“Why the fuck are you talking to me instead of her then?”
“She had about half a dozen beers.”
“Right,” he acknowledges. “She out to it?”
“Dead to the world.”
“Same old lightweight Dylan.” He chuckles.
“The very one.”
“What have you got up your sleeve for tomorrow?”
“I dunno, man, I just want to survive it without making her cry again,” I mutter.
“You made her cry?” he demands.
He sounds more like an angry older brother than a concerned friend, but I don’t even bother arguing with him about his tone. If I fuck this thing up with Dylan, I won’t need him to kick my ass, I’ll do it myself.
“Yesterday. I dunno what the fuck I did, Stonesie, she went to sleep crying and then woke up like it never happened.”
“Women are baffling creatures, Wood.”
“Not Dylan. She’s not one of those girls who hides things and talks in circles.”
“She might not have been that girl before, but you don’t know who she is now,” he replies quietly.
I get the feeling he knows something he’s not telling me. So I ask him a question I haven’t asked since I first got locked up.
“Did you talk to her while I was gone?”
He blows out a breath. “Once, man, just once.”
“You didn’t tell me,” I growl.
“She asked me not to.”
“Well that’s fucking great, you’re my mate, Jeff – mine.”
“I’m her friend too,” he snaps. “Just because she didn’t want to know you anymore doesn’t mean she couldn’t talk to me. I tried to call her every day for three months, Wood. I wanted to help her, but she wouldn’t let me. You’re not the only one she shut out.”
It hits me then, just how much damage has been done. Not only to me, but to those closest to me.
I don’t know if any of us will ever be the same again.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” I blow out a breath.
He sighs. “I know you are, man.”
“We good?”
“Of course we’re fucking good.”
There’s silence for a beat.
“So when did you talk to her?”
“It was a about a month or two after you went in. She called me out of the blue on a private line. She asked me if you were okay.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her that you’d been better, but that you’d be fine. I told her you’d get out one day and when that day came, you’d try and get her back – so she better be ready.”
“What did she say to that?”
“She hung up on me. Never heard from her again until she called me up and bowled into the garage the other day.”
“I’m really trying to get her back, Jeff. I want it so bad.”
“I know you do, Wood, just stick at it. She’ll come around.”
“I told her I was innocent.”
“She believe you?”
I think about it for a minute.
“I’m not sure she wants to have her mind changed… you know how stubborn she is. She saw the facts back then and that was enough for her.”
“Then maybe it’s time you looked for some new facts.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Dylan
I blink drowsily and groan as the light from the open curtain hits me right in the eyes.
“Make it stop,” I grumble.
I reach around without thinking and then freeze when I realise what I’m doing.
I’m feeling for Andy in the space next to me.
I groan again, this time out of frustration at myself.
This week of ‘married bliss’ is not going to plan at all.
He’s wearing me down, and fast. At this rate I’ll be asking him to sleep with me after all, and then I’ll be completely screwed – if I’m not already.
I’ll never be able to give him up if I let him into my pants.
I roll over and my senses are assaulted with the smell of him on my sheets. I breathe in deeply, inhaling every little bit of him that I can.
It’s just me in here – no one can see me being weak and stupid, and if no one sees, then it doesn’t count.
That’s my new motto anyway.
He’s definitely been in here again – not that I would have even bothered to tell him no if he’d asked. The half-cut state I was in, I probably would have been begging him to stay with me.
I roll back over and throw the covers off myself, and it’s only then that I realise I’m only in my top and underwear.
I grimace.
I’m ninety-nine percent sure I didn’t do anything more than sleep last night, but there’s still that one percent of uncertainty I’m looking to squash.
My eyes scan the room until I find the pants I was wearing last night, folded neatly on my dresser.
I breathe a sigh of relief. Now I’m one hundred percent safe.
Andy isn’t the kind of man who folds up your clothes before fucking your brains out. No, he’s the bastard who barely manages to leave any item of clothing in one piece as he rips it from your body – no matter how expensive it was.
There was no sex happening in this room last night – not any that involved me at least.
“Andy?” I call out.
There’s no reply.
I grab the water off the bedside table and take a swig of it.
I don’t know if I’m hungover or what, but it feels hot in here. Like, super hot.
I roll out of bed and pad across the room, not even bothering to put on my pants.
Andy’s clearly seen everything last night anyway, and who knows, maybe it might give me the upper hand in this power struggle we’ve got going on if I take a leaf out of his book of seduction.
I walk out into the hallway and I’m hit by a wave of heat so strong I consider turning back around and dialling for help.
I definitely did not imagine it.
It’s like a sauna in here.
“Andy?” I yell.
I’m becoming more and more concerned by the second that his new cooking skills have gone wrong and he’s about to burn the entire building to the ground.
“In here, princess,” he calls back.
I follow the sound of his voice to the living room where I find him sitting on the couch. No flames – no raging inferno.
