My Kinda Mess - eBook

by Lacey Black

  My hands come up to frame her face, which allows me to angle her slightly to deepen the kiss. Our tongues clash and lips devour in what is probably the best fucking kiss of my life. And when her hands grip my back, her nails biting into my flesh. Christ, it takes every ounce of control I possess to not throw her over my shoulder and find the nearest bed.

  But I don’t.

  Instead, I gently slow the kiss down, nipping and licking at her plump lips until we’re both breathless. “Oh, there will definitely be more kissing,” I mumble against her lips.

  “Definitely.”

  With Herculean strength, I break the connection of our mouths and just stare down at this incredibly beautiful woman. This gorgeous woman who, for some amazing fucking reason, decided she likes me. Me. The dirty mechanic from the wrong side of the tracks, who doesn’t trust people very easily because he’s been shit on by too many to count. The bartender who’s working extra shifts to pay off a debt that isn’t his own. The loner who found hope in the prospect of starting a family of his own with a woman who steals his breath every time he sees her.

  It’s hard to believe it, but she picked me. We’re in this together.

  “I’m going to head home,” I tell her, running the pad of my thumb along her lower lip.

  “Okay,” she whispers. “Thank you for tonight. I had a great time.”

  “Me too,” I confirm. “I have to work all weekend between Stapleton’s and Lucky’s, but I’ll swing by when I can,” I add, taking a step towards the door.

  “I’d like that.”

  She gazes up at me with big, trusting eyes, and suddenly, I can’t remember why I should leave. I want to stay and hear her laugh and do some more of that kissing. But I know I shouldn’t. We don’t have the week deadline anymore, so there’s no need to rush this. Our plans to give her a child will move forward, even if they’re delayed slightly. Slow and steady is the way to go here.

  Except…

  My feet move before I can stop them and she’s in my arms once again. Lexi wraps her arms around my neck and braces for impact. Instead of allowing my greedy lips to devour her, I keep the kiss soft and gentle. I savor the taste and feel of her, I commit the scent of her to memory so that I have something to keep me company until I can see her again.

  She mewls against me, a sound that goes straight to my cock, and I know it’s time to end the night. If I don’t, it’s bound to end up exactly where I want it to: bed.

  Placing one last sweet kiss against her lips, I pull away and head towards the door. When I turn back around, her eyes are closed and a soft smile spreads on the lips she’s touching with shaky fingers. She opens her eyes and gazes my way, a look that lets me know that she’s just as affected by the kiss as I am. I mentally throw my fists in the air victoriously.

  “Night, Lexi.”

  “Good night, Linkin,” she whispers.

  My body is charged as I slip into the hallway and head towards my door. A cold shower is on the agenda for tonight, that’s for sure, but something tells me it still won’t help alleviate the throbbing in my pants. Nothing is going to help after that kiss.

  I let myself into my apartment with a smile on my face and hope in my chest. I have big plans for Miss Lexi Summer.

  But first, I need to have a little chat with douchey Chris.

  * * *

  I use my lunch hour to run over to the office building where Chris Jacobson works. It’s on the main drag, only a few blocks away from the flower place Lexi’s oldest sister runs. Parking my old Blazer on the street, I’m hit with Christmas music piping from speakers beneath the awning of the gift shop as soon as I set foot on the sidewalk.

  A bell dings as I step inside the brightly lit office with a tabletop Christmas tree displayed and garland hanging from the ceiling. An old desk is situated in the center of the room and is currently unoccupied. Not waiting to find out where the receptionist is, I head down the hallway, looking for the douche’s office. I pass an empty conference room, a supply room with a copy machine, and a small kitchenette.

  At the end of the hall, I come to a door that sits ajar and raise my hand to knock. Before my knuckles connect with wood, I hear voices from within the room.

  “I’m asking you politely, boy, to reconsider. You’re making it worse,” an older gentleman says.

  “I don’t want this.” This voice I recognize as Chris’s.

  “But she does. And you dragging your feet is upsetting her.”

