by Jamie Begley
“I can go with you, so you don’t have to go in alone.”
“I would appreciate it. Now, let’s finish your session so we can go.”
“We’re not done?”
“We’ve spent most of the time talking about me. We need to make goals for you, and then we can go.” She had led herself away from the main objective of getting Stump started on his life plan.
“How many do I need to set?”
“I like to start with at least five. Then we can add more if needed.” She picked up her iPad, ready to type in his goals.
“Like, I could be in better shape physically? Shit like that you wanting?”
“Yes, and without the profanity, if possible.”
“Let that be the second goal—to watch my language.”
“I was going to suggest that one.” She eyed him. “I have a few suggestions for you….” Zoey lifted her hand to her scarf when he looked at it as if he wanted to strangle her with it. “How about finding a job?”
“Go ahead and add that to the list, too. And add a new girlfriend while you’re at it since I just lost my last one and you’re celibate, so that lets you off the hook.”
“Thank Buddha,” she muttered, typing the goals into the iPad.
“What’d you say?”
“One more.”
“Oh… How about managing my money? Can you help with that?”
“Yes.” She eagerly turned off her iPad. “We can start first thing in the morning. I’m looking forward to getting started working with you to achieve your goals.” Standing, she reached out her hand to help him up, but he immediately rose. “Aren’t you excited?”
“Sure, if you say so.”
Her excitement faltered. “You don’t look excited.”
“Believe me. I’m so excited I’m crying inside.”
17
Stump yawned as he got off his motorcycle and pulled off his helmet. He was greeted by the sight of Zoey bending down to touch her toes as she stretched, preparing for their early morning jog. Taking his tennis shoes out of his leather saddlebag, he walked to her.
“Good morning!” she greeted him cheerfully.
“Shove it,” he grumbled. “The door unlocked?”
“Help yourself… you always do.”
“Lady, you’re lucky I’m here at all. These early mornings are killing me. Get your ass back inside until I get these shoes on.”
“Ass is considered profanity. Pay up!”
Stump looked at the hand she held out under his nose, about to shove it where it would do the most good, which was the raging hard-on that hadn’t abated since she had taken over his life with those fucking goals she coerced out of him.
The last four weeks had been the most miserable of his life… and the best. She made him get out bed early every day to work out. She charged him five dollars per cuss word—she started out charging one dollar then kept increasing it until he would rather wash his mouth out with soap than pay another five dollars. She made him apply to over one hundred jobs, and even made him go to interviews that he had no intention of taking. He had gone out on twenty dates, none with the same woman. And if he didn’t get laid on the next one, he was going to blow his fucking dick off.
Going into Zoey’s living room, he removed his boots then unashamedly slid his unbuttoned jeans off, revealing the shorts he wore underneath.
“You can take the five out my wallet. It’s in my back pocket,” he replied, sitting down to put his tennis shoes on.
“I’ll wait.”
Stump took his wallet out of his jeans, removing a ten before standing and moving to where she was pretend jogging by the front door.
“Thought I’d save myself the trouble. You’ll have the other five before we get back from the run anyway,” he said, giving her the ten.
“What did I tell you about being positive?” She laid it on a small bench beside the door where she kept her shoes.
“Zoey, I’m going to give you a five-second head start. If I catch you, I’m going to paddle that pert rear end you’re so proud of.”
“You know I can’t outrun you. I have to go slow because of my knee.” She grinned, not taking him seriously.
Each day, she moved a little easier. She still favored the hurt knee, not able to go very fast or far, but she stuck with it despite how tired she became. He never met a more stubborn woman. When she set herself a goal, she stuck with it, no matter the cost. And she expected the same commitment from her clients.
“I know.” He gave her a salacious grin that had her flinging the door open and running outside.
“Lock the door!” she called out through her giggles.
He did, following behind her as she jogged down the sidewalk. As much as he wanted to catch her, he held back, remaining a few paces behind. He could easily overtake her, but he was afraid of what he would do if he caught her.
Since there had been no more flowers or incidents, Ice asked if he thought it was necessary for him to continue watching Zoey. He told Ice that he would give it another couple of weeks, that he felt like someone was watching every move she made, yet he couldn’t explain how he knew. It was just a feeling that he had every intention of heeding. Zoey was too special to let some sicko get his hands on her.
Jackal had shown him and Ice the security footage of the morning she nearly fell down the shaft. The camera hadn’t been pointed toward the elevator, and the police found that it was the mistake of the elevator company doing the service.
“You’re running so slow that a ninety-year-old man with a cane could beat you.”
“Cecil doesn’t count. He’s a freak of nature.” Zoey introduced him to her neighbor when she had badgered him into going with her to the neighborhood gym. The ninety-year-old jogged around the one-mile course while holding his cane in his hand.
It was when Stump had seen him lifting weights that he started getting motivated to reach the goal that Zoey expected him to achieve. He couldn’t let the old man lift more than he could with her watching.
When they returned to her house, he put his jeans and boots back on as she took a shower. Dozing off as he waited, he awoke when she sat down next to him, giving him a smoothie that she insisted he drink every morning.
