Page 47 of Mr. Infuriating (Mister #1)

Gabe

We got a quarter of the cabinets removed by the time eight forty-five rolled around.

“Let’s call it a night,” I suggested.

“Good idea,” my brother grinned. “That leaves me just enough time to go home and shower before things pick up at Flannigan’s.”

Gretchen was busy sweeping up drywall dust from the floor. I didn’t have the heart to tell her she was wasting her time. There’d be another mess in the morning when I came back.

“Thank you for your help, Beau,” she said with her sweet smile before bending over to sweep the pile into a dustpan. And yeah, my gaze lingered on her ass as she did.

“Happy to help.” My brother looked at me and motioned toward the door with his chin. “Walk me out?”

Oh shit.

I wondered what I’d done that he wanted to talk to me alone.

As we walked along Gretchen’s sidewalk toward his car parked behind my truck, I remarked, “Sheila sure is pretty.”

Sheila being his red 1970 Chevy Chevelle SS that seemed to shimmer under the street lights.

“She should be with the amount of time and money I’ve put into her.”

“Spend your money now, little brother, ’cuz once you get married and have kids those days will be over.”

“Yeah, we’ll see. Although I don’t think I’ll mind spending my money on a wife and kids.”

“You won’t.” I paused, then continued. “Hey, you think you can swing by here tomorrow and give me a ride to Brayden’s game?”

“You don’t want my help tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’d love the help, but are you sure you don’t mind? It’s a lot harder work when you’re hung over.”

“I don’t mind. And I’m only planning on having a few beers. Hopefully, that’s all the time it will take to meet someone.”

Ah, to be young and single again.

“Wrap your shit up tight, dude.”

Beau gave me a grin. “Always do,” then he unlocked his car but didn’t move to open the door. “Derrick’s right, you know. Gretchen’s your soulmate.”

I snorted out a laugh. “How can you say that? She and I barely even talked while you’ve been here.”

“You talked enough. I don’t know. You two just seem to click, like you’re on the same wavelength. The way Mav and Olivia are. And don’t get me started about the way you each look at the other when you think no one’s paying attention.”

“I mean, I can’t deny we have chemistry, but—”

“You’re allowed to be happy, Gabe. It’s okay to fall in love again. Why not do it with someone who’s beautiful and has a nice ass?”

I raised my left eyebrow at him. “First off, you talk about her ass again at your own peril.”

My brother just shrugged unaffected, and I continued. “I know I’m allowed to fall in love again, and maybe someday I’ll meet someone. But it’s not Gretchen. She needs someone who’s going to build a treehouse for her son.”

Beau gave me a wicked grin as he opened the driver’s door.

“Good thing you already have one built in your backyard.”

I shook my head.

“She’s young. She wants more kids.”

My brother looked at me like I was an idiot as he got behind the wheel.

“So, marry her and knock her up.”

He said it like it was so obvious and easy.

If only…

“I’m too old for that shit.”

His key was in the ignition, but he didn’t turn the engine over.

“That’s too bad, because she deserves someone amazing. I just hope you pull your head out of your ass and realize that could be you before someone else snatches her up.”

Seconds later his V8 roared to life, and he closed the car door, then cranked down the window.

“What time tomorrow?”

“I dunno. Probably around nine, but I’ll have to double check with her to make sure that’s not too early to get here.”

He broke out into a smug grin.

“Or you could just spend the night.”

I rolled my eyes and made a shooing motion with my hand.

“Get out of here. And tell Derrick I said hi.”

“Will do.” With a mock salute, he backed out of the driveway.

I watched him drive away, unsure of what my next move was.

*** *

Gretchen

Watching Gabe work had gotten me all hot and bothered. There was nothing sexier than a man in work boots who knew what the hell he was doing. Especially when I had first-hand knowledge of how that translated into the bedroom.

My resolve when I was around the man was virtually nonexistent.

I’d be surprised if I made it through this kitchen renovation without throwing myself at him.

That didn’t exactly fit into my “find a new husband and pop out some kids” plan.

Maybe I could just practice the making the kids part. So when I did find my new baby daddy, I’d be ready to rock his world, and he’d want nothing more than to put a baby in me.

