Page 12 of Other Woman Drama (Content Advisory #4)

Ten

I think I might be a bitch.

— Silver to Webber

WEBBER

I was tired.

Honestly, when I opened my door, I fully expected Devney to still be sitting where I’d left her last night.

Luckily, she wasn’t there, and I was able to get to my bike without incident.

Last night had been god awful, but only because Devney didn’t know how to take no for an answer.

She’d shown up unannounced, angry as hell that I’d ignored her all day, and I’d finally snapped.

The day—which had been shitty as fuck and long—had gotten the best of me and I’d lashed out at her in anger.

I’d told her I didn’t want to see or hear from her ever again, and she’d caused a big enough scene that the cops were called by the neighbor.

Luckily, one of the beat cops that I knew was the one to show up, and he informed Devney that she’d need to keep her voice down or she’d be arrested.

Seeing as I lived on the edge of a subdivision with an HOA on five acres, though my house was not part of the HOA, they liked to treat me like I was.

They tried to enforce their HOA guidelines—like their noise pollution guides—onto me all the time. When I didn’t comply, they’d call the cops.

Technically, I shouldn’t have had to deal with it at all, seeing as Devney was a full-grown adult.

However, for this one time, I was thankful to have the cops show—and coming from a man who didn’t want cops in his business like I did, that was saying something.

Needless to say, Devney quieted down.

I went inside.

But she didn’t leave, insisting that we had something to talk about.

We didn’t.

The breakup was a long time coming, and I should’ve done it a couple of days ago at the Mexican food restaurant we’d been at instead of waiting because I didn’t want to deal with her bullshit.

The ride to Webb’s was pleasant.

The heat of the day hadn’t fully set in yet, and it was a cool seventy-eight degrees out.

I waved at a couple of bikers that I didn’t know when I stopped for a coffee from the gas station, and pulled into Webb’s fifteen minutes after I’d left my house.

The only reason I’d purchased my house was due to its proximity to Webb’s and Eedie’s mom’s place.

I hated the location. Hated being so close to the city.

But I had wanted to make sure that I was in the same school district as Eedie in case she ever wanted to move in. Since she decided to move in with me, it would be possible for her to keep going to the same district.

I waved my hand at Hush as I pulled my bike into the spot next to the office door.

Hush worked with me part-time.

Well, really he worked with me when he didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts.

He may not talk to us much, but he sure the hell was always there when you needed him, and he listened even when he didn’t have much to say.

That only made the stuff he did have to say all that much more important.

“What’s up?” I asked as I surveyed the donut in his hand.

He jerked his chin to the very back of the shop—my space—and said, “I let our girl work on her car. She said it was the timing belt. I asked her if she needed help, and she said no.”

My brows rose and my gaze traveled to my station where I somehow knew who “our girl” was.

I’d let her work here before, but usually I was out of my shop at the time.

Having her here when I was supposed to be working was a huge, massive, gigantic impossibility.

I could physically not work when she was near.

At least, not efficiently.

Mostly because when she was, she was wearing stuff like she was wearing right now.

She was bent over the front of her shitty car, and all I saw were long legs for days.

Her ass was high in the air, covered in the shortest pair of shorts that she likely owned. Which had me wondering if she did this to me on purpose.

If she knew what she was wearing killed me.

I couldn’t see her top half because she was bent into the top of her car, but the bottom half.

My god.

Even the old, ratty tennis shoes didn’t detract from her outfit.

Fuck, those tanned, toned thighs went on for days.

“Fuck,” I groaned.

Hush laughed. “Thought you might say that. Wait until you see the top.”

Right then, she stood up and had the remains of her old timing belt in her hand, and she was inspecting it.

I got the good look of her top half, and my tongue nearly rolled out of my mouth.

“Fuck,” I repeated.

She was wearing a cutoff shirt.

Normally, the cutoff shirt wouldn’t be a big deal.

