Road to Them: The Road Series Book Two

by Erica Andrews

  Jerking my head up I stumbled over my words. “What’d you say?”

  She pointed down to her feet. “My shoes, they’re hot I said.”

  I nodded my head to agree, not wanting to admit to her being the first woman over sixty who I had seen wearing them. “Very hot.”

  She smiled sweetly at my comment but continued to question me. “So, did he, cheat I mean?”

  I glanced about at the circle of women shamelessly staring at us . Waiting for my answer. I knew if I wanted to be in this group, then I needed to share. And weirdly enough I wanted to be here. So, admitting to myself what I wanted, I let out a long breath and admitted the truth.

  “Yeah, he did.”

  “Bastard.”

  “Douche nozzle.”

  And on it went around the circle with expletives naming what my ex-husband was and the many ways he could do things to his anatomy. Some I wasn’t sure were possible.

  I decided after the last insult, something to do with a meat pole and Lucifer, to break in before it got worse, which to be honest I didn’t know how much worse their mouths could get. “This is a book club right, I thought we were going to be discussing books. Not exes and meat poles.”

  I mean...ewww.

  The sister to my left who I assumed was Prude, patted my hand, as if to placate me, and quietly spoke, almost in a whisper, “Oh, honey we discuss books, but this also gets us away from our families once a week. So, we discuss everything. Plus, the books we read aren’t actually PG.”

  I turned slightly in my chair. “What do you mean not PG?”

  The one sitting beside Betty, Iris I thought, answered in a very calm tone, “They’re very hot dear, some people just can’t handle our kind of books.” I took in what she said, a little baffled that the lady who reminded me of an older Florence Henderson was hinting at reading rated R books. Dressed in navy slacks and a cream cardigan she sat there talking calmly about what I believed could possibly be erotic books.

  I gauged the women before me, trying to figure out if they were serious. “Are you telling me you basically gossip and read erotica all week?”

  “Pweh, erotica, hell no!” Grabbing her shot glass Betty downed the rest of her drink slamming it down on the table. “What we read, allows us to feel ten years younger. We got book boyfriends, that no man could ever measure up to. And believe me”–pointing her finger at herself and the others–“we’ve been around the block a time or two.” She looked over at Gertie and eyed her. “Or three or four.”

  Gertie clutched her hand to her chest, gasping out, “You take that back you saggy tittie monster!”

  Betty kept her finger pointed at Gertie yelling, “Who was the one in fifty-eight, with the Marlow brothers in the hayfield? It wasn’t me, and you knew I had a crush on them!”

  “We didn’t do anything, you naggy twat, we fell asleep, that’s all!”

  “Naked?”

  “Enough!”

  I looked at who I was still assuming was Prudence until I was told otherwise, who up until now had been sitting there quietly, except for that brief whisper to me about getting away from their families once week. She surprised me with her low husky voice that should be on the other end of a nine hundred number, not in the body of a seventy something grandmother. Like her sister she was dressed in a simple dress, but instead of basic black it was white. Though where her sister’s dress was simplistic. Prudence’s was almost on the side of indecent, with red heels paired with her showcasing ensemble. I had to rethink the nine hundred bits. Maybe she did have a job there. These women so far were not what I assumed they were at first glance.

  Not realizing my train of thought, Prudence continued, “We’re supposed to introduce her to the book club, not show her how crazy we are. Do you want to scare her off? I thought you said you liked this one?”

  Jumping on the bandwagon, Iris put her two cents in. “Yes, I think you two should apologize and let’s finish talking about Kelly and our new book.”

  Betty rolled her eyes and blew a giant raspberry at the same time. Truly talented. “Alright I’m sorry for saying that you’ve been around the block twenty times.”

  Gertie eyed Betty suspiciously. “You didn’t say I’d been around the block twenty times.”

  Smirking a little, Betty replied, “Oh, well I was thinking it, so sorry for that too.”

  Gertie grabbed Betty’s offered hand and squeezed. “You’re forgiven, Bets.”

