“How? I actually texted with this guy the other day and he doesn’t seem willing to stop giving out my number.”
His eyes widen. “You talked to him?”
“Yeah, it was… well, let’s just say that he got caught red-handed.”
“Ha! I bet that didn’t go over well.”
“No, it didn’t.” I chuckle because it is kind of funny. Not for what I’m going through, but that this guy thinks he has everyone fooled. And apparently he does, at least for now. “A girl he’d been with had texted me, I didn’t tell her she had the wrong guy then she saw him somewhere but he apparently didn’t see her. She texted me, she noticed that he wasn’t the one texting back. I felt terrible. He had no remorse.”
“Hmm.”
“That’s all you have to say?”
“The only way to stop it is to let these women know from the beginning that they have the wrong number and hope he stops. Text him again and let him know you’re done with this and move on.”
“I don’t know that he’ll care what I want.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But you won’t know unless you try.”
“True.”
“So what else is new?”
“Not much. I’m getting ready to remodel the master bath. Got some ideas yesterday.” I gaze at the door, thinking back to yesterday’s adventures with Sierra and all the ideas she had for me. I have plenty of space to include a huge tub even though I’d originally not planned on it. But the way Sierra kept hopping into them and pretending to relax with a glass of wine makes me want to rethink my plans. Maybe someday there will be a woman living there who would appreciate it.
“What’s that?” Dad asks, pointing at my face and bringing me back to the present.
“What?” I ask, wiping at my face.
“Not going to be able to wipe that look off your face, son.”
“What look?”
He stares at me so long I begin to squirm then nods once. “You’ll tell me when there’s more to tell.”
I chuckle and look away, pick up a pen and fiddle with it then shake my head laughing. “How do you do it?”
“You came to me before your first kiss. I know you better than you know yourself, Jack.”
Some people might not like that, to be so transparent to a parent. But that’s not me. I consider my dad one of my best friends and I’m proud of it.
“Anyway, what’s up with you?”
He lets it go, not pushing me and sticking true to his earlier comment about knowing that I’d tell him when there’s more to tell. Only thing is, there won’t be more to tell. Sierra didn’t tell me much about her guy, but her face lit up when she mentioned him so my guess is she’s not thinking about me the way I’m thinking about her.
“It’s been a month between visits and I missed your face. Thought maybe I could get a few rounds in this afternoon and maybe we can grab dinner.”
I nod in agreement. “Sounds good to me.” Dad and I have boxed together since we met. Boxing was always something Mom and I did together then he walked into our gym and slowly he joined me in my workouts as well. I started boxing with my mom after we left my biological father. He was always hot and cold with her but the older I got, the more I noticed his temper affecting the way he acted toward her. The night that he took his temper too far and it became physical, she and I left.
For months, she was scared out of her mind that he’d find us so to help her realize how strong she was, I started boxing with her. She learned self-defense techniques but it was more than that. She learned what she was worth. That’s part of the reason why my boxing gym is so important to me. It’s not just about working out and staying fit or beating people up, as I’ve heard mentioned a few times. It’s about discovering how both physically and mentally strong you are.
“Ready to see if your old man’s still got it?”
“Always.”
Twenty minutes later we’re standing in the ring sweaty and a little (okay a lot) out of breath, continuing to spar with one another. Dad is still in excellent shape, so much so that we often draw a crowd when we get into the ring together. He’s quick on his feet, has a pretty damn powerful punch, and enough energy that it makes me think he downed a few Red Bulls before he arrived.
“You gonna let your dad best you?”
“Watch out, Jacky Boy! Your daddy’s about to whoop your ass!” I hear shouted and laughter from everyone.
“Take him down, James! You got this!”
“Is no one on my side?” I shout, gasping for breath and jabbing with my right.
“Nope! Not a chance! Stop fighting like a girl, Jack!” comes a chorus of responses.
Dad grins at me through his mouthpiece and I throw a jab that he dodges like the expert he is. Then he lifts his hands and taunts me a little, encouraging me to continue.
“You really are cocky,” I mumble as best I can through my own mouth piece.
“Awesome, you mean?” At least I think that’s what he just said.
“Sure.”
We spar for a little bit longer while the members of my gym make fun of me and tease me that I’m getting beat up by a man over twice my age. Which isn’t technically true, but I don’t correct them because I’m currently trying to maintain my ability to breathe.
I hold up my hand and spit out my mouthpiece into my hand and say, “Damn, old man. You’re in good shape yet.”
Dad smiles but then pulls a funny face. I wrinkle my brow as we both climb out of the ring and suck back some water, stumbling into the locker room.
“Holy shit, I’m gonna die,” he groans, throwing himself to the floor.
I do a double take down to where he’s lying on the floor, moaning and holding a hand over his heart.
“Dad?”
“Dad can’t talk right now. Please call back when he’s not having a heart attack.”
“What the hell?” I want to laugh but I’m also a little scared that he’s in actual pain or trouble. “Are you okay?”
“I may or may not have allowed my pride to get in the way of my abilities.”