I’d only see a sliver of skin.

But this time it wasn’t just the sliver of skin that I could see.

The sleeves of her shirt were cut off, and most of her bra could be seen through the gaping holes the sleeve cutting left behind. Her bra had cut-outs in it, dotting even more tanned, beautiful skin.

“Jesus Christ,” I said as I took in the whole package.

Even with her hair haphazardly piled on top of her head in a messy bun, no makeup, and grease all over her, it didn’t detract from her beauty.

She was gorgeous and breathtaking.

“You should go for it.”

I glanced at Hush, who had yet another donut in his hand. “What do you mean?”

“Webber, don’t play dumb,” he said. “We all know you want her. We all know why you started dating that bitch, Devney. I also follow the police band and know that cops were called out to your place because of a domestic dispute last night, which I suspect was you breaking up with her finally and her throwing a fit.”

I snorted.

“She’s not going to stay single long,” he pointed out. “She’s a great girl and isn’t scared of our life and our lifestyle. Ask yourself, how bad would it fucking hurt to see her with another man? Having his babies. Holding someone else.”

That didn’t just cut, it killed.

“Where’d you get the donuts?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

Hush smiled. “Our girl.”

I growled, took two donuts, and walked toward the woman that was taking up way too much space in my thoughts.

I came to a stop next to the side of the peeling red Grand Am and leaned my hip against her car.

I watched, enraptured, as she deftly fit the new belt into the pulleys.

“You need any help?” I rasped.

Her shoulder muscles were pulling and bunching as she grumbled under her breath, and I watched her struggle for a few seconds longer before I bent down and helped her reach the part of the belt that she’d been struggling with.

She breathed a sigh of relief when it was in place, then looked up at me. “Thanks.”

“You need any help?” I repeated.

“Uh.” She looked at the work she had left to complete, then said, “Well, kind of. I guess. I told your daughter that I would go to the four o’clock class today at Jiu Jitsu, thinking that I’d get it done in time.

But then I realized they sent me the wrong belt, so I had to call them and get them to bring me another one.

But then they took four years to get it here.

But she also said that she’d be okay waiting for another day.

But she seemed really excited to do it today when I called her about an hour ago… ”

“Jiu Jitsu?” I asked.

“Yeah, didn’t you give her permission to do that?”

“Well, yeah,” I said. “But I didn’t know you did it.”

“I started it when I could afford to pay for the classes about two years ago,” she answered. “I love it.”

I loved Jiu Jitsu, too.

That was why I recommended it to my daughter.

Though, I hadn’t realized that Eedie was going off participating in classes.

“I wanted her to go to my friend’s gym,” I said.

“Which one?” she asked, standing up and leaning a hip against her car.

“Slow Roll next to that cookie place,” I said. “It’s…”

“That’s my gym.” She beamed. “That’s the one I told Eedie to go to.”

“My gym, too,” I muttered. “You’re Castle’s second prodigy?”

Castle, the owner of Slow Roll, had been talking about his second prodigy for a while.

He thought the girl—though he’d never given me her name—had been the best there ever was. He’d talked about her a lot and said how much potential she had.

She’d zoomed through all his classes, and had the chance to go pro if it hadn’t been for her lack of desire to go pro.

Castle had been devastated, because that was the second woman he’d thought could go somewhere in life—the first being his daughter, Shaw—that hadn’t wanted to.

Castle was a BJJ—Brazilian Jiu Jitsu—expert and had the highest of the high qualifications. He’d been a professional MMA fighter since he was a teen and had taught everyone everything he could. He loved the sport that much.

“I can’t believe he calls me that.” Silver flushed a beautiful shade of pink.

I wanted to taste that shade with my tongue.

“He’s proud of you,” I said. “He wanted—though past tense would mean he doesn’t still want that for you—you to go pro.”

“I know,” she sighed. “It’s just that…that’s not my calling. I love the sport, but that’s just not what I want to do with my life.”

