by Harley Stone
“No. I’m good.”
“You need anything?” His gaze shot to her empty glass. “More water?” Before she could answer, he scooped up the glass and headed for the fridge.
“Relationship goals,” Rita, another shelter resident, whispered to me.
I nodded and thought of Bull, feeling the ache in my chest that usually accompanied such thoughts. Bull was protective. He never let me walk home alone, and he never let me pay for anything. I wondered what kind of father and husband he’d be. Did he even want the whole marriage and kids package? We’d covered so much conversational ground as friends, but he always changed the subject when I broached familial topics.
Maybe he just doesn’t want a family with me.
The thought punched me in the gut, making my eyes sting and a lump form in my throat. There was undeniable attraction between me and Bull, but he seemed determined not to do anything about it. I needed to break down the walls he was hiding behind and make him surrender his heart to me so we could achieve our own relationship goals.
“You need anything else?” Havoc asked, setting the glass down in front of Julia.
“Actually, I need to use the restroom,” she replied, pushing back her chair to stand.
“Want me to go for you?” he asked, rising beside her. Then realizing what he’d said, he amended the statement. “Or at least help you?”
She gave him a patient smile. “Thank you, but I’m fine. Really.”
He watched until she stepped out of the kitchen and turned the corner, moving out of his line of sight. The attention he showed her and Marcus was everything I wanted someday.
I just needed Bull to come around.
Meanwhile, I’d suck love and affection from everything around me, especially babies and dogs. “My turn,” I demanded, holding my arms out to Rita.
“You had him for like an hour before dinner,” she argued.
“Yeah, but he’s basically my nephew. Hand him over, or I swear I’ll shank you under the table.”
“Lily, we talked about this,” Monica chided. “All shanking is to be done above the table where I can critique form and strike.”
Laughing, Havoc turned to Stocks. “You have your hands full.”
“You have no idea. It’s like fight club around here,” Stocks deadpanned.
Just as I started thinking I’d have to pry Marcus from Rita’s cold, dead hands, he messed his pants. Scrunching up her face in disgust, Rita couldn’t get him away from her fast enough.
“Want me to get that?” Havoc asked.
I’d grown up babysitting, and had no problem changing diapers. “Nah. I got him. You just relax and enjoy your meal. I’m sure you and Julia don’t get to enjoy many warm meals with this little man around.”
“Thanks Lily,” he said.
“No problem. Just remember, if you ever need a sitter, I’m your girl.”
He nodded. “We might take you up on that. I’m going back to work tomorrow, and Julia might need some help over the weekend. You don’t start your apprenticeship until Monday, right?”
Confirming, I carried Marcus into the living room and changed his stinky little butt. When I returned, Monica had me bring the baby over so she could get a good look at him.
“Hey Marcus,” she cooed, rubbing a finger down the side of his chubby cheek. “I’m your favorite aunt, Moni, and we’re gonna be great friends. I’ll teach you how to catch frogs, race dirt bikes, fly jets, swear like a pilot, and give your dad all sorts of gray hair.”
“Great. Thanks,” Havoc grumbled, fighting back a smile. He looked scary, but he was about as vicious as Brahma.
“Want to hold him?” I asked Monica.
She eyed the baby skeptically. She was kind of weird about babies. Naomi, Monica’s best friend, had a toddler named Maya. Monica loved Maya and considered her family, but I rarely saw her hold Maya.
“What’s wrong? You scared of babies?” Havoc asked.
“No, I’m not scared of babies,” Monica snapped, still watching little Marcus like he was Gizmo, star of an old comedy horror movie. Cute and harmless now, but if she handled him wrong, he’d turn into a gremlin and attack her.
Havoc chuckled. “You sure? You look terrified.”
“I’m not scared of babies, per se. I’m scared this whole pregnancy bug could be contagious, and I’m not about that life.”
Stocks eyed her. “I don’t think pregnancy is contagious, babe.”
“That’s what the man wants you to think, but you don’t know for sure,” Monica replied. “The girls all keep catching motherhood like it’s the goddamn flu. I ain’t catchin’ no baby bug, Butter.”