  Not letting go of Gertie’s hand, Betty seemed to squeeze harder. “You know I hate that name.”

  Nodding her head Gertie smiled and kept shaking hands. “Oh, I know Bets.”

  “Enough!” Prudence stood and grabbed their hands pulling them apart. “Now stop it so we can interrogate Kelly and pick our book for next week.”

  Still glaring daggers at each other, Betty and Gertie remained silent.

  Iris not deterred by Prudence’s outburst quickly broke the silence with her question.

  “So, Kelly have you met anybody here yet?”

  Of course, this was the question that they started with.

  Slightly uncomfortable with where this was headed, I decide to be vague but truthful. I couldn’t help but be anything but truthful. A horrible trait to have. “Well on the way here, my car actually broke down and a few guys helped me get it towed and checked it out for me. But that’s about it, besides the waitress at the diner and of course Ben, who I’ve been doing kickboxing with.”

  Gertie turned to look at me like she had a nasty taste in her mouth. “Kickboxing, who the hell does kickboxing. I’d go to watch some men do some kickboxing. That’s about all I’d do, or the men, I’d do the men.”

  Not knowing what to say to her basically admitting wanting to have sex with kickboxers, I answered the only part I could answer. “I actually like it, and Ben is super nice. He’s been real patient with me.”

  “Do you like Ben?”

  I turned to the husky voice to my left and smiled. “He’s just a friend.”

  “What about the guys, who helped you out with your car? You like them?”

  I quickly faced Betty, the she-devil, to answer the question. I could already tell that if somebody could pick up on any tells that it would be her.

  “We’re friends, they showed me around town and spent some time with me. To help me get used to everything.”

  There, a nice neutral response. Or at least I thought so. I should’ve known that these perverted women wouldn’t be satisfied with my neutral response.

  “You liked them though didn’t you? What happened, you’re acting vague, nobody does that unless you wanna hide something. Whatcha hiding, girl? Give Betty the juicy details.”

  The women sat there waiting for my response. Damn that Betty. I debated on what to say. I came here wanting to find some girlfriends that I actually could talk to. I just didn’t think they would be this old. Or that they would want me to share so much on the first day of meeting me. Most women I knew floated around each other for months before starting actual conversations, these women just jumped right in. Was this what I wanted? Remembering that I was trying to be the new me, I decided to jump on in.

  I told them everything. I mean everything, the kisses, the talks, and even Camille. By the time I was done each woman had picked the team they were on. Not surprising Betty was for team Damon and told me to talk to him and get the whole story. Iris was for Kasper because she said the best man was a quiet man. And finally, the sisters both decided on Dean, because what’s better than laughter.

  Not expecting them to pick a side, or care this much about my love life, which made me slightly uncomfortable, I did the only thing I could do. I changed the subject.

  “So what book are we reading this week?”

  Betty smiled, she knew I was dodging. “Well dear, this week we’ve decided on The Vixen’s Lead.”

  I nodded my head, though I personally had no clue why we were reading about a female fox. But the girls looked excited about the book.
<
br />   “Okay, can I rent it at the library, or do I need to get it online–”

  Betty laughed. “Oh, honey, none of the books we read are probably suitable for a library. If they were they wouldn’t be any fun.”

  Two

  Damon

  Three Weeks Earlier…...

  Where’s my phone?

  My hands jammed deep into the back of my jeans, I glanced about the garage. Damn phone. If Dean moved it, I was gonna kick his ass. He thought he was funny, and Kelly thought he was cute with all his pranks, but I hated them. And he knew it, which meant that the motherfucker moved it just to piss me off. Then either record my reaction for shits later, or hid and watched while I looked like an ass searching for my phone that was not moved but taken by the dickweed in the first place.

  I walked over to the only workstation, the only place I would have put it down. Everything else was either a car or tool box that could be wheeled around or moved. And what idiot would put their phone on the car?

  Goddamnit where was it? It was right here.

