Law & Beard

by Lani Lynn Vale

  “I cannot believe you,” she hissed. “I cannot. I can’t.”

  I refrained from telling her that those two things were the exact same thing. She’d basically just repeated the same thing three times.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized, not sounding sincere in the least. “What do you need?”

  I might as well listen to her at this point.

  She hissed.

  “I’m not believin’ that you’re truly sorry, but whatever.” She growled, sounding super pissed.

  “I don’t really know what you want me to say here,” I said. “We’re divorced. You continue to call my son, as well as the other members of the MC all the fuckin’ time.”

  “Because you won’t answer the phone!” she all but yelled.

  “I won’t answer the phone because I don’t want to talk to you.”

  Her screech made me pull the phone away from my ear slightly, and that’s when Winnie crawled up my body and then planted a wet one directly on my lips.

  “What was that?”

  I could hear Lizzibeth screaming through the phone an arm’s length away.

  I sighed and placed the phone back to my ear, despite Winnie being on top of me.

  She was running her lips down the length of my jaw, then even farther down my neck to my collarbone.

  All the while she let her pussy—her bare pussy—rub against me.

  “I’m sorry, what did you ask?”

  “You’re in bed with her, aren’t you?” she hissed.

  “I fail to see how that’s any of your business,” I murmured. “Now, either tell me why you called, or hang up. It’s as simple as that.”

  She made a sound in her throat that even I knew was full of frustration.

  Then she started to laugh, making me curious as to what she would say next.

  “Well, have fun telling her that you’re still married,” she hissed. “And good luck getting an easy divorce this time like you did last time. I no longer feel bad for what I did. Not with you cheating on me, also. It ain’t gonna happen.”

  She hung up moments later, and I suddenly realized just why, exactly, Lizzi had been calling as much as she had.

  To tell me that we were still married.

  I felt like I was going to throw up.

  Being married meant a lot of things.

  Sort of like she still had access to my property. She still had access to half my money—which wasn’t a lot, but it was all I had.

  It also meant that the tempting morsel that was on my chest, frozen with her mouth next to my ear—exactly where my phone had previously been resting—would have to wait.

  I couldn’t have sex with her now that I knew I was still married.

  That went against every moral code that I possessed.

  Until I found out whether this was true or false, I had to wait…didn’t I?

  Just how, exactly, did that shit happen?

  Winnie pulled back and stared into my eyes. The black-out curtains that were covering the windows were doing a piss poor job of what they were designed to do.

  “You’re still married?”

  I let the phone drop from my ear and let it fall to the bed where I tried to breathe deeply to get my anger under control.

  “Yeah,” I growled. “Or so she says. But lying wasn’t really one of Lizzi’s problems. She was always upfront with her desires. Such as, she told me point blank that she was going to cheat. I’d thought she was joking. She wasn’t.”

  “Well, shit.” She sighed. “Does this mean I can’t do you?”

  I started to laugh, and it was a surprise. After the news that Lizzibeth had just shared, I didn’t think I’d be laughing again…ever.

  “Yeah, until I figure this out…this means I can’t do you.”

  “Well…shit.”

  ***

  At the end of the day, I looked up from loading the boat to see Winnie carefully making her way up the length of the boat, holding on with one hand while she looked down with the other.

  These last three days had gone by so well that I questioned why I’d ever told her she couldn’t come.

  She’d been monumental in making this rescue operation work as well as it had this week.

  She’d given a man CPR. She’d helped a woman having a diabetic episode. She’d even held babies while mothers tried to catch a breather.

  And I’d fucked her.

  I’d. Fucked. Her.

  Oh, and I wanted to fuck her again.

  A lot.

  But until I figured out this shit with Lizzibeth, that wasn’t going to happen.

  “You okay?”

  Winnie looked up and smiled.

  “I’m great. I haven’t been able to walk for long periods of time without my cane in months. I don’t know if it’s the water helping me or what, but it’s nice to be able to stand without also looking for places to sit in case of an emergency,” she answered, making her way to my side.

  I looped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her to my side as I continued to tighten the boat’s tether to the trailer.

  “You want to stop to eat now, or get out of here first?”

  She pursed her lips. “I’m thinking we get out of the city first. There’s only so many places open, and there’s always a line. If we’re going to wait anyway, we might as well make headway toward home first.”

  I agreed, but I wanted to make sure. “Sounds good.”

  After saying goodbye to the other volunteer police officers, firefighters and medics that had come down and been in our small rescue convoy, we left.

  We didn’t say a word until we were well outside of the flooded portions of the state.

  “You okay?”

  Winnie’s words had me glancing at her in surprise.

  “What?”

  “I said are you okay?”

  I frowned.

  “I’m fine, other than the obvious.”

  “And what’s the obvious?” she pushed.

  “The obvious being that Lizzibeth and I had a full annulment,” I continued. “We were married for two weeks before she told me that she wasn’t a monogamous kind of person.”

  Winnie blinked. “You’re shitting me.”

