by Whitley Cox
“I can set it up. I can give you his phone number. That way you don’t have to give me yours. And you can text him. I will let him know that I found someone who might be interested in the behavior interventionist job, and she’ll be contacting him.”
“You think texting is professional enough?”
Mark’s head bobbed in agreement while the hair on the back of his neck prickled as the little white lie he’d started to spin slowly began to take on a life of its own. “Oh yeah, totally. He’s a busy guy. Can’t always answer the phone, but always has it on him to text.”
“If you say so.” She pulled out her phone. “Okay, give me his number.”
“Ooooh, you guys swapping digits for a late-night booty call?” Mercedes clucked as she and the rest of the girls joined them back at the table. They had a tray of drinks with them, and soon everyone was downing doubles, all thanks to Mark.
“No, we’re not,” Tori said blandly. “He thinks he might know of a job opportunity for me, and I’m just getting the information.”
Mercedes’s blood-red-painted lips dipped into a pout for half a second. “Let’s do some shots!”
Tori glanced at Mark. Holy hell, was the man gorgeous.
She’d sworn off men for the foreseeable future, but if there was ever a man to bring her back from the dark depths of sad divorcee-hood, it would be this guy. Because, boy oh boy, was he going to spur on some dirty dreams tonight. Probably for all the women. Including the married ones.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered.
His chuckle made the blood run hot through her veins and fire flicker in her core. “I brought it on myself. I’m the one who interrupted ladies’ night.”
“This party wasn’t my idea,” she said, wincing from her strong drink. Holy hell, had Mercedes ordered triples? She was going to bankrupt him.
“Nothing wrong with blowing off a little steam or celebrating.” His green eyes reminded her of the lush hills of Scotland. She’d always wanted to visit. And the way they bored into her made every muscle inside her body clench with need, particularly the muscles between her legs.
“Is that what you’re doing? Blowing off steam?”
Thankfully, Mercedes hadn’t been a complete drunken nut and had been kind enough to order Mark another drink as well. He tipped back the lowball with ice and took a sip. “I was supposed to meet a friend. He’s going through some stuff and needed an ear to bend. But his daughter fell sick, so he had to cancel.”
“I hope she’s okay.”
“I think so, just a cold. It’s that time of year.”
Mark checked his watch. And what an expensive watch it was. He was well dressed too. Nice dark, purple, long-sleeve, button-up dress shirt, black pants, and he had Tori’s favorite accessory of all, scruff. Ken had always preferred to go clean-shaven. He said it itched less under the surgical mask when he was working in the dental office. But Mark had a nice healthy coat of dark whiskers dressing up his strong jaw. They were the perfect length too. Not too long, not too short. Just the right length to cause some whisker burn during a long makeout session.
He ran his hands through his dark hair, then yawned. “I think I should get going. It’s getting late, and I don’t want to intrude on ladies’ night any longer.” He made to get up to leave.
The other women in her group had decided they’d prefer to stand. A couple were entertaining male interest, giggling and swooning, while some were glued to their phones, texting with their boyfriends and husbands.
“Going so soon?” Suddenly Mercedes was right there, her hand on Mark’s bicep, squeezing. “The party is just getting started … thanks to you.”
Mark gently shook her off and grabbed his leather jacket from the seat. “I’m afraid I must. But it was lovely meeting you ladies.” His eyes found Tori. “Particularly you, Tori. I hope you contact Dr. Herron and things with the new job work out.”
Everything girly in Tori tingled. “Thanks. Me too.”
As much as she swore she’d sworn off men, a big part of her didn’t want to see him go. Didn’t want the night, or their conversation, to end.
Should she give him her number?
She was about to say something when he leaned back over, his mouth falling next to her ear. Was he going to kiss her? She inhaled his scent. Holy mother. What was that cologne? The man smelled incredible. Like fresh air and man. All man. All sexy man with impeccable taste and the perfect amount of scruff.