Now I do laugh. “Stubborn,” I mumble, shaking my head.
I extend my hand down to him and help him stand. “Maybe next time go easy on me, yeah?”
“I’ll do my best,” he jokes, using a towel off the bench to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “Damn, getting old sucks.”
“You’re not old.”
“Tell that to my body. I won’t be able to move the rest of the week.” More groaning and whimpering can be heard before he stands up straight and shoots me a cocky grin. “Got ya, didn’t I?”
“What the hell?”
“I’m not sore. Your father is in perfect condition. Better than you, it seems.” He does a few stretches, arms above his head then lifts his shirt and pats his flat stomach. “See? I’m practically a thirty-year-old with how good of shape I’m in. Just ask your mother.”
“Gross.”
He laughs and I narrow my eyes and see his nose twitch, a sure sign that he’s lying.
With a loud laugh, I throw my head back. “I don’t even know how to deal with you anymore.”
He moves to sit down then seems to think better of it and leans against the lockers. “I like to keep things interesting.”
“That you do. Don’t you want to sit down?”
“I won’t get back up.”
“Come on. Let’s go get you a protein shake.”
He points a finger at me and mock gasps. “Don’t curse in front of your father.”
I press my lips together to keep from giving him the satisfaction of making me laugh. “Sorry to offend you.”
“You should be,” he teases and changes his clothes back into what he was wearing when he arrived. He’d put on a pair of basketball shorts and it didn’t escape my notice that a few of the women in the gym did a double take when they saw him without a shirt on.
“Real food, son. Where should we go?”
“What are you hungry for?
”
“Doesn’t matter as long as I don’t have to drink the meal.”
“So picky.”
He shrugs a shoulder and checks his phone before sliding it into his front pocket. “My cross to bear.”
I sigh and breathe out a laugh. He’s something else.
“Need to stop at my office first then we’ll head out.”
“Gotcha.”
I grab my coat and phone from my office, Dad leaning against the door checking his phone again.
“What’s up with the phone?”
“Huh?” he asks, not looking up, fingers flying across the screen.
I step closer to him and he still doesn’t take his eyes off… “The phone, Dad. What’s up? You’re never glued to it like this.”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
He looks up at me and quickly puts his phone away. “Nothing. Let’s go.”
I cross my arms over my chest and plant my feet. “You come here, surprise me, pull me into the ring, and almost kill both of us because you need to blow off some steam,” I tell him with a raised eyebrow, daring him to argue with me which he doesn’t so I continue, “and now you want to go eat something and you won’t stop staring at your damn phone so tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Your cousin Harper is frustrated and has been texting me about it for some reason.”
“What’s going on?”
“She’s been with her boyfriend for a while now and she wants him to put a ring on it, her words, and she thinks he’s taking too long. One of her friends told her to give him an ultimatum so she did and it didn’t settle well. Now they’re fighting.”
Harper is the baby of the family and to say everyone is a little protective over her is an understatement. “And she’s talking to you because going to her big brothers or me wouldn’t result in anything pleasant?”
He shrugs. “Probably. She asked for my opinion and I let her know that guys don’t do ultimatums. So now she’s upset that she listened to bad advice. And I feel bad for her because she’s hurting. I don’t like seeing her upset ever, but especially over this. And I really don’t like lying to her. Or her dad.”
“Uh, what are you lying about?”
“Grayson has been planning to propose for a few months but uh… he’s terrified to ask Barrett for her hand in marriage because Harper’s also pregnant. He came to me at Balance and hoped to talk it out. His uncle Walker was with him and couldn’t stop laughing.”
I bark out a laugh as we move toward the door to head out for lunch. “Barrett’s going to flip when he finds out everyone’s been hiding this from him.”
“Right? I can’t wait to see his face and Grayson is scared shitless.”
“Does he know that Barrett wouldn’t harm a fly?”
“Of course he doesn’t.”
“So you going crazy in the ring earlier was more about being scared of Barrett’s reaction when he finds out you knew all along?”
“Of course it was.”
I say goodbye to the few people in the gym and Dad and I walk out to the parking lot. I climb into his passenger seat, still laughing over the fact that Harper is trying to hide something from her dad. Then… “Wait, does Aunt Tess know?”
“Nope,” he says, grinning and puts the pickup in drive. “Burgers?”
“Sure. Sounds good. And your sister is going to kick your ass, you know that, right?”
“It’s going to be awesome.”
It doesn’t take long to get to the small restaurant that’s a local favorite for burgers and fries.
After taking our seats, we each place our order quickly. The waitress has barely turned her back when he has his hand out, making a give it to me motion.
“What?”
“The phone. I want to see this.”
“No. No, you don’t. Some of the women have sent pictures.”
He sits back. “And you didn’t delete them?”
Crap. I probably should have.
“It’s not like I go back and look.”
He gives me a look. The Dad Look. The one that has me shrinking in my seat and feeling like a teenager again.
“Okay, okay, I get it. Time to put a stop to it.”
“Damn right it is.”
