Bad for You (Dirty Deeds)

by J. Daniels

  I didn’t know, so I just kept watching while wondering the same thing.

  Before she stepped off the porch, the woman shoved money inside a wallet she was gripping.

  Money?

  “What the heck?” I whispered again, more harshly this time.

  “Oh, my God, is that…a lady of the evening?” Syd questioned.

  Tori snorted. “Hon, why would you call her that? Just say hooker. Or prostitute. Because that’s clearly what she is.”

  “It is, right?” Syd asked.

  “She’s definitely dressed for action,” Jenna said.

  My stomach tightened and rolled at the same time. I felt a pressure build inside my chest, like someone was squeezing the ever-loving shit out of my heart and enjoying every second of it.

  A prostitute?

  Did Sean really just get sex from a prostitute?

  I watched the woman with eagle eyes.

  She walked to her dark, four-door car, which I was betting was not used to haul kids around. Pimps, maybe. She got in, backed out into the street, and peeled out, tires screeching and everything.

  Like she was worried she’d get arrested for something illegal.

  “My grandmother spells whore H-O-R-E,” Jenna said. “Isn’t that funny?”

  “What the heck!” I screeched, unable to keep a lid on my reaction to this any longer. I threw my door open and climbed out, then stormed across that lawn as best I could, considering the heels I was wearing and how soft the lawn was due to the rain we’d had yesterday. My cross-body purse bounced wildly against my hip.

  “B.J., do not move this car.” That order came from Tori.

  “Shay, wait!” Syd called out behind me.

  I did not wait. I couldn’t.

  I was angry. I was sad beyond belief. I felt betrayed. But most of all, I was mad at myself for not getting through to Sean in terms of his worth.

  All those things I was feeling were tearing me up inside so badly, I could not wait.

  With a heavy fist, I beat on Sean’s door until it swung open. And when it did, the girls were all gathered behind me, whispering about that woman, about Sean, about me, and about the move I was about to make.

  They were rethinking this plan.

  Too bad I wasn’t.

  Sean stood in front of me wearing nothing but those faded, ratty jeans. He was barefoot, shirtless, his hair was damp, meaning he’d just washed that woman off him.

  My nose began to sting.

  “Hey,” Sean greeted us, looking at the girls at my back, and then focusing on me, where his eyes did a slow, sexy travel down my body before returning to my face. “What’s up?”

  “What’s. Up?” I echoed, bringing my arms across my chest and glaring at him. He did not just ‘what’s up’ me after having sex with a hooker. “Oh, I’ll tell you what’s up. You think you’re only worth some dirty, disease-infested, back-alley hood rat, who needs to find a new stylist immediately, and that just isn’t true. It’s not even close to being true. You deserve better. The best. You deserve…someone who at least knows how to tease their hair properly. That’s what’s up!”

  “Damn,” Tori murmured.

  “Wow. This is crazy.” That comment came from Syd.

  Brows raised, Sean didn’t say a word. He just kept looking at me.

  So I kept going. “How could you pay for sex? How could you think you’d have to, Sean?”

  “The fuck are you talkin’ about?” he questioned.

  “That woman! That skank who just left! You paid her for sex, didn’t you! I saw the money.”

  “You mean my ex-sister-in-law?”

  Someone gasped behind me. Oh, my God…They were thinking the same thing as I was.

  “Your ex-sister-in-law is a lady of the evening?” I asked.

  Sean frowned. “A what?”

  “A hooker. Prostitute. Back-alley hood rat. They have a lot of titles,” I answered.

  “Good to know,” he replied, leaning his shoulder against the door frame and shoving his hands in his pockets, like he was getting comfortable.

  Comfortable? Really?

  “Um, care to explain why you felt the need to pay your ex-sister-in-law money for sex?” I questioned, hands on my hips now.

  “You drunk?” he questioned back.

  “No.”

  “Sound drunk.”

  “I’m somewhat inebriated.”

  “Spell inebriated.”

  I glared at him. “I’d rather not, thank you very much.”