She was being ridiculous. “I’ve been babysitting for more than a decade and haven’t gotten pregnant,” I said.
“Yeah? Well, you go ahead and take your chances, but I’ll be over here livin’ my best childless life.”
“Oh, come on, Auntie Moni.” I leaned closer, practically setting the baby on her lap.
Marcus’s eyes drifted to her and he gave her a lopsided smile. He was adorable, and she couldn’t help but return the gesture. Recognizing her moment of weakness, I doubled down on my efforts.
“He smiled at you! Look, he likes you.” He most likely just had gas, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Of course, he likes me. I told you, I’m the cool aunt.”
“You sure you’re not the chicken aunt?” Havoc asked, goading her.
She scowled at him for a minute before turning on Stocks. “You just gonna let him talk to me like that?”
Stocks threw his hands up in the air. “Do you have any idea how sexy you look with a baby in your arms?”
Her scowl only deepened. “Don’t you start in, too. It’s bad enough I have my mom beggin’ for grandbabies.”
“It’s your body. Your choice. But you gotta admit, we’d have one hell of a cute baby.”
“The cutest.” A smile tugged at her lips, but she fought it like a champ. “Okay. Fine. Hand over the little ankle biter.”
“Careful with his head and neck,” Havoc cautioned.
She snorted. “Oh be quiet, you big lug, I know damn well how to hold a baby.”
After the initial awkward handoff, Monica leaned back in her seat, cradling the baby in her arms. As she studied his features, her expression softened. “He’s got your big ass forehead, Havoc.”
Havoc’s eyebrows shot up. “I don’t have a big ass forehead.”
“Yeah you do. And you passed it along to this poor little man. Thankfully, he’s got his mama’s cheek bones and eyebrows.”
Havoc’s lips tugged into a smile. “Yeah.”
“His skin is darkening. He was so pale when he was born, but now it’s the perfect shade of caramel brown.” Her gaze roamed over Stocks and I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through her mind. Was she considering what their child would look like? As her attention returned to the baby, emotion flooded her eyes. Her shoulders dropped and she let out a breath. “Fuck.”
“What’s wrong?” Stocks asked.
She threw her head back and stared at the ceiling. “I think my ovaries just engaged. Dammit, dammit, dammit.” Looking back down at Marcus, she added, “Why do you have to be so damn cute?”
Havoc gave her a knowing chuckle. “Changes everything, doesn’t it.”
“Yeah. I… God, my chest. My fuckin’ uterus is screaming. What the hell are you doing to me, little man?”
Havoc’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.
Stocks’s eyes turned glassy. “You look damn good with a baby in your arms.”
“Hush, you. You’re not helping.” Looking at Havoc, she added, “It’s weird. I’d do anything for him. I’d kill anyone who hurt him. What is wrong with me?”
“Just wait until you have one of your own,” Havoc said.
Her gaze shot to Stocks. She studied his face for a few heartbeats, and then her eyebrows shot up in question.
Stocks gave her a lopsided grin. “You kn
ow I’m game if you are.”
She shook her head. “We’ve gotta be crazy. I’m not supposed to want a baby. I’m supposed to be the cool aunt who spoils the hell out of the club kids after they’re potty trained and committed to a normal sleeping schedule.” She held Marcus up until he was eye level with her. “Will you please do something gross like barf or shit up your back?”
He made the cutest little cooing noise.
“Wail? Or at least fuss a little,” she pleaded. “Pretty please? Come on. Wail like a banshee for Auntie.”
He gave her another gassy smile.
“Goddammit.”
Julia chose that moment to walk back into the dining room. She took one look at Monica and laughed. “Looks like someone has baby fever.”
Rita elbowed me. “Hm. You were wrong. Turns out pregnancy is contagious.”
7
Bull
“NOW I KNOW what it feels like to be objectified,” Tavonte complained, gripping his coffee cup like it was a fucking shield he could use to ward off Ms. Moore’s advances. After getting repeatedly accosted during the drive, we’d left the elderly woman in the waiting area of the shop and were working up her invoice. “I need a shower.”