  “’Fraid not.” I rolled my eyes. “My kid doesn’t know this story, so if you happen to speak to him about it, don’t share this part.” I gave her a wry grin. “She literally told me she was going out on a date while I was on shift, and I didn’t believe her. Not until I went into a restaurant to grab a burger during my lunch and found her giggling and laughing, then kissing a man that wasn’t me.”

  “So you divorced her?”

  “I thought I did,” I confirmed. “I met with a lawyer, we filed it. I signed the papers. She signed the papers. Then the papers were turned in to the county.”

  “So what happened?” She twirled a stray piece of hair that had fallen from her bun.

  “What happened?” I shrugged. “I don’t know. I left a message for my lawyer. He’s an old friend of mine from the military. Todd said that he would look into it, but hasn’t gotten back to me yet.”

  “It’s only been a half a day.”

  “It has,” I agreed.

  “I…”

  My phone rang, and I hit the answer button on the console. Todd’s voice filled the speakers.

  “Hey, man,” Todd said.

  “Todd,” I murmured. “I was just talking about you.”

  “Thought I felt my ears burning.” He chuckled. “Hey, did you get my message?”

  “Nuh-uh,” I said. “Though I’ve been in a bad area. I’m down south helping out—or was helping out—with the flooding. They had two cell towers go down. What did you have to say?”

  “The annulment was denied because apparently the judge had seen you drink before, and he decided that you couldn’t be under the influence of alcohol since it could cloud your judgment. And, apparently, with his denial of the annulme
nt, he sent out certified papers to your place and they were signed for by you.”

  I winced. “I thought they were the annulment papers. Not papers that said that the annulment was denied.”

  “Anyway,” Todd went on. “It was suggested that you file for divorce, which was explained in the papers you received. You had ten days, I believe he said, to file for divorce or the divorce would be dropped off the docket.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yep. So, you want me to file for the divorce?”

  I snorted. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Okay,” he said. “I already had all the paperwork drawn up on my part. The only problem is that with divorce, you also have to divide up your assets.”

  “Our assets,” I said carefully.

  “Yes,” he said. “Anything you bought together while you were married, you have to divide up. Any vehicles, property, or belongings. If she’s willing, you can settle this without problem. She signs, you sign. Easy as that. But from what you told me earlier, she probably won’t be as willing to do that as she might’ve once been.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’ve been ignoring her for weeks.”

  Todd had the decency to quiet his guffaw of laughter by covering the phone, at least.

  “Well, stop ignoring her. Try to get her to settle out of court. You know I’ll drive over for this if it comes to it, but my wife’s been sick the last two weeks, and I’d like to not come down if I don’t have to.”

  “I’ll try my best, but it’s probably not going to work that way. She was pissed at me.”

  I looked over at the reason she was pissed at me and winked.

  Winnie rolled her eyes.

  “Well, I’ll file it in the morning. If all goes well, you can have it done within a few weeks.”

  A few weeks.

  I looked back at the woman occupying my passenger seat.

  I could make it a few weeks…right?

  Yeah, I heard the universe laughing, too.

  Chapter 12

  I don’t give a sip.

  -Coffee Cup

  Steel

  “But, Mom!”

  Winnie’s eyes narrowed, and I knew that she was about to blow.

  “I told you what I wanted,” she snapped. “I realize that you think you’re an adult at sixteen years old, but you’re not. You’re a minor. I am responsible for you until you turn eighteen, or you emancipate yourself from my care. I don’t want you to do that, but that threat isn’t going to work anymore on me. They’re fucking pants. If you don’t want to wear them, oh goddamn well. I had to deal with this crap when I was in high school, and never once did I complain. Why? Because I knew the rules. If I didn’t like the rules, that was just too goddamn bad. I knew better than to think the rules were going to change just because I didn’t like them.”

  Winnie’s daughter’s eyes went electric.

  “You compare yourself to me all the time. Let me tell you something, Mom. Things have changed.”

  “No, the only thing that has changed is that kids feel entitled to things that they have no right to feel entitled to. What’s changed is parents allowing their children to act like assholes by letting them get away with it.”

  “It’s a pair of shorts, Mom.”

  “NO,” she snapped. “It is not. It’s a pair of shorts that violates the dress code. The dress code that you violated last week and got sent home for. I don’t have time to take off of work to come get you. I especially won’t have the desire to come get you when you knew going in that you were violating the dress code. So, here’s your choice. You wear jeans, or you wear shorts. Just know that if you’re sent home, and I have to come get you, you will be grounded for the next two weeks. In that time, I will throw every single pair of shorts you own in the trash so you have no choice but to wear pants anymore. Also, you can kiss your phone goodbye.”

  I listened to the two of them argue from my driveway and wondered if I should wade in.

  However, with Conleigh not being my daughter—because if she had she would’ve known better than to try to get away with wearing those shorts outside of the house—I had no say so in what was said or done.

  Instead, I chilled, waiting for the fight to sputter out.

  “Mother, boys sexualize everything. Why should I have to wear pants because they can’t control their urges?”