But he didn’t kiss her. Instead he whispered, “It gets better. Right now, I know it hurts. Right now, you hate men. Possibly even the world. But one day you’ll wake up and realize you’re so much better off. It does get better.” Then he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, pulled away, winked, and was gone.
“Wow!” Mercedes said, letting out a whistle, though Tori couldn’t see her. Her eyes had fluttered shut the moment Mark tucked her hair. “I’m pretty sure I just had a mini orgasm.”
Yeah, forget a mini orgasm. Tori was pretty sure she was in love.
2
“Full house,” Mark murmured, turning his cards over.
“Straight,” Zak muttered, shaking his shaggy red head and finishing his beer.
“Ah ha!” Liam, the club founder and owner of the house, turned his cards over. “Royal flush. Read ’em and weep, suckahs!” His dark chocolate eyes gleamed with triumph as he began scooping all the poker chips from the center of the table toward himself.
Adam sat down with a new bowl of potato chips. “What’d I miss?”
“Just our host fleecing the shit out of us … again,” Zak, Adam’s younger brother, grumbled, getting up from the table. “I guess the house always wins.” He shook his head. “I need another beer. Anybody else?”
There were grunts and nods around the table.
“Yeah, because the high-powered divorce lawyer who makes six figures a year needs our money,” chided Scott, Liam’s younger brother, who’d been the first to fold.
“Hey, it isn’t about need—it’s about winning. All’s fair in the game of poker.” Liam grinned, reminding Mark of the Joker from Batman, with his wide and devious smile. “Besides, I’m not the only one bringing in six figures.” He nodded at Mark. “Ol’ Marky Mark isn’t going to notice a dent in his pocketbook.”
Mark rolled his eyes. He loved Saturday night poker. It was a place where he could be himself but also find support and camaraderie, since they were all single fathers.
Liam Dixon, host and club founder, was a divorce lawyer.
Although it was usually a big no-no to fraternize with clients, Liam had found a loophole and once he’d finished with their case, he became their friend. He brought the men he’d represented in court into his club. Men who he knew needed help navigating the messy seas of separation and custody, alimony and child support. And before any of them knew it, they were The Single Dads of Seattle and played poker every Saturday night.
Emmett sat down next to Mark. He’d folded early too and had been in the other room on the phone. His daughter, Josie, was with her mother but didn’t want to be and kept calling Emmett, asking him to come pick her up.
“JoJo okay?” Mark asked Emmett, thanking Adam for his beer with a nod.
Emmett nodded. Mark wasn’t convinced though. There was frustration in Emmet’s amber eyes. It was taking everything he had in him not to jump up from the table and race to his daughter’s rescue. “Tiffany has started dating and, against my wishes, introduced JoJo to Huntley, her new boyfriend. JoJo isn’t happy, doesn’t want anything to do with him, doesn’t want to be there for dinner with him, wants him out of the house.”
Mark frowned. Poor Josie.
Scott grabbed a handful of potato chips. “How long have you guys been separated?”
“Divorced,” Liam chimed in. “That shit was final over a month ago, hence why you’re here. You’re no longer my client. Just my friend.” He was all smiles.
Emmett made a face that had Mark wondering if his friend might be constipated.
“Separated for over a year. But yeah, the divorce was final in November.”
“And how long has she been seeing Huntley? Jesus, what kind of a name is that?” Mark asked.
“Right? That’s what you name a dog.” Emmett grabbed a bunch of pretzels from the bowl next to his elbow.
“It is the name of a dog. It’s the dog from Curious George,” Scott cut in.
Mark made a gesture that said “right!”
“It’s actually Hundley, with a d,” Adam corrected. “Mira loves Curious George. Hundley is her favorite.”
“I love Curious George, too,” Zak added. “Always up to so much mischief, but in the end, he saves the day.”
Mark rolled his eyes. “Kind of like you?”
Zak’s eyebrows bobbed up and down. “I definitely like to monkey around.”