  “That’s what I thought—drunk.” He looked over my head. “And what the fuck’s this? You bring your girls so they can run their mouth at me about shit they don’t fuckin’ know about too?”

  “What the hell does that mean?” I questioned.

  “Um, actually, we aren’t here to run our mouths at you at all. We’re here to give you affection.”

  Sean stared at Sydney after she finished speaking. “You’re here to what?”

  “Give you affection. Hugs.” Jenna shot her arm out over my shoulder. “Stitch, is it? I’m Jenna, Brian’s sister. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

  “This is hardly the time for introductions,” I snapped, pushing her arm down.

  “Sorry. But I just didn’t want it to seem weird when I did this…” Jenna pushed forward to get in front of me, then, stepping up to Sean, she wrapped her arms tight around his middle and gave him a hug.

  He stared at the top of her head until she pulled away, then he watched her with suspicion until she pushed her way back behind me, allowing room for Syd and Tori to step up next.

  One at a time, they each gave Sean a hug that he did not reciprocate in the slightest—Syd holding on a little bit longer than Jenna, and Tori ending hers with a quick kiss on the cheek.

  That would’ve pissed me off if it wasn’t Tori, and if I didn’t know the reason behind her doing it. Since it was one of my girls and she was merely giving Sean affection that was innocent in nature, I did not make a mental note to beat her ass another day and time.

  With everyone back in position behind me, Sean lowered his eyes and met my own.

  “You,” he said, not sounding angry but not sounding friendly either. “Inside,” he gently ordered. “The rest of you, go home. Now.”

  “Righty-o!” Syd yelled, spinning around and hopping off the porch.

  “It was so nice to meet you,” Jenna said. She waved at Sean and followed after Syd.

  Tori gave me a quick hug and whispered in my ear, “I want major details tomorrow.”

  I tried to smile when she leaned away, but it was fully hitting me now that I was about to step into Sean’s house with him, alone, and confront the shit show I just rolled up on all while making my move. The best I could manage was a half smile while laughing nervously.

  “Bye, Stitch!” Tori yelled as she walked across the yard.

  I slowly turned around, met Sean’s eyes again, and explained, just in case it wasn’t obvious already, “It was girls’ night. We get a little wild on girls’ night, and sometimes come up with a plan that involves a guy in one way or another.”

  “This plan have to do with givin’ me hugs for some strange fuckin’ reason?” he asked.

  “Yes.” I nodded firmly. “They, uh, have all been somewhat informed of your terrible upbringing and wanted to show you the love you’ve deserved your entire life. They feel you deserve it too. As much as me.”

  Sean stared at me for a breath. His face held some emotion I was having difficulty comprehending under the low porch light. Then he straightened off the door, rubbed at his mouth, and stepped back, allowing me room for entry.

  He did not speak.

  I wasn’t sure that was a good sign or not, but I didn’t inquire. I cleared my throat and moved inside.

  The light in the living room was on, but aside from that, the house was dark.

  I pulled the linked chain of my cross-body bag over my head and tossed it on the couch. Sean stood at the door three feet away, stari
ng at me. I wanted so, so badly to make my move, but that woman being here was bothering me, and I couldn’t get past it.

  “I just—I don’t understand why you think you’d have to pay someone to—”

  “Heard your speech the first time,” Sean interrupted. “You don’t need to repeat it.”

  I breathed slowly through my nose and waited, feeling ready to crawl out of my skin, I was so troubled by this.

  Sean brought his arms across his chest, took a deep breath, like he was preparing to say a lot, and then shared, “Bridgett, Val’s sister, was here tryin’ to pay me to stay away from my girls.”

  My entire body went ramrod straight.

  Sean did not, in fact, say a lot.

  But what he did say had me flying so fast for that door, I forgot about my heels and nearly face-planted.

  “Tell me where that skank-whore lives!” I shrieked. Sean’s arm circled my waist as he caught me up. He kept it there and he lifted me off my feet, preventing me from reaching the door. “I’m going over there right now! She cannot do that to you! She has no right!”

