AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I groan. “After the day I’ve had, I don’t need a rundown of how long you’ve been married, Gabby.”Or that your son is 834 days old and talks back like a virtually challenged sailor!
“Sheesh, Dad should have had a son, Gina.”
“Why? Because I can’t go on living like one?” I mumble for her.
“Exactly! Men can have full-time jobs running corporations and a wife at home. No man goes running after a woman who can play ‘big bank takes little bank’ with him. You make too much. You’re a beast with business deals.”
“Why not commend my accomplishments?” I stop walking dead in my tracks, disgusted by the double standard. “Damn, my neck.”
“You have a crick in your neck that’s not from—”
“Dick?” I cackle, looking up to see that the people drifting across the street have left me behind. That’s life. All alone . . . “First of all, Gabriella, focus on that fresh, tropical vacation glow from the Fourth. Relive those ‘fun in the sun’ memories and let me stew in my misery. The neck pain is from tension, not a dick deficiency.”
“Wouldn’t you rather it be from penis? Also, is the vulgarity necessary, Gina?”
I stare listlessly at nothing in particular. “If it’s any consolation, I know how to sniff out a pen . . . Ha, I’m not using such elementary language, Gabby! I can sniff a dick. I can do all sorts of things with a dick! There aredicksall around the corner.”Damn, I’m such a hater right now. I should’ve taken a vacation on the Fourth of July.
At the crosswalk, a gray-haired man, with his nose upturned, blinks at me. His snooty response only adds fuel to my flame. I argue into the receiver. “I may have a PhD in business management and am more than capable of manhandling a dick. Nevertheless, there’s a shriveled dick in my faceright now. Not in a good way! I’m about to bite it off!”
He snorts, shifting over a few paces.
Gabriella chortles. “You have such a crude sense of humor. One day, you’ll wish I’d assisted you in a love connect—”
“Gotta go.” I press the off button.
This entire day, I’ve felt off my game. I can particularly save a dying deal by softening my tone. But as I finally look up to stroll across the street, I realize I’ve missed something I desperately didn’t know I needed. My eyes glue to the Italian. I work my way over his sculpted frame muscle by muscle. He’s in a V-neck shirt, the collar displaying a massive chest. His jeans are fresher than the last, ready to be torn off, too. As if I’m seeing him for the first time, but Lord knows, I’d reminisced on his body last night in the shower.
Damn it, my legs might as well be sinking into the cement sludge he saved me from yesterday. I’m hardly halfway across the street when he’s strolling over with an unmatchable swagger. Upon breathing in his clean scent, my bottom lip falls agape.That’s the essence of raw power.
I clear my throat. “Well, this is awkward. You were supposed to be at the corner near my home this morning. Now, we’re by my job. So, you really look like a creepy stalker.”
As I continue to walk, his eyes drink in my frame as he follows. “Bella, I was at the corner. I had a scone in hand, assuming you prefer it over a donut.”
A smile plays the edges of my cheeks. “I’m impartial to Krispy Kreme.”
“I bet you know all about cream—”
“Don’t be disgusting.” I play up my presumptuous antics, head held high, and with so much ass for him to watch. “So, what was in the mug?”
The Italian cocks a brow. “You saw me waiting for you?”
You should have asked for my name.“From the comfort of my Uber Lux. You cleaned up.” The fray at the edges of my mouth seeps into a full-blown smile. Damn, why did I say that? Why am I distending the Italian’s already inflated head?
“So, you let me stand there? You’re not a nice woman, are you?”
“I thought that was the appeal?” I retort.
“Yes, definitely the appeal.”
Though I’m seconds away from mentioning the words he’d said in Italian. There’s no such thing as love at first sight, Gina. You’re just the next conquest.But I plan to conquer his dick and send him along. I ask, “What’s your name?”
“Mrs. Galloway, you can call me—”
“Oh, no. While I appreciate the subtlety of how you’ve done your homework, I’m notthatold. So, this is whereI leave you.” I wave, taking a few steps back. “Goodbye. Have a nice life, Freakishly Muscular Italian Guy. FYI, that’s my name for you.”
He offers a boisterous laugh that seems to fill every spec of his abdominals.
I step forward. He holds out a hand. As our fingers brush, all the fireworks I didn’t see on the Fourth of July detonate. Damn, the energy around us has me soaring through the clouds.
