I cross my arms over my chest. “So Jeff, want to give me a hand and bring this wood in?”
He rubs his smooth hands together. “Sure.” I can tell he's only doing it because I asked.
I step up into the back of my truck and start sliding boards to him. He takes a single two-by-four and carries it pridefully into the store, thinking he’s doing me a huge favor. I laugh to myself and shake my head, then grab a stack of eight boards and follow him in.
With a small grunt and a content smile, he places his board on the floor in front of Lex, like a penguin bringing a rock to please his mate. As he stands up and sees the load I carried in behind him, his contentedness vanishes and is replaced by a look of shock and embarrassment.
I stand a little taller. “It's okay, they can be heavy and awkward to carry if you ain't used to it,” I say politely, but it's meant as a jab and he knows it.
He doesn't want to make a scene in front of the girls, so he just nods his head and smiles before dusting his soft hands across his two-hundred-dollar jeans.
We make our way back to the truck and Jeff climbs up like I had before, sliding a stack of four boards toward me. I motion for more.
He picks up four more and again, I motion for more. That last load about killed me, but I'm taking every opportunity to show this guy up. I may not have his looks, money, or charm, but there is one thing I do have on him. I have pride. He needs to know where he stands with me. To the outside world, he may be better than me, but in my world, the one with Lex by my side, he stands below me.
After all the boards are carried inside, Jeff leans against the counter panting for breath. He wipes the sweat from his forehead and takes a long drink of water. I glance at him and shake my head. The girls don't see this exchange, but he eyes me. He knows exactly what I'm thinking about his pansy ass.
He caps his water and sets it down on the counter, then turns to talk to me. His body is purposely turned toward Lex so that she’s sure to hear. "I can run home to change and come back to help with the wall if you want."
Lex speaks up just as I’m about to politely brush off his offer.
“That would be great, Jeff. Thanks. Two men would be quicker than one and the sooner we can re-open the better.”
Fuck. Just what I need. Someone who has no idea what he's doing to slow me down. Not only that, but that also means that I'm going to be stuck with his ass all day.
He smiles widely at her. “Great. Be back in a few.”
He walks out of the store with his head held high.
You've won this round, but I'm going to work your ass into the ground, I think as I give him a death glare, to which he flashes a quick smile before pushing out the door.
His new “work” outfit is just as hoity-toity as the previous one – the only difference is that these expensive jeans are covered in holes to give the appearance of being work clothes. All my jeans have holes as well, but mine were earned from good old-fashioned work, not bought that way at the store.
The t-shirt is decorated with some weird tattoo designs and has some guy’s name scribbled across the front. The sleeves are frayed on the ends, again, making the shirt look likes it’s been worked in, but it’s just another part of the façade.
I laugh quietly to myself before kissing my girl on the lips and giving her ass a firm smack as Jeff and I walk off to the back.
His eyes follow my hand, but linger a little longer on her ass. I can’t blame him there, she does have a great ass, but it still fills my chest with anger.
“Jeff, grab one of those two-by-fours and lay it on the chalk line so we can form the base of the wall,” I direct him. After a moment’s pause, as he tries to decide which ones are two-by-fours, he bends over to pick up a board. His shirt pulls up and reveals rhinestones decorating his back pockets.
This is just too much for me. I have to turn around to conceal my silent mirth from him.
This guy is a straight-up douchebag.
I cover my mouth with my fist, trying to hide my smile. If he catches me laughing, he’s going to say something and we’ll end up in a fight - something I want to happen, but not here in Lex’s store.
Within a couple of hours, the framework for the new wall is up. The next step will be to tear down the old wall. With my Sawzall, I start cutting through the framework of the old wall. Jeff gets to take a breather for this part since I don’t trust him with power tools.
As I’m cutting through the wood, he joins the girls and shows off his battle-scars. And by ‘battle-scars’, I mean the tiny cuts and scratches he got from moving wood around.
I shake my head at him and go back to the wall.
After enough of the old wood is cut out, I entrust Jeff with picking up the mess. He’s not happy with this job assignment, but he won’t argue in front of the girls.
I flash Lex a smile and a wink, which she laughs at. I don’t know if she knows what I’m doing, but if she does, she’s finding it just as amusing as I do.
We call it quits around dinner time, after I’ve managed to get the framework for the new wall up and the old one taken down. In the morning, I have to pick up the sheetrock to start on the drywall. It’s a good place to stop for the day and I’m more than pleased with how haggard Jeff looks.
He managed to put a few real holes in his jeans after all, and he only hit his thumb twice with a hammer. He’s probably worked harder today than he in has his whole life, and I guarantee he will feel it tomorrow.
I wrap my arm around Lex and lead her toward the exit. Jeff is walking slow already, and the quiet laughter that has been held back all day finally starts to come out.
“You’re not funny,” Lex says, low enough that only I hear.
“Since when? You’ve always loved my sense of humor.” I give her a playful nudge with my arm as I open the truck door for her.
Chapter 13
The tension in the room becomes palpable as soon as Striker steps in and sees Jeff standing at my side.
