

  It doesn’t work.

  “I’m gonna head up and use the bathroom, Mags. You need anything?”