Hold On

“Yes,” she snapped.

“Then I’ll just have to give him a handshake and slip him a hundred dollar bill next time I see him.”

“He got into trouble for that, Merry. You cannot give him money,” she returned.

“Then when he suddenly has the cake to buy a couple new video games, just sayin’ now, he didn’t get it from me.”

“This isn’t funny,” she retorted. “The ends don’t justify his means.”

“Cherie, sweetheart, your time was up. I was givin’ you a week. It was Wednesday. It was a week. I’m pleased as fuck you apologized, you meant to send it or you didn’t. But it wouldn’t matter. You’d be in that fucking amazing dress in my truck on the way to dinner with me, Ethan sent that text or not.”

Her brow furrowed. “You were givin’ me a week?”

“You told me, you got somethin’ worth fightin’ for, you fight for it. You don’t sit on your ass and wait for it to come to you.”

He actually felt her draw in a huge breath.

But he wasn’t done.

“In that circumstance, I had to sit on my ass and wait for what was worth fightin’ for. I had to give her time. I had to make sure she knew I had time to think things through. So I decided on a week. I gave you that week. And here we are.”

She said nothing, just stared at him seemingly unaware they were stopped at a stop sign, her round ass in his lap in his truck, her arms holding on tight at his shoulders.

He pulled her closer. “Now, your ass is in my lap and I like that. I like it enough, we’re not even a block away from your house and I’m good to go back so we can move forward on what it’s doin’ to my cock. But you look way too fuckin’ good not to show you off. I’m gonna get to what’s under that dress later. It’d be a damn shame that dress comes off this soon.”

He brushed her mouth with his before he finished.

“And I’m hungry.”

“I’m hungry too,” she said softly.

“Right,” he muttered, gave her a squeeze, then slid her off his lap and into her seat. “Buckle up.”

He checked the road, hearing her seatbelt catch. It was still clear, so he made his turn. He accelerated, and as he did, it occurred to him Cher had it right.

If they dealt with the shit on the way to the restaurant, they could spend their time at Swank’s enjoying it.

So Garrett took her lead.

“Okay, Cher, think you had the right idea puttin’ shit out there right away, so I’ll give you what I got so we can get it done and then just have you and me at Swank’s.”

He felt her eyes on him when she asked, “What do you got?”

Honest to God, he had no idea what her reaction was going to be to what he had to share. What he thought was that this might be a mistake, since it might be better if he could see her face in case she tried to hide any reaction.

Or it might be good that reaction was contained in the cab of his truck where she couldn’t try to escape from him.

“Mia wants me back.”

He didn’t need to see her face.

He felt her reaction.

It was forceful, so he reached out his hand, found hers, and was not surprised when she resisted his hold.

He held tight, dropping their hands to her thigh.

“That’s not gonna happen,” he said quietly.

She didn’t respond, so he quickly glanced her way to see her face was tight, eyes staring fixed out the windshield.

“That’s not gonna happen, Cher,” he repeated.

“Right,” she mumbled disbelievingly.

“Been fuckin’ her since we got divorced.”

Her hand spasmed in his.

“She’d come to me,” he went on. “She’d do it not frequent but regular. She says now that was her way of makin’ the first move toward reconciliation. How she thought I’d catch that when she came to get a dose of my dick and most the time was gone before I woke up, I have no fuckin’ clue. But she came again last Wednesday.”

“Fuck me,” Cher whispered.

“I turned her away.”