Today, Dexter seems upset which corroborates with the slew of text messages Savvy sent the group. His eyes were cautiously excited. “You have tickets? I heard they were sold out for the last three months. My dad…” He shoots a guilty glance at his mother. “He wanted to take us, but he got busy.” He scuffs the toe of his shoe on the floor inside the door.
Savvy turns her attention from me to her son. Her expression softens and she sighs, then glances back at me. “Are you sure you’re not going to kill them or sell them for organ transplant?” She arches an eyebrow high toward her hairline like she could discern if I was telling the truth or not.
I curve my lips into not-quite a smirk. “Of course, I won’t. At least, not without giving you a cut.”
Surprise widens her eyes and she shakes her head. “Oh, that’s good.” Over her shoulder, she calls out, “Abby, come here.”
After a moment, Abby joins us, her gaze moving between the three of us. “What’s going on? What are you doing here, Knox?”
“He’s here to take you to the monster truck races. But maybe you don’t want to go.” Savvy turns back to me and puts her hand on Dexter’s shoulder. “I appreciate the offer, but Dexter can’t go alone. I’m just not comfortable with that.”
Good girl. I think to myself, but wait a moment before telling Dexter, “Dang, man. You would have loved it. The entire audience is pretty much high school boys. I don’t remember seeing more than a handful of girls in the whole place last year.” I lift my gaze to a suddenly interested Abby. “It’s probably best you don’t want to go, Abby. I think that’s a good call.”
In three… two… one.
“Actually, I’ll go so Dexter can go. It’s not that big of a deal. Are you sure you’ll be okay here by yourself?” Abby turns her suddenly polite and well-mannered attitude toward her mother.
“I’ll be fine, but are you guys sure you want to leave? You haven’t even had breakfast yet.” Savvy isn’t sure what’s going on and I have no doubt she feels a little bit betrayed.
“Actually, I’ll grab them some stuff. We don’t want to be late. These are great seats.” I tap my rear pocket like I hid them in my pants.
“Yah! Come on, Abby. You’re not dressing like that. Let’s go.” Dexter grabs his sister’s hand and tugs her up the stairs.
Savvy acts like she’s completely surprised by the visit – which I have no doubt she is – but she motions toward her clothes. “I don’t normally dress like this. It’s… Well, this is my day off and I like to relax as much as possible.”
“I think you should dress like this more often.” I can’t keep the huskiness from my voice as I blatantly take in her form again. “Seriously, Savvy, if I looked like you, I’d probably walk around naked all the time, surrounded by mirrors.”
She bites her bottom lip to cover her smile. “You’re a funny one, huh?” But the pink in her cheeks is flattering and I know that while she’s embarrassed at the compliment, she’s also pleased.
And that might be the best thing I can do for her.
At least she let me compliment her. We were making strides and I don’t think she even realizes we are.
I don’t want to be there when she realizes she’s actually letting a man help her. She would never let herself live it down when she figures it out.
Chapter 9
Savvy
I watch as Abby and Dexter are rejuvenated with better attitudes in the space of moments as they hop out the door. I’m not kidding. They’re almost skipping as they follow alongside Knox and head toward his white and red truck.
They barely turn back to wave at me as they climb into the cab, chattering the entire time.
Under normal circumstances, I would probably freak out and not let them go.
But as much as I don’t like Knox, or at least have decided that I don’t like him – muscles and all – they know him. They’re around him and the rest of the food truck trailer people a lot when I make them hang out with me during work hours.
The whole time I’m shutting myself off from the world, my kids are trying to fill the hole their father left in their lives.
Everyone grieves differently, I guess. At least I saw that on a meme once. It must be true.
They back out of the drive and Knox gives me a long glance that ends as he drives them down the road away from the house.
What did he mean when he said that he would walk around naked if he looked like me? I’m a mom of two kids. I have a stubborn ten pounds that won’t come off, no matter how many times I get on that blasted treadmill. He can’t possibly mean what he says. Why would he say that, then?
Why wasn’t a man who looked like Knox hitting on girls half his age? Or women who were blatantly available like Sylvia?
I’m as closed off as an ice box and just as welcoming.
My heart beats harder than it should after an encounter that lasts all of five minutes.
And how did he know I needed a break? He just showed up out of nowhere, like magic. Offering to take the kids? Who did that?
Even their own father didn’t do that. Or even try.
I reclaim my phone, pulling it from my bra and swiping my hand over the screen.
Me: You guys, Hotty BBQ just left with my kids!
Veve: Left? Stole? Kidnapped? What in the world!