  That fucker better hope he didn’t mess with my shit. Small pieces clanked and dinged on the floor as I rummaged around hoping that it was here. This work table was fucking messy. And you could say all the fucking stereotypes you wanted about guys being messy, but the truth was that two people did work here and shit got messy. Oil and grease got everywhere and we got too fucking busy to stop and fucking smell the roses. Let alone clean it.

  More paperwork and car parts fell in the floor as I lifted and scattered things around the work area.

  Shit.

  It usually sat in my desk drawer all day or amongst the scattered piles of paperwork right here.

  I needed my fucking phone. And I had finally gotten to the point of admitting why I needed it so bad.

  Kelly.

  I didn’t care anymore. Weeks ago I fought this weird thing between us...but now. Well I think I was done for just like the other two. Which was why I stood here looking like a dumbass trying to find a phone that was probably hidden from me in the first place. I could also admit that I had grown to enjoy the everyday mundane texts between all of us. I mean, I rarely typed anything back to them, but I always checked. And they didn’t know that the back and forth between the three always amused me.

  Wait.

  The desk drawer.

  I left it in the office.

  Goddammit. This girl had my mind screwed up. Now I questioned everything I did. And now I looked for a phone that until a few weeks ago I barely used. Now I cared what someone thought. Well I cared what she thought.

  I wished I could holler at Dean to bring the phone to the garage, I still needed to finish this car, but I couldn’t focus as long as I still wondered where my phone was and what everyone was saying. What she was saying. But he’d left to pick us up some Chinese about ten minutes ago.

  I’d never admit to his face but it was easier when he’s here, at least then I could blame shit on him. Like the phone. Not able to focus I closed the hood on the car, knowing that until I got my phone nothing was going to get done. I had no choice but to go check in the office. Work was officially put on hold, all for a phone and girl. And I couldn’t tell if I minded.

  I mean I had a choice, but did I really? Now I needed my phone on me constantly. Now I worried about feelings and what others might think about how I said or did things. And it was for a girl that I hadn’t even told that I liked her, yet.

  God, I was pitiful.

  The main door to the garage clanged loudly as I made my way to the office. Hmm, maybe we needed new doors. Ones not quite as loud.

  Something sharp clacked across the old dingy cement floor, causing echoes of the sound to bounce off the walls in the hallway.

  Heels? I knew what heels sounded like, I’d spent enough nights hearing them in the different bars that I used to frequent.

  Who the hell wore high heels to a garage? Dean should have put the closed sign out before he left. And it wouldn’t be Kelly, she rarely wore heels. At least I hadn’t seen her in them a lot. If anything I rarely saw her out of those damn skater pink sneaker things. Whatever they were. I knew they were pink. That girl liked pink too damn much.

  The office door creaked, reminding me it needed oiling as I stood in the doorway, trying to control my temper.

  My father was a great dad, one of the best, who drilled into me and Dean to never hit a woman. And to never let your temper rule you. Now, I wasn’t great at controlling my temper but I’d never laid a finger on a woman. And I never intended to either, but sometimes a certain woman could test that patience and put my father’s rule to the test. It was this same kind of woman that sat poised now over the front of my desk, my phone held in her red fingered claws.

  Camille.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Camille? Put my fucking phone down.”

  After tapping something off with her red nails, she raised her eyes acknowledging me. Instead of being worried at being caught in my office with my damn phone she smiled like the fucking cat that ate the fucking canary. As if putting on a fucking show. Who the hell was she? Barnum and Bailey?

  Slowly she sat my phone back on the desk, making a show of straightening her tight ass skirt. I fought to control my eyeroll. Ever since a pint size woman came into to my life, I’d found I preferred sneakers and tight jeans, to short ass skirts. Unless it was her wearing them. I found that now that I had Kelly, my eyes didn’t drift anymore. My focus was her.

  Oblivious to what I was thinking, Camille continued to smile, as she made her way slowly towards me.

  “Damon, I was just waiting on you. I figured we could talk, while you looked at my car. It’s making some strange noise.”