  “She’s got a right, Shayla.” Sean spoke in my ear.

  “I’m gonna pull out all her stupid, ugly hair and make her eat it!” I kicked the air, reaching over his shoulder for the door, and then allowing his words to penetrate, I quit fighting him, turned my head, and met his eyes. “What do you mean, she’s got a right? No, she doesn’t.”

  “She’s protectin’ my kids,” he said. “She’s just lookin’ out for them and Val. That is not a bad thing for her to be doin’, babe.”

  I sucked in a breath.

  Oh, my. Babe felt nice. I liked that.

  But I had to keep focus. My argument was solid, and he needed to hear it.

  I gripped Sean’s shoulders for support. Our fronts were mashed together, and my feet were still dangling in the air. “It is a bad thing if it involves you not seeing them, Sean,” I told him. “She can’t do that. She can’t keep you from your girls.”

  He shook his head. “She isn’t.”

  “She isn’t?”

  “Saw the money, didn’t you?”

  I opened my mouth, then closed it. “Oh. Right.” Yeah, I definitely got a good look at that money.

  “Bridgett saw the house, saw all the shit I’ve done to it, and listened while I laid it out for her,” he said. “She needed to see this for herself and hear it from me. I’ve lied a lot in the past, Shayla. A lot. Hurt Val more than once. Bridgett has a right to be comin’ up in here and makin’ sure I’m not gonna fuck up my kids’ lives any more than I already have. She meant good by it.”

  “I’m having a hard time agreeing with you on that,” I told him honestly.

  “’Cause you thought I was fuckin’ her?”

  I flinched and felt blood pooling in certain areas of my body at the same time. That was both a disgusting thought and seriously sexy the way he said the word fuckin’.

  “Well, can you blame me for thinking that? She was dressed like a two-dollar H-O-R-E.”

  Sean’s mouth twitched. “You are drunk. You can’t spell for shit.”

  “Yes, I can. That’s just how Jenna’s grandmother spells it.” I wiggled until he set me on my feet. “And I’m not drunk. I’m half drunk. There’s a difference.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes. I have some sense about me still. I saw all the makeup that crusty bitch was wearing and knew it was way too much. If I was drunk, I might’ve thought differently. How come she was dressed like that anyway?”

  “She works at the Dollhouse.”

  My mouth dropped open. “She’s a stripper and she’s coming over here judging you? Is she insane? Like, I’m seriously asking, because if I do see her again, her mental state will determine whether I slap the shit out of her for this stunt tonight. I don’t need some psycho chick breaking into my apartment.”

  Sean grinned. He actually grinned. And even though it was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen in my entire life, it aggravated me slightly because he was doing it out of amusement.

  “What?” I asked, hands on my hips and my head cocked to the side. “Don’t make fun of me. I’m serious. I don’t like how she came up in here looking to pay you off. That hurts me. It hurts me for you. You need those girls in your life, Sean, and they need you in theirs. They need their dad. The man you are…their lives would be severely lacking without you in it.”

  Sean’s grin softened when I finished speaking. Then his eyes did this slow appraisal of my face, and just as my breath started picking up under his scrutiny, he reached out and grabbed my neck while stepping forward, pulled me firmly against his chest, circled my upper back with his other arm, and dropped his head so his mouth was in my hair.

  We were sealed together. This was a legitimate embrace. Not like the neck squeezes he’d given me before. No, this was more.

  I forced myself to breathe so I wouldn’t pass out and miss this beautiful moment. Then I hugged him back for nearly a full thirty seconds.

  I knew this because I was counting.

  Cheek pressed to his pec, I inhaled slowly and deeply.

  His skin smelled so good. And his body felt amazing against mine. And his mouth in my hair, pushing warm breath across my head, holy crap, that was nice.

  I wanted this to last forever. I wanted to go back in time and not drink those Creamsicle margaritas, eliminating the possibility of this moment getting lost in the haze. But more important than that, I really wanted to look at Sean while he embraced me.

  Just as I felt his arm loosen its hold, I tipped my chin up, forcing his head back ever so slightly so we could see each other.