Conversation moves to a discussion about my remodel and new recipes he’s trying out at his restaurant Balance.
Our burgers come and we dig in.
“Well, well, well. Eating junk food again, Jack?”
I turn at the sound of Sierra’s voice and can’t stop the smile that takes over my face as she pushes me over and slides in next to me in the booth.
“Dad, Sierra. Sierra, this is my dad, James.”
Sierra reaches over the table and shakes my dad’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” they exchange. After she pulls her hand back she turns to me with wide eyes and not so quietly whispers incredulously, “This is your dad?!” I lean back in my seat and take a deep breath. I’m used to this reaction when people meet him. According to my mother, he looks like he belongs on the cover of GQ rather than small town Michigan. And based on the way women of all ages stare at him, I assume there is some truth to it.
“In the flesh. And how do you know my son?”
“Wow. Good genes,” Sierra murmurs.
I don’t explain that I don’t carry any of his genes in my blood.
She steals one of my fries without asking then takes a sip of my Coke. Dad watches on in amusement when I tell her, “Help yourself.”
“Thanks. So what are you two up to? Just having lunch?”
“Dad came to the gym this morning because he missed me so much he couldn’t stand it any longer.”
“Aww.”
“I’m sweet like that.” Dad grins like a dork.
“All right. Enough of that. What are you doing here?”
She points to my food and reaches out to take a bite of my burger. The one I’m holding in my hand. “Eating, duh,” she mumbles around a mouthful of food. My food.
“I like this one,” Dad says, continuing to eat.
Sierra looks at me with a wide smile, practically preening as she shimmies in her seat and I roll my eyes, scoffing.
“Great,” I mumble. “So… what are you really doing here? Besides eating my food?”
“Well, I did come here to eat. It was just a bonus that I found you.”
“Missed me already, huh? Admit it, you followed me.”
It’s her turn to scoff.
I grin and shove my plate closer to her so she can continue to munch away on my fries. She doesn’t shy away for a second.
“So, Sierra. Tell me about yourself,” my dad requests gently.
She pauses with a fry suspended in the air and her mouth hanging open. “Well, I live about an hour from here but have been visiting my uncle Kyle for a week.”
“And what is it you do when you’re not visiting your uncle?”
I sit quietly, wanting to know as well. Sierra and I haven’t talked much about her and I’m curious.
She blushes and pulls a face, wrinkling her little nose that says she’s delaying saying anything more. “You’ll think it’s dumb.”
“Try me,” Dad says, not hiding his amusement.
“I make things and sell them online.”
“Things?”
Sierra sighs. “Don’t make fun but I make special outfits for pets and sell them online. Some I do custom for special requests.”
“Let me see,” I ask, nudging her with my elbow.
Another sigh. “Fine,” she grits out playfully and hands me her phone after swiping to open a folder in her photos app.
I look through picture after picture of dogs and cats dressed up in outfits that range from wedding dresses to Superman costumes. I must admit, as over the top as these pets look, they’re not only hilarious but also cute as hell. “A Wonder Woman bulldog might just be the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.” I turn the phone so Dad can see and he laughs heartily.
&nb
sp; “That’s great. Damn, I love the world we live in. That you can make a living making animals look like humans.”
“Right? I love it. It’s so much fun and allows me to be creative. It suits me. It might sound silly to some,” she says with a sadness in her voice that makes me swallow hard. Some isn’t just a blanket term. It’s someone in particular, I just know it. “But to me, it’s perfect. And it makes people happy, too.”
“What more could you want?” My dad smiles at her and we continue to chat and eat. Our waitress comes over and asks if Sierra would like anything and she orders a plate of fries before promising me that she won’t share hers.
Sierra explains how she got into making clothes for pets; that she was messing around one day dressing up her boyfriend’s dog (we won’t talk about how much I hate being reminded that she has a boyfriend) for Halloween and after posting pictures on Instagram, she started getting requests. Within a few months, her little side project had become a business.
The more she talks about it, the more animated she becomes and it’s impossible to miss the passion she feels. Her hands are waving in the air and her voice has gone up a few octaves. Dad and I can’t get a word in edge wise — can’t even ask her questions because she’s talking so fast. I’m leaning an elbow on the table with my body angled toward hers, listening intently as she goes on and on about a poodle she dressed up in black leather and the owner was some badass Harley rider. She could hardly get the words out when she was explaining how shocked she was when the owner sent her pictures of the two of them together. Her melodic laughter was contagious.
The fact that I just called her laughter melodic sends a flood of worry through my veins. I like Sierra far too much for a girl who’s made it clear she has a boyfriend. For a girl who doesn’t live around here, and rather with someone.
“So tell me about Jack as a young boy.”
“My dad adopted me when I was seventeen.”
“Huh? Oh! I just thought…”
“It’s a long story, but Dad and Mom met when I was sixteen.”
She doesn’t push for details, rather asks, “Okay then, Jack as a teenager. Was he a pain in the ass?”
The Other Guy: A Textdoor Neighbor Romance Page 6