Emmett made a noise in his throat. “Anyway, she told me she’s been seeing him for six months, which was our agreement. We’re not allowed to introduce our kid to any new partner until the six-month mark. But even then, it should be done delicately. This divorce has been hard on JoJo.” He shoved the pretzels in his mouth.
Mark fiddled with the label on his beer bottle. “Is JoJo at least feeling better?”
Emmett nodded, still chewing. He had to shove the food into the side of his cheek to talk. “Sorry I had to cancel last night.”
Mark grabbed all the loose cards from the table and began to mindlessly shuffle them. “No worries.”
“Did you just head home?”
He shook his head. “No. Finished my drink, then ended up spending over a thousand dollars on drinks for a table full of chicks celebrating their friend’s separation.”
All the guys around the table stopped talking, drinking, and chewing.
“You did what?” Zak asked. His divorce had been particularly nasty and was still quite fresh. Much like Tori, he’d sworn off women for a while and was concentrating on expanding his business. He owned three gyms in the Seattle area and was hoping to branch out to another two in the next two years.
Mark lifted a shoulder, continuing to shuffle. It was easier to keep his hands busy. “I overheard the party and felt sorry for her. Her husband made her put her dreams on hold and put him through school, only to cheat on her and leave her the moment he graduated. She worked three jobs to put him through school. Now she has no money to go to school herself.”
“Who’s representing her?” Liam asked.
Mark shook his head and snorted a laugh. “I have no clue.”
“Who’s representing him?”
“Again, no clue. I didn’t ask that. But I did go over and offer to buy them a round.”
“And that was a thousand clams?” Emmett asked.
“I kind of offered to cover their tab.”
“Dude.” Liam clucked his tongue. “That chick better have been a fucking ten or eleven for you to dole out that kind of money.”
“She was … is.”
“You at least get her number?”
He shook his head. “No. She’s sworn off men after the nightmare her ex put her through.”
Zak made a rude noise in his throat. “Been there. I have no desire to date for a very long time.”
“Just do what I do,” Liam started, pointing at Mark to start dealing again for the next round. “Find a hot chick who’s good in the sack and doesn’t want anything serious, and bang her.”
“You still sleeping with Richelle?” Scott asked him.
“She comes over every Wednesday night when Jordie is with Cidrah and we bang until the cows come home. She doesn’t even stay the night.”
“And she’s cool with that?” Mark asked.
“She proposed it. Neither one of us wants anything serious, or to get the kids involved. Too fucking messy. We’ve seen the torture that kids can go through during divorce.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Zak murmured, picking his cards up off the table to look at them.
“It’s how we met. She was on one side, and I was on the other, and we watched as our clients used their children like pawns and bartering chips to get what they wanted. Fucking disgusting.”
“Cidrah tried that with you,” his brother said, shaking his head.
“She fucking tried.”
“Good thing you’re the best in the biz.” Mark snickered.
“And you charge like you’re fucking Beyoncé giving a private show,” Emmett told Liam.
Liam’s grin was wide, and he bobbed his eyebrows up and down playfully. “Don’t I deserve my Audi for getting you shared custody of Josie? Plus, you’re paying half the alimony Tiff was demanding.”
Emmett snorted and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah …” He glanced around at all the other men. “She wanted over six grand a month.”
Adam nearly choked on his potato chips. “Six fucking grand? Not including child support?”
Emmett shook his head. “Not including child support.”
Mark knew all this already, as he and Emmett were close. The men were all okay talking about their cases. This was their safe space. A place they came to bitch, moan, commiserate and speak freely. Ordinarily, Liam wouldn’t have been able to mutter a word about a client’s case, but things were different in the club. These men were family; these men had each other’s backs. Nothing was off the table for discussion. Nothing was off limits.
“But Tiff is a fucking dermatologist,” Adam said. “She makes good coin. What made her think she’s entitled to so much?”
Emmett shook his head. “No clue.”
“Greed,” Liam interjected. “But the fact that she is a doctor and makes good money and also that JoJo is in kindergarten now, so Tiff can work more, brought Emmett’s alimony way down.”