I also notice the hard time he has been giving Jeff all day. I don’t say anything, partly because I think it’s funny, but partly because I know the situation we’re in must be bothering Striker. He’s sizing him up and comparing himself to him even though, in my eyes, there is no comparison.
Striker has always had my heart. He has always been there for me… at least when I would allow him to.
On the way home we stop to grab some Chinese food, and then cuddle up in bed to watch a movie. Finally, I decide to ask him about earlier.
“So what’s with you and Jeff today?”
A smile spreads across his face before he shrugs. “Seriously, that guy is the highest level of douche you can get. Why did you sleep with him?”
Oh, it’s a jealousy thing. “So you put him through hell because I’ve slept with him?”
“No, I gave him shit to do because he needed it. That guy doesn’t look like he’s worked a day in his life. What does he do, anyway?”
“He owns a restaurant, I told you that.”
“I thought you were lying to pass off the fiancée thing.”
Several moments of silence pass before he breaks the silence. “Look, I just wanted to check the guy out, see who my competition is.”
I roll over on top of him, place my hands on either side of his face, and look into his eyes, making sure I’m not hiding anything. I know all too well how easily he can read me if I try to hide something or leave something out. “There is no competition. It’s just you. You and me, remember?”
These words seem to settle him down. He wraps his arms around my back and pulls me down for a kiss. This kiss travels low in my belly.
God, why do I want him so much? Why has he always had this hold on me?
With his hand on the nape of my neck, he rolls us over. His weight presses into me in all the right places. I wrap my legs around him and pull him as close as I can get him. I never thought I would have this again. Finally letting my walls down and allowing him in has done something to me.
It feels like I am weaker now – if I could keep Striker out I could keep anyone out, but now that he’s in, how damaged will I be when this ends? A deep crack already runs through my heart, and losing him for a second time may completely break me.
“Open your eyes, baby,” he says in his rough, gravelly voice.
I do as he says, hoping the doubt I’m feeling isn’t obvious to him.
Immediately, he sees it. Of course he sees it.
He gets himself to his knees and watches me while he starts unbuckling his belt. “What are you doubting right now?”
I open my mouth to deny that I am doubting anything, but he knows what I’m going to do and interrupts me before my mouth can form the words. “Tell me. No lies, no secrets.”
“I’m worried that I will break. I can’t lose you again.” I feel my eyes tear up.
He shakes his head once. “It’s not going to happen.” He pulls at the waistband of my shorts and slides them down my legs.
“I don’t give a fuck what secret you’re keeping.” His jeans slide down his hips to reveal his large erection. His chest is heaving.
“It’s not coming between us again.” He places himself at my entrance and thrusts deep inside. “You’re mine,” he growls.
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull his lips to mine for a rushed kiss. The emotion is thick and heavy between us.
I’m his.
I wonder if he knows I always have been.
The week flies by, and by the end, the wall is built and a good portion of the tiles have already been finished. I wasn’t surprised when Jeff decided not to show back up to help, he was probably sore from all the work they did the first day.
Closing time rolls around and one question about the coming wedding is hanging over my head.
Who do I ride with?
Striker will be pissed if I ride with Jeff and he has to drive back alone, but Jeff is my date for the wedding. He’s doing this as a favor to me. How do I tell him that I don’t want to ride with him? On the other hand, I would like to have my own car in case things get too tough. I need to be able to run.
As I’m packing my bag to head home, Striker picks up on my nervousness. “What’s going on?” He flops down onto my bed.
I shrug. “Nothing, just packing.”
“No, I mean, what is it that’s showing in your eyes right now?”
I should’ve known.
“I don’t know what to do about this weekend,” I admit.
He sits up, resting his elbows on his knees. “What do you mean?”
I toss a folded-up shirt into my bag and sit down beside him. “I mean, do I ride with you since we’re together? Or do I ride with Jeff since he’s my date?”
“Oh.” He sits up straight. “Who do you want to ride with?”
“I would like to drive myself honestly.”
He takes my hands in his. “Nothing is going to happen. You won’t have to run.” His green eyes are shining brightly, drawing me in and warming my soul.
“Ride with me. Before we get into town, you can get in with him.”
“You think you can handle that?” I ask him.
“I think I can handle anything when it comes to you.” He leans in and presses a quick kiss to my lips.
The small gesture unearths a smile.
“That’s better.” He traces my bottom lip with his thumb. “If you need to run, call me and I’ll run with you this time.”
Jeff meets us at my place and follows behind us on the drive. Glancing in my rearview mirror, I see his lips moving a mile a minute. He is always on the phone dealing with some issue with his restaurant. I didn’t miss a thing by riding with Striker.
The drive is quiet, but every time my nerves shoot up, Striker is right there. Somehow, he senses it. He doesn’t even need to see me, he just reaches over and holds my hand at the perfect time. I wonder if he even realizes he’s doing it?
This ride brings back memories of my last trip home, when I had to get off the interstate just to catch my breath. Things are so much different this time.