  See, here’s where I realized that Winnie didn’t actually know that I was there, otherwise she wouldn’t have said what she said next.

  “Are you dense?” Winnie snarled.

  “No.”

  “I think you are.”

  “I don’t think I am.”

  “Well you are,” she said. “Why? Because it has nothing to do with boys not controlling themselves, and everything to do with the fact that it’s something that both sexes do equally.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Because I can’t help but look when things are blatant either, and I’m an adult,” Winnie snapped. “Just yesterday, Steel walked out of his house without a shirt on, wearing a pair of thin workout shorts. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t wearing any underwear because I could see every single piece of his junk. Even though I knew I shouldn’t look, I did anyway. Why? Because it was there. I couldn’t help it.”

  Her daughter didn’t know what to say.

  “So let me ask you this. If Steel had gone into your school wearing that, would you look?”

  “First of all,” I said from my side of the driveway. “I wouldn’t be wearing that to work. And second, I was, in fact, wearing underwear, but thanks for being concerned.”

  Winnie’s mouth dropped open, and her entire face flamed as she looked over at me.

  Conleigh started to laugh.

  “But she’s right,” I continued, causing Conleigh’s laughter to cut off abruptly. “You wear stuff like that to school, then all the boys are going to look. You’re cheapening your worth by wearing it. And, unfortunately, boys will be boys. Just like, if a guy wore what I did the other day—while working out I might add—then the girl would be looking, too.”

  Conleigh sneered.

  “You don’t know how it is.”

  “I know that your mother told you that you couldn’t wear that to school,” I explained gently. “And I know, had I said the same thing to my mother when I was growing up, my father would’ve put me down on the ground.”

  “Well, you’re not me,” she said. “And parents aren’t allowed to hit their children. It’s against the law.”

  Conleigh’s eyes moved to me for confirmation.

  I suppressed the grin that wanted to break free.

  “Actually,” I said. “That’s up to the parent’s discretion. There is a fine line between beating your children just for the hell of it, and using corporal punishment as a form of discipline.”

  She hissed at me, causing my smile to widen.

  “Fine.”

  Then Conleigh stormed off, leaving us to stare at each other across the street.

  “That was fun,” I teased.

  Winnie flipped me off.

  I burst out laughing.

  She turned her back on me, then whipped back around and started marching my way.

  It’d been exactly a week since we’d been home. A week and a day since I’d had her tight, willing body wrapped around my stiff cock.

  She came to a stop directly in front of me, her arms crossed over her chest.

  “Are you still married?”

  My grin quickly fell.

  I knew what she was asking.

  Hell, I knew what she was thinking.

  I’d been thinking it, too. A lot.

  Every single time I saw her get out of her car and walk inside her house…every single time I watched her come outside for something.

  It was fucking torture.

  I wanted her back in my arms, even though it was the last place in the world she should be.

  Little did I kn
ow, in twelve short hours, that my entire stance on having her in my arms would change in a single heartbeat.

  “Any status updates at least?” Winnie pushed.

  I grinned and leaned forward, tucking a stray hair that’d escaped from her slouchy, messy bun on the top of her head behind her ear.

  “Lizzibeth is being…difficult,” I finally hesitated. “She’s decided that she wants half of my estate, one car, and half of my money—including half of my retirement. Oh, and she also wants alimony.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You’re shitting me.”

  I shook my head, the rush of anger surging inside of me. “’Fraid not.”

  Winnie’s hands fisted and she stared. “I don’t even know what to say to that. Why was it okay before for her to not have any of those things, but now it’s suddenly something she wants?”

  I shook my head. “We were married for like a week. I brought all of my shit into the relationship. She moved into my house. She had her job, I had mine. We kept our own accounts, always had and would. I had two cars when we married, and she had her one. Hell, I don’t even think I’ve ridden in her car before.”

  Winnie’s face turned calculating.

  “Well…” Winnie said. “If she can play that game, so can you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She has a house, doesn’t she?”

  I nodded. “We never sold it. She lives a couple of towns over in a cute little bungalow house with about two acres on it. Horses. Stuff like that.”

  “Well, I think you should lay claim to those horses, and the house.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want horses. I wouldn’t know what to do with fucking horses.”

  “Does she know that you don’t like horses?”

  “Well,” I hesitated. “No. The one and only time that she asked me to ride with her, I was called in to work and got out of explaining to her that I was kinda halfway scared to get on one. She hadn’t asked again, and I’d taken it as a blessing.”

  “She likes her horses?” Winnie guessed.

  “I can only assume so. She went home every single day to check on them despite having moved in with me and having a neighbor watch after them for her. When I asked her to sell them, she had a mini panic attack.”

  “She likes them,” Winnie confirmed. “Tell her that if she gets half of your stuff, you get half of hers. Make sure to specifically mention horses. Oh, and maybe mention to her that it takes a lot of money to have horses. They require a lot of upkeep. Meaning that she’s not hurting for money. What does she do for a living?”