  His hand was still on my neck, but his thumb had moved to my jaw. This new touch drove me crazy. And considering that, plus the embrace, and the current way Sean was gazing down at me—intensely, like he was feeling something major in this moment—I saw my window.

  This was it. Now to do what I came here to do.

  But just as I prepared to make my move and kiss him, Sean spoke. “It’s late. I should get you home.”

  I did not want to go home. Not even in the slightest. “Or, I could stay,” I suggested bravely.

  Alcohol made me giggle and it gave me courage. I wasn’t sure I would’ve ever made that suggestion sober.

  I was no longer regretting those Creamsicle margaritas.

  Sean’s brows shot up at my proposal, then his face softened as he subtly shook his head. “Shayla,” he began. His voice was strained.

  “I just have so much more I want to tell you.”

  “You’ve said a lot already.”

  “Not everything, though.” I slid my hands up his arms, past his broad shoulders to his neck, mouth open to say it, just say it.

  “Not tonight.”

  The words in my heart died on my tongue.

  “What? Why?” I asked.

  “You’ve said a lot, Shayla,” he repeated, slowly and firmly.

  “I haven’t though. Not that much.”

  “You have,” he stressed. “Trust me, you have. I’m still hearin’ it, all right?”

  My lips pressed together. I understood then what he was saying.

  Accepting the things I’d already told him tonight and before wasn’t easy, but Sean was trying. He wasn’t fighting me or arguing or asking me to call him “nothing.” He was hearing me and letting it all sink in.

  I had a feeling, a good one, that he’d continue hearing me and everything else I planned on saying. And knowing that and considering how important Sean had become in my life, I’d respect the time he needed. I wouldn’t push him.

  “Okay,” I said. “Not tonight.”

  Sean’s thumb on my jaw moved the tiniest bit. My knees locked.

  God, I felt that move everywhere.

  “You gotta work tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Yes. All day. You?”

  “Same.” He took a deep breath. “This ain’t a good idea.”

  “What?”

&
nbsp; “You stayin’ here.”

  “You’re right.” I leaned closer. “It’s a great idea.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted.

  I thought about not pushing him, about respecting the time he needed, and made myself clear on one thing.

  “If you really don’t want me here, you can take me home.”

  Breathing loud and heavy, he stared deep into my eyes. “I haven’t laid with a woman in a long time.”

  Oh, God.

  I loved how he said that, and I loved that he said that. His honesty sometimes was overwhelming in the best possible way.

  “Well, I’m sure it’s just like riding a bike,” I reassured him.

  Deep inside his chest, he chuckled. I knew that was a good sign. I grinned up at him.

  “How many drinks you have tonight?” he asked, watching my mouth.

  “Three.”

  “Big ones?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “You gonna be hungover tomorrow?”

  “It’s a possibility. I feel good now, though.”

  “’Cause you’re still drunk.” He shook his head, but not in a disapproving way. Then his hand on my neck pulled off so that same hand could find my lower back, where he pressed and turned me in the direction of the hallway.

  I took his lead and walked ahead.

  My heart was racing. My insides were warming deliciously.

  I was spending the night with Sean. I was going to lay with him and possibly cuddle.

  This was a big, big deal.

  Passing the girls’ bedroom first, then the bathroom, I finally made it to the room at the end of the hall, and flipped the light on overhead.

  The bedroom was small and hadn’t been painted yet, but thanks to Monica, Sean had a bed frame now with a headboard and footboard instead of just a mattress on the floor, plus a wide dresser he could keep all his clothes in, freeing up the trunk he’d been using for storage. That was utilized as a nightstand now.

  What he didn’t have was a comforter set or any sort of bedding whatsoever. Just a sheet laid out on the mattress, one pillow, and an old, quilted blanket that looked well used. The color was a faded patchwork.

  I didn’t comment on the appearance of Sean’s bed, but I did make a mental note to ask the girls if anyone had any spare bedding they weren’t using.

  I was also prepared to browse the home section at Target next time I ran out.