Then, I was hoping I didn’t run into Striker, but this time he’s the only thing getting me through.
The drive ends too quickly. I laugh to myself as we pull over at the “Welcome to Cumming” sign.
His eyes follow mine to the sign and soon his deep laughter mingles with mine.
I lean over and wrap my arms around his neck before pressing a long kiss to his lips.
Pulling away, I grab my bag out of the floorboard. “You tell me if he tries anything.”
“He won’t, I promise.”
I go to close the door, but his voice stops me. “Hey!”
“What?” I stick my head back inside.
“I love you.”
I smile broadly at him. “I love you too.”
Jeff’s car is parked on the shoulder of the road right behind the truck. After I climb in and get settled. I open my mouth to ask him about the drive, but he holds up his finger to silence me.
“Okay, I need to get off of here, Steve. Call me if anything else comes up.”
“Sure thing,” comes from the speakers.
He hits the red button on the screen and looks at me as he shifts the car into gear. “Okay, give me the rundown.”
“The rundown?”
“Yeah, you know. All the 4-1-1. What do I need to know to keep your mom off your back, to make her like me? What does she like, what does she do?”
My nose crinkles up. “She makes my life as miserable as possible, that’s what she does.”
“Give me something here.”
I take a long breath. “Okay.” I sit back and think. “Okay, she likes money. She likes people who act like they have money, so act like you’re too good for everyone and she will be panting at your feet like a dog in heat.”
He looks at me with a twinkle of humor. “I’m not really wanting to fend off your mom this weekend.”
I laugh. “Well that’s how you keep her off my back.”
He joins in on my laughter as I give him directions to my parents’ house.
The massive house at the end of the long circle drive doesn’t even faze him. He parks the car and looks at me. “What?” he asks.
“I want to see where you grew up.”
His brows furrow together in confusion. “Why?”
“Because anyone that can see this house for the first time and not say anything, must have grown up in an even bigger house than this.”
He doesn’t confirm or deny, just shrugs before opening his door.
I meet him around the back of the car. “Okay, so here’s the deal: come in, say hello, have a short conversation, and then leave to check into your hotel. Got it?”
He nods. “Got it. Let’s get the weekend in hell started.”
My instinct to run battles me as we step onto the elegant porch. I ring the bell and wait patiently.
“You ring the bell at your parents’ house?”
I silently glare at him. I don’t need him making me feel even more awkward.
My mother opens the door, knowing it’s me, but her usual look of disapproval disappears when she sees Jeff standing at my side. Suddenly, her face is in meet-and-greet mode. She smiles widely and opens the door wider to allow us to walk in.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she says as she takes Jeff’s hand. His eyes flash to me, secretly asking if I’ve talked to her about him.
I offer him my ‘get real’ smile and quickly shake my head.
His smile gets wider, knowing my mother is lying to try and be polite.
“Please come into the sitting room. Would you like a drink?”
She still hasn’t addressed me, but I don’t mind. Jeff is acting as the perfect buffer.
“I’ll take scotch, if you have it,” he answers before sitting down on the white sofa.
“Of course we do. That’s all Alexis’s father drinks.”
He looks at me and I mouth the words, “Thank you.”
My mom hands Jeff his drink and then sits down with her own. Her eyes bounce to me sitting next to Jeff. “Oh, Alexis, I’m sorry. I must have forgotten to ask what you wanted.”
“It’s fine, mom.” True to the theme of this house, I offer her a fake polite smile.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get it,” Jeff says, standing.
My mother smiles at him, but gives me a hateful look.
Jeff walks to the drink cart in the corner of the room and starts to make me something. “I’m sorry, but do you have gin? I know Alex and she likes gin martinis.”
She moves quickly. “I think so, let me go check in the study.”
Jeff turns to me and laughs. I know what he’s doing. He’s getting back at my mother for being rude to me. He picked the one thing that wasn’t on that cart.
“You know I don’t like gin.”
He shrugs. “So, when she sits down, I’ll make you a vodka martini. Who cares if she wasted a trip?”
My mother comes in and hands him the bottle of gin.
“Thank you, Mrs. Grant.” Jeff takes the bottle and sets it on the cart. Once her back is turned, he picks up the vodka and pours my drink.
He brings it over to me and takes a seat while my mother stares, ready to dig in her claws.
“So, Jeff. Tell me what it is you do.” She places her clasped hands on her lap.
“Have you heard of McGillicuddy’s?”
“The restaurant in the city?” Her eyes grow in size.
“That’s the one. I own it.”
She takes a sudden breath. “I’ve been wanting to go there since it opened last July. They are always booked solid, though.”
He laughs before taking a drink. “You just have to drop the right names. Next time you call, tell them that you’re my guests. Works every time.”
She lets out her giddy laugh and swats at his hand.
They sit and make pleasant conversation, fully ignoring me except for when Jeff brings me into the conversation. After several questions directed toward me taunt my mother into yelling at me, he gives up trying to include me.
Losing a Piece of Me Page 12