“She’s a bit handsy,” I admitted, trying not to laugh as I pulled up her insurance coverage.
“A bit handsy? That woman’s a fuckin’ octopus!”
Ms. Moore had spent the entire drive sandwiched between us, with a hand on each of our thighs. No matter how many times we tried to respectfully remove them. She was a lot stronger than she looked, and her vice-like grip was impressive as hell. My favorite moment of the drive was when she’d leaned over to Tavonte and asked him if the rumors about black men were true. He’d choked on air, and then feigned ignorance.
“I don’t know which rumors you’re talking about, ma’am.”
Her gaze dropped to his crotch and she licked her lips. “Oh, I think you do.”
Bottling up my laughter took every ounce of willpower I possessed.
She patted Tavonte’s leg. “Doesn’t matter. This is nice.” Sitting back, she seemed reflective. “Reminds me of my old skiing days.”
Tavonte’s brows drew together and he opened his mouth, no doubt to ask what she meant. Suspecting I knew, and he didn’t want to know, I shook my head. That was one disturbing can of worms he wasn’t ready to open. He met my gaze and snapped his mouth closed.
Ms. Moore looked pleased as punch as her hands steadily crept up our thighs.
“That woman’s not right,” Tavonte whispered, sounding scandalized. “She’s a grandma. She shouldn’t be asking questions about the size of my cock.”
“She’s just a lonely woman who took advantage of a bad situation.”
“You’re taking this a little too well. Does this kind of thing happen often around here?”
I applied Ms. Moore’s insurance coverage to the invoice and frowned at the difference. “No. But look at us. She obviously has excellent taste.”
He snorted. “Hey, what did she mean by that skiing comment? How did being with us remind her of her skiing days?”
I chuckled, preparing to scar Tavonte even further. “We were on either side of her.”
He gave me a blank look. The lucky bastard still didn’t get it. Ah well, it was my job to enlighten him. Hell, if I was destined to have nightmares about Ms. Moore’s advances, so was he.
“You know. Like ski poles,” I replied. “One on each side.”
His confusion morphed into understanding, and then outrage and disgust. As his eyes widened and his mouth hung open, I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. He shuddered and threw a not-so-discreet glance over his shoulder to the elderly woman in question. “That’s nasty!”
“She’s just sowin’ her wild oats.” I followed his gaze to the waiting area. Wasp had walked in and was talking to Tiffany about a work order. Ms. Moore’s jaw was practically brushing against the floor as she watched him in unbridled awe and fiery lust. “Looks like we’re safe. She found a new target.”
Wasp finished up with the receptionist and stopped in front of Ms. Moore, flashing her a smile. I briefly considered calling him over to warn him, but he was a pro at handling problem customers. I’d seen him smooth talk even the roughest and gruffest, so one sweet but kinky little old lady should be no problem. Besides, the asshole prankster deserved the kind of encounter Ms. Moore’s handsy appreciation would provide.
“Hi there. Have you been helped?” he asked.
She nodded and started to stand. Wasp, being the ladies’ man he was, offered her his hand. Thanking him, she accepted, allowing him to pull her to her feet. When he released her hand, she clenched his forearm. His gaze drifted down to where they were still connected. Her fingers loosened only enough to slide over his elbow to his bicep. Ms. Moore was clearly into muscles, and our resident power lifter had brawn to spare.
Giving his arm a squeeze, her eyes went wild and she said, “I’ve never seen a man as big and pretty as you before.”
I clamped my lips shut so I wouldn’t laugh.
Beside me, Tavonte snickered.
Wasp’s glare shot to us, and we both found more interesting things to look at. No need to make fun of one of the three men with the authority to sign my paychecks.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ms. Moore reach for his long, blond hair, but Wasp somehow dodged her advance. Being an amateur body builder, he’d probably evaded his fair share of groping women over the years.