God, I was lame.

Why couldn’t I just admit I wanted to have sex again with the hot carpenter? I needed to channel some of Laura’s energy. She’d have no trouble admitting that’s what she wanted and going after it.

The problem was she could get up the next day and not think about the guy again. Meanwhile, I brought Gabe home, granted it was for the entire weekend, and was heartbroken when he ghosted me. And even more heartbroken when I learned why.

But it also confirmed there was no future with him.

I really needed Mr. Infuriating to be a little less likeable now and a lot more infuriating.

*** *

Gabe

Gretchen had thrown towels on her dining room chairs and was seated at the table, enjoying a slice of cheesecake right out of the container when I came back inside.

“We forgot to have dessert earlier,” she said with a flirty smile.

“I think the pizza filled us up.” I opened her refrigerator and pulled a slice from the bag. “Although neither of us had thought to offer any to Beau.”

“We should be ashamed of ourselves. We’re cheesecake hoarders.”

I grabbed a plastic fork from a bag of disposable silverware that she’d neatly lined up next to the paper plates and plastic cups on the hutch she’d transformed into a microwave cart.

Following Gretchen’s lead, I forwent a plate, opened the lid, and took a bite before sitting down next to her.

“Anyone who’s tried Caruso’s cheesecake wouldn’t blame us.”

A small smile escaped her, and I noticed she arched her back a little when she leaned forward.

“How should we decide who gets the last piece?”

She was definitely flirting.

I thought about what Beau had said. She did deserve someone amazing.

I wasn’t that man. I brought way too much baggage to the table .

“We could just split it. Or, we could be nice and offer it to Beau tomorrow.”

Her face fell and she sat back in her chair.

“Yeah, that’d probably be the polite thing to do. Since he is helping and everything.”

She tossed her fork in the container next to her half-eaten slice and closed the lid.

“Besides, this piece should last me the weekend, unless Jake catches me eating it.”

I laughed out loud.

“I have a mini-fridge in my bedroom closet where I hide my snacks I don’t want the kids to find.”

“I’m learning all the tricks. One of my coworkers hides candy in an empty oatmeal container in her pantry, and another puts it in a vegetable bag in the freezer.”

“Those are brilliant ideas. I’ll have to remember that this summer when the kids stay with me for weeks at a time.”

“Is it hard to go from every other weekend during the school year to all the time in the summer?”

“I have them Wednesday evenings, too,” I offered like that somehow made the situation better. “But, no. What’s hard is going from having them all the time to them being gone again. That sucks.”

“I can’t even imagine,” she replied wistfully.

I cocked my head. “What about you? How do you handle it when Jake goes to his dad’s?”

“Oh, he doesn’t. Troy relinquished his parental rights.”

My blood pressure spiked when I roared, “ He did what ?”

Her shoulders went to her ears, then dropped in defeat .

“His girlfriend is like twenty-one. I don’t think she’s ready for kids. And this way he pays the least amount of child support the courts would allow.”

“That’s not how child support works.”

She shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter; I gladly took the deal. I’d rather do this by myself than let him have any opportunity to hurt my son.”

I stared at her in awe. She was even more amazing than I’d realized. If anyone deserved the fairytale, it was her.

But I wasn’t Prince Charming. Far from it. I was old and salty, and set in my ways. Mr. Infuriating , she’d called me.

There were probably a lot of people, especially my ex-wife, who’d agree with her.

She must have mistook the way I was staring at her to mean something else, because her flirty side resurfaced.

“I need to take a shower.” She put her hand on my forearm. “Care to join me? I haven’t shown you how much I appreciate the cheesecake.”

My cock jumped up and down, screaming, “Hell yes!”

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing I’d like more than to join you in the shower; I’ve revisited the memory of the last time we were together in there more than once. But…”

I’m a fucking moron.

That’s the only explanation for how I continued.

“If we hooked up again, it wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

She pulled her hand away and glanced down at the table.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not what you’re looking for. You’d only end up disappointed, and then I’d be left feeling bad that I hurt you.”

Oh, and apparently, I’m a liar in addition to a moron.

Because I wasn’t so sure she was the one who’d end up hurt in the end.