He’s back wearing only his usual boxer briefs, although this pair is grey, a backwards baseball cap and absolutely nothing else.
He’s got one arm slung over the back of the couch and the other inside his boxers.
That’s when I figure out what he’s done. The bastard has played me at my own game.
“Oh Jesus, you didn’t.”
“I did.” He smirks. “Might be too hot to wear anything at all.” He grins smugly.
“It’s about one thousand degrees in here,” I whine.
“It’s a fucking upgrade from the freezer, is what it is.”
“My power bill is going to be outrageous.” I sigh in defeat.
I should have known better than to start a war with him.
He’s better at it than I am.
“Come watch the replay of the game with me.” He gestures towards the T.V.
I take a minute to really look at him. He might have technically won this round, but it’s not like all is lost.
He’s quite the sight.
I pause for a minute, debating my options before tugging my own top over my head, revealing the black lace bra I’m wearing, that matches my black boy-leg underwear.
I’m not a particularly confident woman when it comes to my body, I’ve always thought I’ve had a bit too much ass, tits and thighs, but those insecurities never followed me into my relationship with Andy. He’s always made me feel like I’m the sexiest woman in the room.
I toss my shirt onto the chair and stroll over to si
t next to him on the couch. “What are we watching?”
He doesn’t answer me so I glance over at him. His eyes are almost popping out of his head.
“What?’ I ask innocently. “It’s hot in here.”
He groans and lets his head fall back. “Okay, you win… fuuuuck… I’ll put the temperature back.”
“Nah leave it, we’ll split the bill.” I wink at him.
“Leave it?” he mutters. “Sweet baby Jesus.”
I laugh. “What’s the matter, you can’t handle a woman in her underwear anymore?”
“I’ve spent the past three years surrounded by about four hundred men,” he growls like he’s almost in pain. “What the hell do you think?”
“Well you should have thought about that before you made this place a tropical paradise and tried to out play me.”
I put my feet up on the coffee table and make a show of watching the game.
He tries to focus on the T.V, he really does, but I see his eyes darting back to look at me every few seconds.
“You can’t sit there like that, princess.”
“Why not?” I ask without looking at him.
“I can’t handle it. I’m like a jacked-up teenager with too much time on my hands and a full load to blow.”
I can feel the corner of my mouth twitching with a grin, but I do everything in my power to keep it locked down.
“Maybe you should get your hand out of your pants, I doubt all that fiddling is doing you any favours.”
I glance pointedly at his crotch and then back at the screen in front of us.
“I’m holding it down, Dylan,” he groans. “The visiting team’s score won’t be the only thing that’s up if I let go now.”
That comment pushes me over the edge and I erupt into laughter.
“You’re such a boy.” I giggle as he continues to stare at me with a pained glance.
I’ve got no doubt he’s being serious, and the idea of me turning him on to this extent is doing wonders for my self-esteem.
“I’d argue with you, but right now, I feel a lot like a little boy.” He shakes his head in disgust at himself.
His eyes rake over my body once again and this time I feel them.
Goose bumps break out on every surface of bare skin on my body under his intense watch.
I might have the upper hand right now, but I have a feeling I’m about to pass it over in favour of being flat on my back.
“You ready to tell me you’re giving up the no sex rule yet?” he asks, his voice sounding like gravel.
I shake my head unconvincingly.
“You sure, princess?”
I’m not sure about anything anymore. I’m not sure if my husband is a thief, or if he’s innocent. I’m not sure if I want a divorce, or if I want to stay married. I’m not sure if I want to run away from him right now, or if I want to throw myself at him…
I don’t know shit about shit.
“Dylan, I—” he begins to say, but he’s cut off by the sound of keys turning in the lock on my door.
“Oh no,” I mutter.
There’s only one person who has a key to my house and that’s Sarah. And what she’s about to walk into is not going to look good.
“Cover yourself up,” I hiss as I throw the closest thing I can reach to him – a cushion. “Right now.”
“What?” he asks in confusion.
“Fuck a duck why is it so hot in here?” she yells.
I turn and shoot her a sheepish smile over my shoulder as she gets a good look at the scene in front of her.
“Well, well, well, this isn’t something you see every day…” She smirks as she looks at the pair of us.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Andy
“It pains me to say it, Andrew, but you’re looking fantastic.”
Her eyes are looking me over shamelessly, and I’m not surprised, Sarah is a painfully honest, big mouthed, sharp shooter of a woman. She says everything that she thinks. She’s never made any secret of her appreciation for my physique or her more recent distaste for me in general.
Sarah’s been like a little sister to me since the day I met her – albeit a pervy little sister – but she’s always been the biggest cheerleader for me and Dylan.
She could see I made her best friend happy and that was all it took for her to decide she wanted to be on team Dylan and Andy.
It’s different now than it was then, and I know damn well that if I’m going to earn forgiveness from my wife, then I’m going to have to make it up to her best friend too.