I pointed at the screen, getting Tavonte’s attention. “Remember how I was telling you about Morse’s software? Well, not only does it give us the customer’s towing coverage, but it also runs a soft background check.” Morse was a goddamn genius. He could get computers to do shit most people would never even imagine. I didn’t know how legal his software was, but since we didn’t use it for anything nefarious, I couldn’t give a shit. “We picked Ms. Moore up a little over three miles outside of what’s covered by her policy.”
His brows drew together. “So, we charge her for the difference?”
At our usual rates of seventy-five dollars per mile, that’d put her back two-hundred and twenty-five dollars, for the tow alone. And who knew how much her repairs would hike up that cost? “Theoretically, but we have a lot of leeway here.” I tapped the financial information on the background check. “She’s gonna have a hard enough time paying for the repairs. Adding two hundred dollars for the tow seems cruel.”
“So, we don’t charge her?”
“Doesn’t seem right to. Yes, she’s a lonely, sexually frustrated woman who doesn’t respect personal space, but she’s a single woman on a fixed income.” I scrolled down the screen. “And look at that. Her deceased husband was military. I can’t charge her.”
He eyed me like he was suspicious of my motives.
“Despite what happened between me and Lily this morning, I’m not a complete asshole.”
I shouldn’t have brought up Lily. All day I’d been trying to forget the way her lip trembled, and her eyes hardened when I refused to talk to her. Mentioning her name conjured her image like I was seeing it again in real time.
“I know you’re not, man.”
Tavonte’s admission healed something inside of me. I shouldn’t have cared what he thought of me and the way I’d treated her, but I did. He was a good guy, and I didn’t want him to think I was a piece of shit. Hell, I didn’t want to be a piece of shit. Between a rock and a hard place without many options, I needed all the allies I could get.
Tavonte pointed at the screen. “But you already put in the mileage. How does that work? Do you have to back it out?”
“No. And I wouldn’t if I could. We keep clean records. I’ll override the difference here.” I moved my mouse to the appropriate spot and subtracted the difference to show no balance due. Then I tabbed until I got to where I needed to be. “I’ll make a note of why, here. We can write off so much business every year, and Specks is a damn good bookkeeper. When he
sees my note, he’ll know what to do with it.”
Before Tavonte could respond, his cell phone rang. He pulled it out, and concern flashed in his eyes as he glanced at the screen. “It’s my mom. She knows I’m shadowing you again today and wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important.”
“No problem, brother. Take it.”
Tavonte accepted the call with a worried, “Hey, Mom, what’s up,” as he hurried away from me, giving the call privacy.
Hoping everything was all right with his family, I went back to the screen and finished up Ms. Moore’s invoice. Numbers finagled, comments made, I printed the receipt and marched it over to her. Wasp had somehow managed to escape, and was nowhere in sight. Lucky bastard. Making a mental note to beg him for his secrets, I pasted on my most friendly smile and held out the receipt.
“Your insurance covered the tow. As soon as Rabbit diagnoses the problem, he’ll let you know the repair cost.”
“Rabbit?” Her expression fell. “Not Wasp?”
Aww. She had herself a crush, did she? I was both relieved and strangely disappointed her eyes didn’t get all googly when she met my gaze. The appreciation of the opposite sex was always nice for a boost of the ego, regardless of age.
“Yes ma’am. Wasp works in our motorcycle division.”
“Oh. I gotta get me one of those.”
I didn’t know if she was talking about a Wasp or a bike, but I sure as shit didn’t encourage her to elaborate. “Can I get you anything while you wait?”
“No, thank you. I’m fine. My daughter’s on the way. I gotta warn you now that she’s a bit uptight, always afraid I’m gonna get taken advantage of, or some such nonsense. But I know good people when I see ’em.” She gave me a conspiratorial grin. “Probably doesn’t help that you’re all so easy on the eyes, if you know what I mean.”
I couldn’t have missed her meaning if it was an out of control train and I was tied to the railroad tracks. “Thank you, ma’am. We try to stay in shape.”
“Well, let me tell you, I, for one, sure do appreciate it.”