  “I can fix this, I know it.”

  “Not anymore, you can’t. It’s over.”

  “But…”

  “No more buts. She wants out. She deserves to be happy. The only thing standing in the way of that is you.” There’s a dramatic pause and I find myself holding my breath. “Let her go. Sign the papers.”

  Suddenly, it all falls into place. Orval is in there with Chris doing, well, the same thing I came to do. But he’s doing it the proper way. I was planning on using harsh words and my fists, if necessary.

  “I love her.” The man who used to belong to Lexi sounds so small, so defeated.

  “I know. I do too, and that’s why I’m here. She needs this, Chris. Let her go. Set her free to live the life she wants.”

  “I was giving her everything. We had a home, nice cars. Hell, I was planning a surprise vacation to Fiji. We had everything,” Chris says softly.

  “Did you really?” There’s another pause. “Sign the papers, Chris. Please.”

  I don’t hear anything for several tense seconds over the blood pounding in my ears. And to top it off, I’m probably going to be discovered lurking in the hallway because my own heart is as loud as a fucking snare drum.

  “Thank you,” Orval says, followed by the scraping of a chair against the tile floor.

  Instead of giving them the opportunity to find me, I quickly backtrack to the front door and slip out into the crisp December air. When I reach my truck, I lean against the passenger door, wishing I had a cigarette. And I don’t even smoke.

  “How much did you hear?” My attention is pulled to the elderly man in front of me with a twinkle in his eye and a sly grin on his face.

  “Not much,” I answer. “Did he see me?”

  “Naw, I distracted him with talk about his latest award on the wall as you slipped out the door,” he says, nodding towards the sidewalk.

  Without a word, I quickly stand up and fall in line beside him. Orval moves surprisingly fast for a man his age, which only reinforces the stories I’ve heard from his granddaughters. “I’m down here,” he says, nodding towards the new Buick up the block.

  After a few moments of silence, he finally speaks again. “So, what brought you to the financial office of Chris Jacobson this afternoon?”

  Deciding honesty is probably the best route with this man, I say, “Probably much of the same as you. But with more violence.”

  That makes him snort. “Oh, believe me, son, I would have loved to have popped him in the mouth a few times over the years, but I learned a long time ago that not everything can be settled with your fists. Chris just needed someone to politely prod him along in this whole divorce mess, and since the happiness of each and every one of my granddaughters means more to me than anything, it was time to make the visit.”

  “He sent her flowers. I was going to ask him to stop.”

  “My Emmy got her hair done this morning and Lexi mentioned the flowers. She said Chris is dragging his feet still on signing the divorce papers, and I realized that he would just continue to do it until he got what he wanted.”

  “And what’s that?” I ask, stopping in front of the car.

  “Her.”

  My throat tightens and suddenly it’s hard to breathe.

  “Not that she would take him back. She wasn’t happy. I’m not one hundred percent sure what he did, but they’ve been on the fritz for a while now. Hell, it could have been a bunch of little things that all piled up. He never came w
ith her to anything, never spent any time with her. The boy worked nonstop. It was sad.” I don’t tell him what Lexi confided in me that night she was drunk.

  “But you, son, you make her happy. I see that sparkle in her eyes that had long dimmed, and for that, I thank you.”

  I shift my weight from foot to foot, not really knowing what to say. I’ve never been on the receiving end of too many compliments; let alone what feels like approval from a family member of a girl I’m seeing. “It’s my pleasure to make her smile.”

  Orval nods and walks around to the driver’s door. “Be sure that her smile never fades,” he says as he opens the door. I get ready to return to my truck when I hear, “Oh, and Linkin? Make sure you keep extra rubbers in your wallet. If she’s anything like her grandmother, I couldn’t keep enough of those puppies on hand. Ravenous, that woman is. Do you know that one time we actually got it on during a church picnic? Yes sir, the pastor was giving a tour of the new Bible study room when we snuck off to inspect the plumbing in the mechanical room. My Emmy convinced the pastor that we were praying hard in there, which is why the room was filled with her screams of ‘Oh God!’”

