“Yes?” I throw my sass at Keller and Tanner, the two who were the worst to my husband.
“I’m thinking we deserved that, don’t you, Keller?” Tanner questions. I finally turn my attention to them.
“Yeah, I’d say so. Thanks for letting us know the full story and making sure it was done right.” I’m about to fall out of my chair. Maybe Alana really is taming Keller to not be such a grumpy, irritable old man after all.
“No problem. I’d be leery, too.” Decker is a man of many facets, and I’m the lucky woman who gets him for the rest of my life.
“Good, now that this shit is over, we can all have another beer and get to the good part: food.” Asa gets up and makes his way to the fridge, grabs the guys their drinks, places them on the table, squeezing my shoulder as he passes, then goes back to grab me and I’m assuming Montana the drinks we prefer.
“Yep, let’s get to it, boys. Food isn’t going to grill itself,” Dad announces. He gets up. Asa follows suit, leaving Tanner, Keller, Decker, and myself at the table. There’s a reason they left when they did, giving the two ding-dongs a chance to apologize.
“Decker, welcome to the family. I’m not going to apologize because I think you know where we were coming from. We’ve always been protective of our baby sister, even though she’s an adult. Sis, love you.” That’s Keller for you, working around his apology, but it works.
“Thanks.” They shake hands across the table. And then there were three. A smile plays on my lips because Tanner may be the oldest, but he’s got a heart of gold and has no problem being the hardass, yet that soft side seems to come out when it’s necessary.
“I’ll apologize. It takes a good man to step up and do what you did, righting wrongs that weren’t yours to right. I’m sorry. I know we signed an agreement that terminated our contract, but if you ever find yourself in need of a reference or some work, we’ll happily work with Williams Concrete.” Tanner doesn’t shake his hand, instead does that man thing where they lift their chins.
“Thanks, Tanner.” Decker returns the sentiment. Now that the so-called fun is over, it’s time to sit back, relax, and enjoy the rest of our day.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
decker
“I’m so glad to be home. Today felt like it was never ending.” Leena isn’t wrong. I watch as she moves to the closet. Her suitcase is open, clothes spilling out and over on the floor. Neither of us have had time to discuss when she’ll be moving in, only that her apartment doesn’t compare to my house, and there’s no way she’d expect me to give up my patch of land with a home that’s perfect.
“It all came out for the better in the end.” By the time I’m out of my shoes, socks, and shirt, Leena is coming out of the closet with not a stitch of clothes on, carefree about her body, not worried about a damn thing. Not that she has any reason to be. I didn’t marry her for only for her body; there’s way more than what meets the eye: the goofiness she exudes, how adventurous she is compared to my need to plan things down to the very hour of the day, the wistfulness. Some days, she reminds me of that Disney character that has her head stuck in a book, and if it weren’t for Melanie, my niece, I probably wouldn’t even know who that is.
“It did. Still doesn’t mean that I’m not emotionally drained. I swear you’re the only man in my life who doesn’t zap me dry. Well, unless you’re doling out orgasms. Even then, one look, that licking of your lip, or your teeth nipping at that lip of yours, and I’m ready for more.” I stand up, unbuckling my belt, taking care of the button in my jeans along with the zipper, using my hands to push them and my boxer briefs to the ground. There’s no fucking way I’m missing out on an opportunity of a shower with my wife. Not after today. She’s not wrong; shit was draining. Having to talk about Elijah is not a cup of tea I tend to enjoy.
“Baby, you think I’m going to let you shower on your own when today has been full of drama even if it did end on good times with a few drinks? There’s no damn way I’m letting you in there without me.” I walk towards her, my hand reaching for hers. She veers until we’re pressed together, our hands untangle, and I’m gripping the curves of her hips. Thankfully, my wife gets the memo as her legs wrap around my waist, arms going to my neck, and those tantalizing fingers of hers delve into the longish strands at the back of my head.