“Wake up, sleepyhead.” She nudged him with her shoulder as she drank hers.
Taking the plastic tumbler, he took a sniff then quickly set it down on the table. “No thanks.”
“Come on, try it. Don’t be such a stick in the mud. I even put a teaspoon of honey in it for you.”
He picked the tumbler back up and stared apprehensively down into it. “What are those little bubbles?”
“Chia seeds. They’re good for you,” she encouraged, finishing hers.
“Hell no! You’re not suckering me into that again.”
“You’re such a baby,” she quipped, taking his smoothie to drink it herself as she wiggled her fingers in his face.
“I already gave you the five bucks,” he reminded her.
“Come on, Stump, you took it back. Pay up.” She wiggled her fingers faster.
He frowned. “No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. The ten isn’t there. I was going to break it and give you a five back, but it’s gone.”
“Then it must have blown off when we opened the door. I didn’t take it.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you had.”
Her apologetic eyes had him wanting to kiss her.
“It’s okay. I’ll help you look for it.”
“I’ll look for it later.” Patting his thigh, she jumped from the couch. “I’m going to be late if we don’t hurry. I have an appointment with Kristen at seven-thirty. Are you going to the tea tasting tonight?” she asked as she rinsed out the tumblers.
“Fu… no. I have a date tonight. Jackal is going with Penni, so I’m off duty tonight.”
“Oh… I thought you were going because you wanted to, not because you were watching me.”
Hearing the hurt in her voice,
Stump looked at Zoey. Forgetting the ten he had been searching for, he moved to stand at the counter.
“Spending the evening with tea nerds isn’t my idea of fun.”
Stump saw the telltale sign of her bottom lip beginning to quiver and wished he could take the words back. It broke him sometimes when he saw that bottom lip quivering. He was a battle-hardened biker—there wasn’t much he hadn’t seen or done—but when that damn lip quivered, it made him want to do anything to make it stop.
“I’m not into the fresh cut teas. Next week is the oblong teas. I’ll like it much better.”
“You’re sure? I wouldn’t want you to go if you didn’t want to.” She lifted soft, hazel eyes to his.
“I’m sure. I wouldn’t go if I didn’t want to.”
“You called them tea nerds.”
“They kind of are… but I didn’t include you with them,” he added, trying to dig himself out of the hole he dug himself into. “You’re not snobbish over tea the way they are.”
Drying her hands, she nodded. “You’re right; they are kind of tea snobs. Penni isn’t either, though,” she said, coming from behind the counter and grabbing a granola bar from a drawer. “You want one?”
“No thanks. I’m full.” He had been suckered into those, too. They tasted like tree bark.
“No, you aren’t. You haven’t eaten anything. I’m not leaving until you take something to eat for when you get to the office. I have some yogurt parfaits in the fridge—”
“Are there any chia seeds in it?”
Flushing, she closed the refrigerator. “How about a box of raisins?”
“That I’ll take.”
She happily went to the cabinet, taking out a large box of raisins. “You can eat some for lunch, too. They’re good for you.”
“Zoey, I’m eating a hamburger for lunch.”
She gave him a smirk as she slid a dark pink wrist wallet on, unzipping it to put her key inside. When she curiously put fingers inside, the key caught on something and she pulled out a ten.
“That the ten I gave you? Are trying to slide one past me?”
She smiled, shaking her head in dismay. “I must have forgotten.”
“I’m glad you found it. I’m still ahead five dollars.”
“Two dollars and fifty cents. You almost slipped and said the F word.”
“You’re charging me when I never said it?”
“It’s the thought that counts.” Winking, she went out the door. “Lock the door behind you. I don’t want to be late to meet Kristen.”
Stump gritted his teeth, watching her sashay out. If his thoughts counted, he would have to stop at an ATM. He owed her a shit ton of money.
Taking his helmet off, he got off his bike, seeing the clubhouse parking lot was empty. There were usually a couple of bikes outside, and when he left to go on his date, the club had been full, the brothers hanging around, watching a game on the television. He’d never seen it so empty.
Opening his saddlebag, he took out his gun that he had put in there before going meeting Maria at the restaurant. Placing it in the back of his jeans, he covered it with his T-shirt before going inside.
His mouth dropped open at seeing Zoey sitting on the floor, playing with Hannibal.
“What are you doing here?”
“Penni asked if I could watch Hannibal tonight. Her brother and his wife came into town, and everyone went to Penni’s house to see them. Don’t be mad at me. I told Penni you would be upset. That’s why I offered to come here to watch him. I didn’t want you to think I was dognapping him again.”
Stump squatted down next to her, staring into her anxious eyes. “I’m not mad.”
She gave him a bright smile that punched a hole into his heart with a force that drove the air out of his lungs.
“How did your date go?” She lowered her head as she asked, her hair falling forward and concealing her expression.
“It sucked. She ordered spaghetti.”
She tugged at the bone that Hannibal was playing tug of war with, digging his little feet into the floor for traction. “What’s wrong with spaghetti? I love spaghetti.”