  “Wow, that’s…something I probably could have lived without knowing,” I mumble, a little overwhelmed at the direction this talk has taken.

  “All I’m saying is that when the lady wants it, it’s our duty to give it to her.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I add, taking a retreating step towards my vehicle.

  “Nice seeing you, son,” Orval hollers before sliding into his car.

  I wave before returning to my truck, a little extra spring in my step. I can only hope Chris will actually take the advice of Lexi’s grandpa and quit stalling the divorce, because I’m afraid the next step is a conversation with me.

  And I don’t think that one will end as friendly.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lexi

  I’ve been home from work for maybe fifteen minutes when a knock sounds at my door. It was a crazy busy Saturday with several walk-ins trying to squeeze in a quick cut, color, or whatever before Christmas. Even though I had a full schedule, I was still able to add two kids’ cuts and help a frazzled mom who tried an at-home dye kit the night before.

  It didn’t turn out so well.

  When I open the door, I find the world’s ugliest Christmas tree. “What the hell is that?”

  Linkin steps inside the entry, forcing me to step aside to let him and his tree in. “It’s a Christmas tree.”

  “That’s the ugliest, saddest tree I’ve ever seen,” I retort as I shut the door. “Charlie Brown would even be embarrassed by this tree.”

  Linkin’s inside the living room, positioning the tree, which is already nailed to a wooden stand, in front of the picture window. “Apparently, the selection isn’t so great when you wait to buy a tree until the week before Christmas.”

  “Why did you buy it?” I ask, shaking my head at what can only be described as a small tree with only four branches.

  “Because you didn’t have one,” he states matter-of-factly as he turns the tree to display its best side.

  Of which there isn’t one.

  When he turns, his dark chocolate eyes find mine, raising my blood pressure and making my body hum with excitement. Before I even register that he’s moving, Linkin stands before me, towering over me like a giant, and takes me in his arms. I wet my lips without realizing it just before his own lips come down and claim mine. It’s a slow, gentle kiss, but I still feel it clear down to my toes.

  “Hi,” he whispers, pulling back slightly.

  “Hey. You bought me a tree.”

  “I figured you should have one.”

  “It’s kinda ugly,” I say with an easy grin.

  “True, but she has potential. Here,” he says, turning and grabbing the paper bag he had under his arm when he came in.

  “What’s this? The fire extinguisher for when this bad boy goes up in flames?”

  “No, Negative Nelly, it’s your decorations,” he says, tapping my nose.

  “You bought me decorations?” I ask, unable to mask the surprise.

  “Actually,” he starts before clearing his throat and looking a little sheepish. “No. I couldn’t find anything left at the store that wasn’t crap, so I made a call.”

  “You made a call?” ask, reaching for the bag. “Like, to your people?”

  “Yeah,” he says as I pull homemade construction paper garland out of the bag. “My mom helped my brothers make some ornaments and garland-y stuff to hang from the branches.”

  I pull the brightly colored chain-linked paper from the bag, smiling widely as I go. When I reach the end of the garland, I pull out several homemade ornaments. There are many paper swords and even a few plastic Army guys tied with string. It melts my heart.

  “That’s very sweet of you, and them. Thank you,” I say, pulling him in for a hug.

  “Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold.”

  “Your secret is safe with me,” I tell him, but suddenly it feels like I’m talking about more than just his soft side. It feels deeper, and even though I don’t know much about Linkin, except what he shows on the surface, I feel like I’m safe with him. And I’m not just talking physically.

  “Come on,” he says. “I have about forty-five minutes before I have to head over to Lucky’s. Shouldn’t take us longer than,” he glances at the sad tree up and down, “five, six minutes tops to decorate this beast of a tree.”

  I grab the garland and join him in front of the tree. “No lights?”

