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22
Cole
Fucking A. I watch Lyla as she does another squat in front of me, happily taking my time with my own reps. She is so fucking beautiful; how did a sorry ass man like me get so lucky. I think I might ask myself that for as long as she’s with me. Our date went better than I imagined, and we’ve been on cloud nine together ever since. All of her things are officially in my room and that body is in my bed every night; we grocery shop and cook together, work together, hell we are even working out together, and still I can’t get enough of this woman. As I watch her plump apple ass dip low, I fantasize about the many positions I can bend her into and still bury my cock in it. We have made jokes but I’m dead serious, I want in.
Suddenly jerked out of my head by someone brave enough to shake my shoulder, I realize I’ve been staring for a while and she’s moving on to bar pull-ups. I drop my bar and glare down at the small guy beside me.
“What?”
“Hey, man, just realized who you were and wanted to come over and get your card. You built an apartment complex for my company awhile back, and we were wanting to do another project like that soon.”
“And you are?” I ask, not believing a word this little shit says for a second. He’s slick and wearing all the top brand athletic wear but screams slimeball.
“Name’s Darren Henry. I’ll be in touch this week to set something up. We have a site in mind. Just wanted to introduce myself.”
His grin turns my stomach, and I can’t wait to get away from this guy. I look to Lyla and her back is still to us as she listens to music on her headphones. I nod and soon he’s backing away.
Lyla and I finish up our Monday routine and head home to shower. We prefer to do it together at home. Not always fucking but always enjoyable. Dinner was amazing and she made me grilled chicken in a mouthwatering sauce, green beans, and twice baked potatoes with cheese and chives.
It was a long day and we head to bed just happy to be in each other’s arms. I know I love this woman when she’s taken over every aspect of my life and I keep thinking about more. That is scary, and I’m not about to scare her off. Any other woman would be demanding I say the three little words where Lyla would be the one woman to pack up and head back to Chicago if I even hinted at it. No, I’ll show her instead. Another date maybe. Maybe I can patch things up with Marcus and put our little family back together; that would certainly win me points.
For now, I’ll hold her and whisper into her ear how fantastic her ass feels against my cock. I grin devilishly as she grinds back on me. We fall asleep teasing each other, too tired to do anything about it.
The next morning, I have her coffee ready and waiting when she comes down showered and dressed for our day at the retail warehouse. I had a dream, giving me the best idea how to tell her how much she means to me, but I will need Charlie and Marcus in on it, and that comes with its own challenges.
* * *
We arehours into the remodel, and I’m covered in sawdust and sweating through my flannel. Lyla’s knocking out a back wall with a sledgehammer bigger than she is. I laugh and stop what I’m doing, dust off my arms and beard, and head over to be closer just in case she needs me. Not that I make it obvious or she will kick my ass.
I start on stacking the old driftwood she wants to reuse. I’m moving everything to the far side when I spot her phone. There are forty-one missed calls. I pick it up, not even thinking twice about it. We share our phones all the time and have discussed how we won’t ever have anything to hide from each other, so I know she won’t care. She even programmed my fingerprint to hers and I did the same with my phone. If that’s not fucking commitment, I don’t know what is.
I open it and see it’s all from the same number and assume it’s from the asshat who’s been harassing her. Motherfucker. This is the perfect reminder to check in with Roger and get an update. He’s been working around the clock, putting his former military intelligence skills to work for us and I’m grateful for a family friend with a certain kind of connections. Anything that would help my girl. She’s got the wall and hammer down, and Scott, a crewman, is there helping her now. I step outside just in time to meet a mail carrier on a bike who comes to a screeching halt before he runs into me. The tire stops directly against my steel-toe boot. The guy looks up at me and apologies a dozen times.
“Dude, it’s fine.”
I wave him off and step back against the building. He reads the address and pulls out a letter.
“Well, man, this seems to be for you anyway.”
I take the manila envelope, and he takes off. No signature required, I guess. I tear into it and grind my teeth at the threat I read on the note inside. It’s for Lyla from the son of bitch who won’t leave her alone. This shit has got to stop. I take it to my truck and snap a shot of it for Roger. No sender address. I hate that I have to give this to her. I want to shield her and protect her, but I can’t leave her in the dark. I take a deep breath and go in, then ask her if she’ll go to lunch with me.
We head to a hole in the wall China place I know she’ll love. I’m shocked when the chef comes out to meet her. Saying he saw her and wanted to personally say hello and invited her to come cook with him anytime. She is constantly amazing me. I can tell this praise always makes her uncomfortable, but I’m afraid she feels like she doesn’t deserve it anymore. These assholes from Chicago have caused her so much pain, and I’m determined to fix it.
She steps back into the kitchen for a while, but when we sit down to eat, we’re alone and I ease her into it with a kiss and tell her about Roger and that he’s the best man for the job.
I give her the letter to read. It’s the same threat as before. He wants Howard or his money or he’s going to make her life hell. He even threatens to come after her, and I wish I could tell him to fucking try. I will rip any man limb from limb who dares to touch her. She takes the news well, considering, but I see the unease in her eyes. She’s acting strong and believe me I know she is, but she’s scared too. We grab some extra food for the crew and head back to work. We keep busy, me never letting her out of my sight. I’m officially paranoid, and I would be afraid she feels smothered, but she keeps looking at me with a look of adoration. Fuck, I love that look.
