My eyes widen. “Wait. What do you mean not done?”
“This was all before he’d even fucked me yet.”
“WHAT? Are you kidding?”
She shakes her head. “Nu-uh.”
“So, did he fuck you with the toy or with, you know, himself?”
She grins a devilishly wicked grin. “Both … at the same time, and I swear, Mills, if I was a squirter, I would have hit him in the face.”
“Holy shit,” I gape at her, the lucky little hussy. I guess that puts a whole new spin on mixing work with pleasure. “Are you fucking with me right now? Why the hell aren’t you going back for round two? This guy is perfect for you. I don’t think you’ve ever met someone who would be able to keep up with you like that.”
“I know,” she says. “But he’s just … fun. He’s into fucking around and getting dirty. He’s not the serious guy you marry.”
“You sure?” I ask, wondering where the hell the ‘marry’ comment came from. As long as I’ve known her, marriage has always been the furthest thing from her mind.
“Oh, yeah. He’s just like me, and I think that’s the issue.”
“Then why not screw around and enjoy yourself with him? Call it off if you meet someone new. He already knows what you do for work, and seeing as though he’s still texting, I’d dare say he’s more than down to do it again.”
“Yeah, I know,” she cringes.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“He wanted to cuddle.”
“Oh.”
A little voice speaks up from the kitchen. “I like to cuddle.”
Oh, shit.
Zoey flies off the couch and gives Ryan a beaming smile. “Of course, you do baby,” she calls before racing towards her and scooping her up into her arms. Ryan’s giggles are enough to wake Coby, and before I know it, all three of them are playing around on the kitchen tiles. They jump on Zoey like a bean bag while I hurry around trying to make sure no one gets hurt.
I guess that’s mom life.
True to her word, despite my endless comments about not going out with Bull tonight, Zoey takes the girls for a sleepover. She promises them they can stay up late, watch movies, and paint nails, which to them is practically living a dream.
I thank her and drop down onto the couch. What the hell do I do with myself now that I have a whole afternoon with no kids? Moms always dream of this, yet every time it happens, we never know what to do. You know, apart from the dishes and washing.
I let out a sigh and take in the paint pots I’d bought last weekend. I think I overestimated what a big job it was going to be. I had gotten home last week and got as far as taping the windows before running out of daylight and falling asleep on Ryan’s bedroom floor.
A lot goes into painting a room. I had to clean them first and move all the furniture away, making sure to cover anything that couldn’t be taken out of the room. By that point, my arms were sore, and I hate to admit it, but the girls’ bedrooms have been an incredible mess all week.
Maybe it’s time to finish the job.
I walk into Ryan’s room and put everything away before double-checking that she hasn’t peeled off any of the tape. I lay an old sheet down on the carpet, knowing that at some point, I’ll probably drop paint on the floor. I do the same for Coby’s room before going around and opening all the windows.
I dress into some old clothes and throw my hair up into a bun before hitting play on my playlist. This is going to be fun.
I pop open a bottle of wine and prepare for a great night.CHAPTER 9BULLI pull up in my truck right at seven o’clock and park in the driveway of Amelia’s home. I’ve been looking forward to this night since the very second the idea sprung into my mind. Every fucking day my head was swamped with different ideas of where I can take her. I want nothing more than to show her the time of her life and to show her just how serious I am about this.
I think this is the first time I’ve ever actually put effort into a date, and don’t be fooled, it’s going to be an awesome fucking night.
Cutting the engine, I look up at her house. I can envision this as my future—my truck parked out front, pulling up from a long day at work. The house would be lit up like the fourth of July with the girls running around, causing havoc as my angel watches on from the porch. I can tell you what, it doesn’t scare me one bit.
Jumping out of the truck, I hear a god-awful screeching from inside; Zoey must be here. The sounds that come from that girl while she’s sleeping are quite impressive. I can only imagine the sounds that come from her as she tries to carry a tune. Actually, I don’t need to imagine it at all because I can hear it now. I feel sorry for the neighbors. Hell, I feel sorry for Jet if he intends to go after that woman.