“Watch Maria eat spaghetti, and you’ll never eat it again.”
She laughed, looking around the clubhouse. “You live here?”
“Yes. You want to see my room?” Rising, he held his hand out, helping her to stand so she wouldn’t jar her knee.
“I would love to.”
He led the way, opening the only door that was closed. Flicking the light switch on, he let her enter first. Then he leaned against the doorway and watched as she walked around his room.
“It’s larger than I thought it would be.”
“The other rooms are the same size. Ice made sure of it when he had it built so none of the brothers would argue over who had the biggest room. Each one has their own bathroom, too.”
“How many of your friends live here?” she asked curiously, turning back to face him.
“Twelve or thirteen, depending on which ones currently have an old lady or break up with one.”
His nuts tightened when she trailed a caressing hand over the blanket on his bed, walking past it to reach for a book that was on the shelf by his bed. He used it as a night table, and it was easily accessible when he couldn’t sleep.
“I wouldn’t.”
Zoey jumped as she was about to reach for the book. “Why not?”
“I don’t think it’s your normal reading material.”
She dropped her hand. “Oh….”
“Yeah.” His lips quirked in a smile when she moved away from his bookshelf.
“Well, I better be going. My jogging partner has trouble getting up in the morning.”
Stump moved aside to let her through the doorway, but she stopped before she passed him.
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Shoot.”
“Why is your nickname Stump?”
Usually when he was asked that question, he would make a joke about his dick, but he knew she would run screaming.
“I was born in Oregon. The brothers nicknamed me Stump because I was a logger before I moved to Queen City.”
Her eyes brightened in interest as she reached out to grip his bicep. He had to steel himself not to react to her touch.
If any other woman had touched him like that, he would take it as flirtation, but with Zoey, he knew it wasn’t. She had an insatiable curiosity, not only for life but other people. She couldn’t help herself. She wanted to touch and feel anything she came into contact with, as if what she was touching gave off vibes like people did.
When he had started jogging with her and saw the way she tried to avoid Creed, he asked her why. Then, when she explained auras, he thought she was as looney as hell, but the more she explained that people had either positive or negative energy, he had to admit she was on the money where Creed was concerned. He still thought it was a bunch of crap, but she believed it, so he was willing to play along to not hurt her feelings.
If anyone told him two months ago he would pander to woman’s idiosyncrasies, he would have told them they should check into getting a mental evaluation. Now, it was a different story. He consoled himself that at least Zoey wasn’t as out there as Penni, but she was a close second.
“Do you miss Oregon?” she asked, keeping her hand on his arm.
“No, the winters are better to deal with here.”
“I imagine. Can I ask what your real name is?”
“Asher Stewart.”
“Your name suits you. Asher means happiness. Did you know that?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Now I know why I liked you on sight. You have a powerful red aura, and your name means happiness. That explains why I’m so drawn to you.”
He had to swallow hard to keep from pulling her into his arms.
“What color is your aura?”
She stared back at him impishly. “Guess.”
He took his time, looking h
er over from head to toe before meeting her eyes again. “Pink.”
She clapped her hands together. “See? It’s easy to tell when we open ourselves up to the energy surrounding us.” She happily gave him a quick hug before pulling back to stare up at him innocently, not seeing his hands were clenched at his sides.
“It wasn’t hard. You’re wearing a pink dress.”
She waved away his explanation. “Don’t ruin it. At least let me have a couple of minutes to be proud of my student.”
His smile faded. “Is that how you think of me? As your student?”
“Of course. It’s how I think of all of my clients. I think of you as a friend, too. You’ve become one of my best friends, like Patrick, Penni, Grace—”
“You should get going. Six a.m. will be here before you know it.”
Her face fell. “Okay. I didn’t mean to keep you up. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He followed her back into the club’s main room, bleakly watching her say goodbye to Hannibal.
“Can he keep the bone I bought him?” she asked hesitatingly. “It’s blue.”
“He can keep it.”
It took everything in him to simply watch her leave after she gave him a searching look. And he made sure not to stare at the bottom lip that started to tremble. He didn’t move until he saw her headlights back out of the parking lot. Then he went to the bar and picked up one of the empty bottles that littered the counter. With a sudden motion, he threw it at the wall that held the television set, barely missing it.
He looked down when he heard a whining sound coming from Hannibal. The small dog pawed his jeans, trying to get him to pick him up.
Reaching for another beer bottle and another, he threw them until there were no bottles left.
“I can’t be her friend, Hannibal. I tried. Some things are just impossible for a man to do, and not loving Zoey is one of them.”
18
Dear Mom,
I don’t know what to do. Dad and Tracy are fighting so much it scares me. I take Aubrey to my bedroom and hide under my bed when their fights are getting too bad. Tracy said Dad stole money from her sister and her mother, and she wants it back. I don’t know what to do. I expect Dad to make us leave at any time, and I don’t want to leave Aubrey behind, but I know Tracy won’t let her go, and I don’t want her missing her momma the way I do you.