  Linkin shakes his head and lowers his voice to a whisper. “No way. I bet if you even breathe the word match that it would ignite.” Standing up tall, he adds, “And since the only thing I plan to ignite is your loins, I figured I’d leave the twinkling Christmas lights off.”

  His comment makes me roll my eyes. “Such a man,” I grumble.

  Linkin takes me in his arms again. “All man, baby. One hundred percent, pure…man,” he grunts, biting my earlobe and sending a shot of lust racing through my bloodstream.

  “Come on, Firecracker. Let’s get her decorated before I need to leave. If we hurry, we’ll have time for more kissing,” he adds with a wink before reaching for the end of the garland rope.

  More kissing?

  Well, you don’t have to tell me twice.

  * * *

  “He brought you a tree?” Jaime asks, a princess doll in one hand and a Cabbage Patch Kid in the other. “Which one?” she adds, directing this question at Payton.

  “She has a million dolls,” our oldest sister says, giving Jaime a look.

  “You’re right. I’ll get her both,” Jaime coos, referring to Dean’s daughter, the only child in the family, and places both dolls into her cart. Turning towards me she adds, “Don’t ignore the first question. He brought you a Christmas tree?”

  “He did,” I confirm, dropping a hairdresser play set I found one aisle over into the cart. It’ll go great with the apron I found online and had embroidered with her name across the front. I smile just thinking about that purchase; it matches the one I use in the salon.

  “Stop buying her more toys!” Payton exclaims. “We’re going to have to add onto the house to fit all of her new things.”

  “That’s probably not a bad idea,” Jaime adds. “Wait ‘til you see what Grandma got her.” Jaime smiles mischievously, a wicked little gleam in her eyes brightening her face.

  “What do you expect, Pay? She’s our first niece,” I acknowledge, not even trying to hide the small stuffed cat I just found amongst the display of stuffed dogs.

  “I get it,” Payton concedes. “I went a little overboard myself. Back to the tree.”

  “It the barest, ugliest tree I’ve ever seen,” I confirm, unable to hide the smile on my face. “And his little brothers made the ornaments.”

  “Why don’t you have a tree?” Payton asks, trying to steer us away from
the toy aisle.

  “I left everything at Chris’s. Honestly, I didn’t really want it. I pretty much left everything except my personal belongings and a few things that were mine before we moved in together.”

  Following behind my two oldest sisters, I continue, “You know, that’s why I don’t really understand why he’s dragging his feet on the divorce. We waived the mandatory six-month separation. I didn’t ask for anything. I left him all of the furniture and everything. I took my car, which I pay for, and asked for him to buy me out of my half of the house. We split the checking and savings accounts and the investments that he made on our behalf. Anything in his name is his. It’s the cleanest, tidiest divorce. All he needs to do is sign.”

  “I don’t get it,” Jaime agrees.

  “Anyway, I’m going to ask my attorney to follow up with his once more, but heading into Christmas, it might not be as quickly as I’m hoping.”

  “At least you can have the sex with your hot neighbor until all of this blows over,” Payton adds with a wide grin, using the terminology that Grandma uses when referring to sex.

  I quickly turn my attention to an aisle end cap, desperate to look anywhere but at my sisters. They’ll read me like a book.

  “Lexi?” Jaime says slowly. “Tell me you’re having the sex with your gorgeous neighbor with abs you could lick chocolate syrup off of.”

  Clearing my throat, I turn to face the two women who helped raise me. “We haven’t had sex yet.” Yet, being the keyword.

  “Seriously?” Jaime exclaims at the same time Payton hollers, “What?”

  “How can you not be having the sex? The way that man was looking at you that night he stripped, I’m surprised you aren’t taking a ride on the bologna pony every day!”

  “Would you stop saying the sex?” I beg my oldest sister.

  “And don’t ever say bologna pony again,” Jaime adds.

  “Sorry,” Payton says, waving her hand. “We’ve had to be careful what we say around Brielle, and I figured asking for a ride on the bologna pony was a hell of a lot better than begging Dean to fuck me against the wall.”