I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “What is it you want to do?”

I was dying to fucking know.

I wanted to know everything about Silver Donahue that there was to know.

She flushed. “You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“No, I won’t,” I promised her.

She sighed. “I want to be a stay-at-home mom. I want to have lots of babies. I want to treat them the way my mom never treated me. I want to cook dinner for my husband every night. I want to live on a farm with chickens and pigs, and bake sourdough bread, and hang my clothes on clotheslines. I want to be Suzy Homemaker.”

My brows rose. “Really?”

She sighed. “It’s a pipe dream. I’ll never be able to do that. It’s just that’s what I want to do with my life.”

And all of a sudden, I could see it.

I could see myself riding my bike down a dirt road.

I could see myself pulling into a driveway and seeing my kids running out toward me.

I could see my wife—Silver—standing on the front porch with another baby in her arms.

I could smell the scent of fresh baked bread.

I could see it all—what my life would be like with Silver—and I wanted it.

Badly.

She turned around, giving me her back, and said, “I’m almost done here. Just a few more bolts to tighten.”

I came to lean against her car to watch her work, my eyes taking in her tiny hands as she fit it into places that my huge hands had no hope in hell of fitting.

“I could use you around here,” I mused as I watched her work. “That would’ve taken me fifteen minutes longer just because my fingers can’t fit there.”

She smiled at me over her shoulder, and I felt something in the vicinity of my heart squeeze.

God.

That smile.

Always that fucking smile.

“I’ll go with you,” I said. “I was going to get a workout in today, anyway.”

Her head tilted at the sudden change of direction our conversation had just taken.

“How have I not seen you there?” she asked.

“Because you work nights, and I work days,” I pointed out. “When I’m there, you’re probably sleeping. I try to go during lunch when Castle can get some time to himself.”

“You know him well?” she asked as she pulled back, her pink-tipped wrench in her hand catching my eye.

“I know him pretty well,” I said. “He’s been teaching me since I was old enough to think I was invincible.”

“Are you his ‘protégé?’”

I grinned. “No, that’s his daughter. I’m just the man that’s the same size as him, that he can beat up and not feel bad.”

She snickered. “I’m done. I just need to put my tools away.”

I helped her clean them up, then leaned against my toolbox as she started her car up.

It worked perfectly, which shouldn’t have surprised me but it did.

“I fuckin’ hate that your dad was the one to teach you how to do something I love,” I grumbled when she got out and walked toward me.

“If it makes you feel any better,” she teased as she reached for her tool box. “My granddad was actually the one to teach me. My dad only took advantage of my services until I was old enough to stand up to him.”

I gritted my teeth to keep the words that I wanted to spew about her dad inside my mouth.

To distract myself, I took the toolbox from her and walked it to her trunk.

I dropped it inside and grinned when I saw the boxes in her back seat.

“That’s a lot of Girl Scout Cookies,” I mused as I reached for a box of Thin Mints.

“Those girls know what they’re doing when they stand inside the grocery store entrance,” she grumbled as she reached for a cookie.

I smacked her hand away and said, “Your hands are covered in grease.”

She scrunched up her nose. “They’re my cookies.”

“They might be,” I agreed as I reached for one and brought it to her mouth. “But consuming grease can’t be good for you.”

She ate the whole cookie, her soft, pink lips brushing the tips of my fingers before we both pulled away.

“Yum,” she said. “I haven’t eaten yet today.”

“Do you usually eat before you roll?” I asked.

“No.” She grimaced. “I’m a lightweight. I get hot, and I get sweaty. I get sweaty, and I start feeling nauseous. It’s best not to have anything in my stomach that’ll come up looking gross on the mats.”

I snorted and reached for another cookie, holding it out to her. “You want to ride with me?”

“I have my bag.” She looked crestfallen.

“I’ll strap it down,” I said. “Come on, let’s go.”