Dion: I thought you hated him? Deliciousness and all.
Me: We need a new nickname for him. I’m not in love with Hotty BBQ or the other ones we’ve been using. It seems to fall short.
Alex: Something else? Like meat or something? I know! Let’s call him McBBQ.
Apple: Like on that medical show? I don’t know. Is he as hot as those two docs?
Me: Easily. I would say hotter. What about BBQ Buns? Sauce and all. He’s definitely muscular.
Sara: Okay, that’s it. I’m going to go eat at the food trailer lot on Friday. We need to meet there. I’ve got to see this plate of deliciousness. I mean, hotter than those two docs? Maybe this will kickstart my menopause.
Alex: Maybe my hormones will come out of retirement. I’ll be there.
Apple: McBBQ? I like it. Or we could call him Spicy Buns. Hahaha. Wait, you never did say if his backside is as nice as his shoulders with the ink.
Me: Let me just say, Spicy Buns is VERY appropriate, Apple. However, I do think the BBQ Buns works best with his business. In fact, I think I should recommend a male wet t-shirt contest with him as the only contestant.
Sara: Niiiice. I’d pay to see that.
Me: Maybe we shouldn’t objectify him. I mean, he is being super sweet and taking my kids out.
I don’t text it, but I have to admit that he might be working himself underneath the armor I have against men, especially good-looking ones like him. No need to identify the weakness I have for a guy who is as nice as he is hot. That’s just… beneath me? At least to admit to.
Mandie: Oh no, it’s not objectifying him. Why would you take the fun out of this, girl? Stop it. What you need to do is take some pictures. On the DL. And send them to me. I mean us.
Me: DL?
Dion: Down low. Keep it quiet. Don’t let him know you’re taking them. We all would like some. In fact, that’s everyone’s mission. Take some great pictures of a good-looking guy in your life – love or hate – and send the pics to the group. I can’t wait to see them!
A twinge of excitements shoots up my spine. I’m surprisingly antsy to see them as well. Maybe men weren’t the problem in my life. Maybe men were… just the catalyst to my anger.
But that doesn’t make sense. Any man I’ve ever dealt with has been antagonistic and rude. I’m going to add misogynistic and out of line.
Knox seems to be the only one who tries to put any effort into talking to me. Even after a year of the cold shoulder and rude comments from my end. I have no idea why he’s stuck it out so long, but I have to admit, I’m impressed.
If he survives the afternoon, I’ll be even more impressed.
There’s a knock on my door a
nd I whip around to stare at it. He didn’t even make it to the track. They had to come back.
What did the kids do?
I appreciate his effort though. I’m not sure what I was going to do for the afternoon anyway. This just gave me a moment to myself. Something I hadn’t realized I needed.
I approach the door, grinning as I pull it open, only to have it drip from my face. “Um, what?”
Keith stands at the doorway, leaning one arm on the doorjamb and the other propped on his hip. Is that fake tan on his skin?
Oh. Holeee. Heck. Orange streaks on his forearms attest to the use of fake tan lotion. He is fake tanning from a bottle. A cheap one at that.
What. In. The. World.
He looks past me as if I don’t have the right to say anything. “Where are the kids? I have a few minutes. I thought I’d stop by and see how they’re doing.” He flashes his grin at me and I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but he has caps. Like, honest to goodness caps. When did that happen and how could he afford them?
I’m struggling to pay the bills he left me with and he went and bought himself caps and a fake tan. Folding my arms over my chest, I stick a leg out in front of me and settle back on my left hip. “They aren’t here.”
He pulls back, his weak chin appearing even weaker with the move. “I don’t understand. It’s Sunday. I’m supposed to get them today.”
“Yes, you are, unless you cancel. They both told me you cancelled the weekend. It was their choice to leave. Not mine.” I don’t dare tell him the entire thing happened in moments and I wasn’t sure I could stop it if I tried.
“Well, I’ll just hang out here until they get home. Where’d they go?” Keith moves as if to step inside my house – not his house, not our house – my house. I step in his way like a point guard getting into position on the court.
“You don’t need to come in. You can wait in your car. It’s going to be a while, though. They went to the monster truck races. I think they said it would be about four hours.” I shove my foot behind the door so he can’t push it in any further and stare up at him. I don’t have to look up far, but even with the distance in height, I’m not intimidated.
Keith is a coward. He’s always been one. He needed an audience for his displays of anger and tantrums because then he could say he had maintained control even when I was the worst instigator.