Adam nodded. “That’s good.”
“Not everyone’s divorce can be as amicable as yours,” Liam replied.
Adam made a face that said he disagreed with Liam but wasn’t up for a fight. Adam’s divorce may have been amicable, but it still wasn’t easy.
“Tiff said that because she didn’t get the alimony she asked for, she’s going to introduce JoJo to Huntley however she wants. It’s her retaliation,” Emmett said, clearly distraught about the whole thing. “I know we agreed on six months, and Tiff is abiding by that. But it just feels like she’s thrown Huntley into JoJo’s face. He’s sleeping over, has dinner with them all the time. He’s trying to be JoJo’s best friend, and she’s not having any of it. She calls him a turd.”
All the men around the table snickered, some of them commenting on how much they liked little Josie.
Like Mark, Emmett was a doctor at the hospital. But unlike Mark, who was a radiologist and could do a lot of work from home, Emmett was an ER and trauma surgeon and kept ungodly hours. He had to fight tooth and nail to get shared custody, because Tiff, who was a dermatologist and worked at a private practice from nine until two every day, said his hours didn’t offer stability and structure to Josie. Liam had taken Tiff to town on that allegation, and luckily the arbitrator had sided with Emmett and awarded him equal time and rights to his daughter.
“Let’s get back to the chick at the bar Mark didn’t take home.” Liam nodded at Mark, his dark blond hair falling down just slightly over his brown eyes. “So, what was so special about her for you to drop a grand on her and her friends?”
Mark was smiling. He’d been smiling a lot lately, every time he thought of Tori and that sexy dress with the deep V that would have gotten her kicked out of church. She had to be using some kind of double-sided tape to keep that thing in place. No way was it just staying put and not offering a nip slip without some kind of arts and crafts sorcery.
Liam clucked his tongue. “Look at him. It’s like he’s in a fucking trance.”
Mark rolled his eyes at Liam and placed his bet. “I dunno. There was just something about her. We talked a bit … ” He glanced down at his cards lying face down. “And then I offered her a job working with Gabe.”
“You what?” Emmett w
as the one whose voice was the loudest, for obvious reasons. He and Mark were the closest. Mark had actually referred Emmett to Liam and his law firm for representation. They’d each witnessed the devastation their divorces had on the kids. Emmett was one of the few people Gabe trusted, besides family, and who Gabe was okay being left alone with. And his daughter, Josie, was the sweetest, most patient child in the world when it came to Gabe. She treated him like an ordinary kid. Played and spoke to him as if he were neurotypical and just another buddy at the playground. Even though Emmett and Mark worked together and saw each other most Saturdays for poker, whenever they could, they got together with the kids. Had dinner together, went on outings to the zoo and science center. It was just easier with two parents. Easier with someone who understood.
Mark took a sip of his beer, letting the cool San Camanez Island wheat ale slide down his throat. “It’s not like she’s not qualified. She works with children on the spectrum already and has a degree in child and youth care.”
“Is that what you heard? Or is that what you wanted to hear, and your dick was too busy thinking of ways to get her out of her dress and into the back of your Beamer?” Scott asked, his slightly crooked nose wrinkling just so with his grin and looking even more crooked.
He said he’d broken it like four times in high school while playing football. Mark figured it was his smart mouth that had earned him a couple of breaks. Both the Dixon brothers had smart mouths and were known to speak their mind and piss people off with their lack of filter. Liam more than Scott, but neither of them was the most diplomatic of people.
“Have you done a criminal record check? Called her references? Why does she need a job? Was she fired from her last one?” Emmett continued.
Mark’s gut twisted. No, but he was sure she would come back squeaky clean and with glowing references, he just knew it. At least he hoped he knew it. His friend seemed really perturbed by all of this. It both pissed Mark off and made him happy that Emmett was so protective of Gabe.
“When’s she coming to meet Gabe?” Adam asked, his green eyes seeming to almost glow. His daughter, Mira, was another sweetheart who was so kind to Gabe.