These two are a package deal everywhere except the bedroom.
“I see you haven’t changed a bit, Sarah,” I say.
“Not that I’m complaining, but what’s with the heat and no clothes?” She glances back and forth between the two of us for an answer.
“I’ll fill you in later,” Dylan tells her.
“Even better, you can fill me in now, our coffee date doesn’t change because of Mr. striped jumpsuit over here, right?”
“It’s my late-start day; we get coffee every Wednesday morning…” Dylan explains and looks at me expectantly.
I realise she’s waiting for me to tell her to go.
“Oh, go ahead,” I encourage. “You can keep falling in love with me again when you get back.”
Dylan blushes and Sarah narrows her eyes at me.
“I’ve got a few calls to make anyway,” I say.
Sarah gestures for me to go ahead and get up and I nod in acceptance.
I’m going to have to do the walk of shame.
The only positive about her turning up here is that it sorted out the issue in my pants really fucking quick.
Sarah is an attractive woman, but she’s scary as hell.
Scary enough to send me limp in about two seconds flat.
“Well, Sarah, thanks for the eye fuck.” I nod at her.
I lean over and kiss Dylan – who’s put her shirt back on – on the forehead. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours, princess.”
I get up and head for the hallway with my head held high. No sooner am I out of sight that I hear them.
“Oh you are so fucked! Head kisses, ‘princess’… Jesus, did you see the ass on him? Christ, you’re not getting out of this alive, D, I can tell you that much for nothing.”
I chuckle and hope like hell that Sarah is right about that.
***
“Hello, Stuart speaking,” the voice on the other end of the line answers.
“Hey, Stu, this is Andrew Woodman, I met with you a few days ago?”
“I remember,” he says. “My little DD’s stud muffin of a husband.”
“Did you just say stud muffin?”
“Mmm hmm,” he replies.
I chuckle. “Alright then.”
“What can I do for you, Mr. Woodman?”
I do my best to ignore his flirty tone and sexual innuendos, “I was actually hoping you could help me with something. Dylan told me that you’re the man to see if you want to dig up some dirt.”
“You want me to find the person who sat back and watched you take the fall, am I right?”
I’m pacing the room and when he speaks I falter mid-step.
“How’d you know that?”
“I’m just that good.”
I chuckle, almost nervously.
I never told him anything about going to prison or that I was innocent.
So, either Dylan’s been talking about me… or…
“You dug up my dirt, didn’t you?” I question him.
“Oh, honey, every last little bit of it.”
“Why?”
“Wifey’s request.”
“Huh,” I muse. “Interesting.”
“Not as interesting as your past there, muscles… a stunt in juvey for repeated dangerous driving, more speeding fines than you can shake a dick at…”
“Uh, I think the saying is ‘shake a stick at’,” I point out.
“Not in this office it’s not.”
He retorts suggestively.
I can’t help but laugh. He’s totally inappropriate and I like that about him.
Life’s too short to be boring.
“I was seventeen,” I explain. “I was a punk-ass little kid.”
“And what exactly are you now?” he prompts.
“Now I’m a slightly less punk-ass twenty-something-year-old.”
“With a rap sheet to match.”
“A rap sheet for something I didn’t do.”
He’s silent for a moment.
“I never thought you did.”
“Why?” I ask as I breathe out a sigh of relief – if he believes me, he might help me, and right now I need all the help I can get.
“You pled not guilty when you could have pled guilty and taken a deal, there’s nothing solid linking you to any of the cars except the prints, but you’re a mechanic, so duh… and most importantly you’re just too pretty to be a thief.”
I shake my head in amusement. “I worked on the cars – but I didn’t steal them, or flip them, for that matter.”
“And the five-hundred-thousand-dollar, stolen motorcycle they caught you on?” he questions.
“It was a five-hundred-thousand-dollar motorcycle,” I repeat back to him. “I gave it a service and took it for a joy ride.”
“That was smart,” he says sarcastically.
“It was a five-hundred-thousand-dollar motorcycle,” I say again. “I was a twenty-three-year-old petrol head with a fetish for things that go fast – of course I took it for a spin… I test run every vehicle that comes in; how am I meant to know if I fixed the fucking thing otherwise?”
“Don’t ask me, handsome.”
“You gotta take that baby for a ride… but maybe this was a slightly extended, faster ride… can you blame a guy?”
“So it was just wrong place, wrong time?”
“I guess so.”
“Or you were set up.”
“I doubt it. The bike was reported stolen and I was driving it like I’d done exactly that. But either way, I took a ride in a cop car that didn’t come back again, and whoever was actually running the show got off free and easy – albeit slightly inconvenienced.”
“Did you know they raided a warehouse about an hour’s drive from the garage you worked in? They found over thirty vehicles in there – all of them with your prints under the hoods.”
Mr. January: A Second Chance Romance (Calendar Boys Book 1) Page 8