He pulls back, blinking hard as he shakes his head. “No, Dexter and I are supposed to go to those together. I couldn’t get tickets. They were sold out. I couldn’t…” He lifts his gaze to mine and then thrusts his finger into the space inches from my face. “You did this. You bought the tickets before I could so he couldn’t go with me.” He runs his fingers through his darker than normal hair.
What!? I think he dyed his hair. I thought we were older than that. I never dye my hair, but come on. Keith barely has any hair. At least not enough to make a fuss over.
“I didn’t buy the tickets. I don’t know what to tell you. You’re welcome to wait, but you won’t do it on my property. I pay the mortgage. You will wait in the car or come back later.” I don’t even care that he looks forlorn.
He chose this. His kids are trying to do something fun. They’ve waited for months for him to step up and be the dad they need.
It’s not their fault they’re not there when he finally decides to make a cameo appearance.
“Fine. I’m going to go get something to eat and then I’ll come wait. I want to see them and I want to know who they went with.” Anger flashes in Keith’s eyes.
I’m not worried about him harming Knox.
Knox is an ox. His muscles go for days and Keith is more on the line of a pop culture boyband guy. No real facial hair – can’t grow it, if he tried, trust me. Plucks his chest hair, all two of them. And refuses to eat meat because he heard it would make him fat. So, he focuses on tofu products, which… are actually giving him a gut. Unless he’s sneaking donuts behind his girlfriend’s back.
He walks toward his car. If he’s the Keith he’s been for the last quarter of a year, he won’t be back today. But if he’s curious about who has the kids, he’ll be back.
I just hope he doesn’t ruin the time they’ve taken to hang out with someone who isn’t obligated by blood to be with them.
Which brings me back to why then is Knox with them?
Chapter 10
Knox
The loud engines from the monster truck reverberate so deep and throaty I can feel the compression in my chest.
There’s something about being around loud engines, gigantic vehicles where the tires are taller than most of the people, hot dogs with questionable ingredients, people yelling to be heard, and more milling around than women at a mall. All of it combines together to make a person feel… manly.
“This is the best!” Dexter lifts his pop into the air and gives a holler, scrunching his eyes with his exuberance. Yep, even the little man can feel the masculinity in the air.
I chuckle and nod. “I agree. This is one of my favorite events.” We’re standing at the top of the bleachers where the food stands are located. The noise isn’t as prominent here. Still loud, but we can talk in low shouts versus the near-screaming we need to do in our seats.
Normally monster trucks don’t call to a deeper hunter-gatherer instinct in women like they do in men. At least that I know of. Not one woman I’ve brought out in the past has enjoyed them. Maybe I wasn’t finding the right girl, because there are plenty of women here that look girly and like they’re having a fun time.
I’m nervous to check in with Abby. What if she’s not having a good time and she’s complaining to her mom? I don’t want Savvy thinking I can’t handle a couple of teenagers when she graciously let me steal her kids.
I glance at Abby and tuck my chin in surprise at the expression of excitement on her face. I step to the side and nudge her with my elbow. “You having fun, Miss Abby?”
She shifts her gaze from searching the crowd around us to me, her eyes wide as she nods. “This is awesome. Dad wanted to bring us for like ever, but he got too busy.”
I shoot a fast peek at Dexter, expecting him to be down about the situation or something, but he’s munching into his dog and nodding like its no big deal, just normal reporting of facts.
Taking a sip of my root beer, I nod solemnly. “Yes, he and your mom have had a lot of changes in the last year. I can’t imagine what that would be like.”
“Have you been married before?” Dexter asks like it’s a normal conversation and he’s not embarrassed to be asking. I’m grateful that they’re pretty comfortable around me since they’ve known me around the lot. They’re a lot friendlier than their mother has been.
Not that I blame her for her cooler personality toward me and the rest of the men.
“Nope. I’ve never been married.” I grin, eating a chili-covered fry.
“You’ve never been married? Is there something wrong with you?” Abby turns her gaze to me and narrows her eyes, her suspicion suddenly very high. “Are you only taking us out to get close to Mom?”
Taken aback, I shake my head and lower myself to a bench at a recently abandoned table. The kids follow suit. We’d been waiting a while for a table. The fact that we got one with an umbrella is a happy one.
I set my things on the table and then look at Abby with my eyebrows knit. “You know what? I never even thought of that as an option, to be honest. I don’t believe in using people to get what I want. Which is what that would be, right?” I share my attention between Dexter and Abby, waiting for them to agree or disagree.
Wrong Text, Right Reply: A Sweet Accidental Romance (An Accidental But Perfect Romance Book 1) Page 8