  She stopped mere inches in front of me, placing her red talon clawed finger on my chest with the tip of it digging into my skin.

  Looking down, at the red polish that I once found sexy as fuck, I discovered that now I hated it, and the pink that I complained about hating so much, I found I seemed to prefer.

  Her nail dragged down my chest, stopping right above the snap of my jeans. I snagged her hand forcefully, using it to push her away.

  She stumbled slightly, in her needle thin high heels, catching herself against the wall.

  How disappointing.

  When I didn’t offer to help, she narrowed her eyes at me as I walked around her to my desk hoping to put what space I could between us. My eyes stayed on hers as I settled down in my chair, waiting for the viper to strike. Glancing down quickly I see my phone in the center of my desk I grabbed it, putting it in the drawer without looking. I’d look later, after the viper had left with whatever fucking broom she came in on. Now I just had to get her out of here. Whatever Camille wanted, it was trouble. Plain and simple. She had my phone, for how long I didn’t know. Even a second in her claws meant nothing good. But patience was supposed to be a virtue, so I’d bide my time and wait till she was gone to try to fix what damage she had done. Because with Camille there was always damage.

  “What do you want Camille? And it’s not the car, so quit bullshitting me. We both know you want something. Though what the hell it could be, I don’t know. So what is it?”

  Her face remained calm. A picture of serenity really. I should be impressed by how well she kept her real façade hidden, instead of showing her real reaction to being brushed off. Camille if anything was vain. With her serene expression still in place, she pushed off the wall walking back towards the desk then sliding onto the top of it. Hands out in front of her she held them up, “You caught me Damon, you’re right, there’s nothing wrong with my car. But I did want to see you about something.“

  She turned slowly, where her legs now faced in front of me. With her eyes on mine, she slowly uncrossed her legs, pausing slightly, hoping, I was sure, for me to check whatever was underneath the purple dress she wore.

  Any other time I would have. Hell, two months ago, this would have gone a lot differently. We both would be naked, and I’d have
no regrets. Consequences be damned. But, I had changed. Kelly had changed me. I was better, because of her.

  I crossed my arms in front of me, my gaze steady as I forced the issue she clearly wanted to skirt around. “What is it then? Cause we’re done Camille, I mean if you really need help maybe you should look to all the guys you’re dating. You seem to have them wrapped around your finger.”

  She nodded her head, leaning forward. “Oh, I do, Damon, I do have them wrapped around my finger. But this is only something you can help with. Well you or Dean that is.”

  She wanted a brother fucking sandwich.

  Opening my mouth to tell her where she could put her mother fucking brother sandwich, I stopped.

  Before I could speak, I heard the familiar sound of someone pulling into the driveway. I wasn’t expecting anyone with a drop off today. I still had two cars in back up I had to finish. It had to be Dean.

  “Camille, look I think Dean’s here, so you gotta go. Ask one of your boy toys to do whatever it is that you need. Cause I’m done.”

  She looked behind me at the window replying silkily, “Oh, you’ll help me, you just don’t know it yet.”

  Before I could ask what the hell she meant, Camille slipped from the desk falling ass first into my lap. Her legs quickly wrapped around the chair trapping me against her, grinding her core against me.“What the hell Camille, get up, you bitch!”

  Ignoring me she trailed her hand down my face letting it drop to my chest. With a smile she leaned in whispering, “Told you that you would help me.” With that vague comment she cut her eyes sideways, I followed her gaze and the air left my lungs.

  Kelly.

  There she stood with Duchess. Watching us. Watching….me.

  Shit!

  I shoved Camille hard. Not caring how bad she was bruised, just caring about the girl at the window. I ran to the door in desperation to get to Kelly. To stop her. To explain that it wasn’t what it looked like. To understand. To listen. To not leave. I paused at the door, looking back at Camille, “You better be gone when I get back Camille, because me and you both know that I’m not a nice man even to the sweetest of people. And you Camille are not sweet.”