Chapter 4

It’s a proven fact that bearded men give better oral sex. Ten out of ten women agree.

-Annie’s secret thoughts

Mig

The next morning turned out to be an exercise in patience.

“I’m not going to be there today. I have some papers to file,” I told Griffin.

“Fine with me. But I’m not your boss. Why are you calling me?” Griffin asked. “And what kind of papers are you filing?”

I rolled my eyes.

“I’m calling you because I’m supposed to meet you in half an hour at the office to discuss the case. But I can’t make it there until after lunch, if at all. I have some digging to do…then I’m going to need to go to the courthouse,” I answered dryly.

“You’re divorcing her, aren’t you?” Griffin asked, relief evident in his voice. “Thank fuckin’ Christ.”

“I’ll catch up with you later in the afternoon,” I said, hanging up without giving an answer.

I was at my house, sans my wife.

My wife had woken up at six in the morning and had left before I’d gotten back from my morning run.

Granted, I didn’t much care when she left.

But today I’d intended to follow her to see if she was actually going to work.

It was Sunday, after all.

Most people didn’t go to the office, where they were a receptionist, on Sundays.

And even if they did, perchance, have to go into work on a Sunday, it wouldn’t be at a little past six thirty in the morning.

I usually ran for an hour, and I’d left the house at five twenty.

I arrived home at six twenty to an empty house, pissed off that I’d decided to run early instead of later in the day like I’d told myself to do just because of this very reason.

So now I had to find her.

But first I had to find a car that wasn’t so noticeable.

Lucky for me, I had a neighbor that had one.

I didn’t even care that it was so early. She’d open the door for me no matter what time it was.

I just slipped a t-shirt on over my still wet chest, grabbed my cut from the chair that designated me as a member of the Uncertain Saints MC, and threw it on over my shirt as I walked out my front door.

I paused to lock the door to the house, thinking I’d need to find Jennifer an apartment this afternoon as well and hire some movers that could come out either today or tomorrow to box and move her shit out of the house.

As I made the mental list of things I needed to finish today, I walked across the space that separated my house from Annie’s and went right up her front steps.

I knocked loudly, then bent over to pick a piece of paper off the front porch.

I want you back.

Four simple, little words that had the power to send rage coursing through my veins.

Here I was, fucking married, and I was getting pissed off that Annie’s ex wanted her back.

What a head case I was.

“Ohh,” a voice said from behind me.

I slowly stood up and handed her the note.

But her eyes were still focused on where my ass had been ten seconds before, which meant she got a good look at the erection that was starting to fill out the front of my pants simply from hearing the husky sound of her ‘just woke up’ voice.

Her face flushed, and I finally got my first good look at her without being ‘all done up.’

Her hair was a mess of curls, all piled into a bun on top of her head.

Her face, free of makeup, had me wanting to see it every morning across the pillow from me.

She was wearing tight black shorts that barely covered her ass and a pink tank top that only accentuated the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

The sight of her unbound breasts had my mouth watering with the urge to suck them.

They were perky and luscious, even with their larger size.

I could make out the outline of her nipples through the thin fabric, and I had to clench my hands to keep from reaching out and tracing the pattern with my fingers.

To cover up the problem I was having with gathering the ability to speak, I thrust the note in her direction.

“I’m guessing this is from your husband?” I asked.

She glanced down at the paper like it was a snake ready to strike.

“You can toss it into the trash,” she offered, opening the door wider for me to come in.

I passed by her, accidentally brushing my right arm against her breasts as I moved.

I swallowed, trying to get into her kitchen without making a complete fool of myself.

“Where’d you find it?” Annie asked as she moved into the kitchen behind me.

“Your front porch,” I answered, letting the trash fall into the can before I turned around and pinned her to the spot with my gaze. “I want to borrow your car.”

She lifted her brows at me.

“Why?” She asked in confusion. “Is there something wrong with your bike?”

I shook my head, surveying her kitchen.

She had a huge pile of mail along the back of the counter next to the back sliding door.

The other surfaces in the kitchen were spick and span.

“Nothing wrong with my bike,” I answered. “I just need to borrow yours for a couple hours.”

She crossed her arms and gave me the glare.

You know the one.

Every woman had it perfected before they even hit the age of eighteen.

The one that was supposed to make a man tremble in his boots.

With Jennifer, that move didn’t work at all.

With Annie, though, it only made my primal instincts flare to life.

The urge to fuck the attitude right out of her was instinctive and nearly overwhelming.

“I want to follow Jennifer, but she knows my truck and bike. You drive that little hatchback, and about fifteen hundred people in the vicinity have that car,” I finally answered.

She snorted.

“Was that so hard?” She asked, handing me the keys to her car. “But it’s empty…like running on fumes empty, and I need to leave in about thirty minutes to meet someone.”

“Who are you meeting?” I asked.

She walked to a table where a pile of what looked to be garage sale items sat.

A pillow. A black leather bag. A vase. And a huge rock.

“I’m selling some of my old stuff. I need to have a garage sale, but I’m a lazy person, so I’m not gonna do that. I’ll just sell off a little but at a time,” she answered, pointing to the stuff.

“And you’re going to go meet where?” I asked.

“The mall parking lot,” she answered just as quickly, walking into the back bedroom.

“That’s not very safe,” I said, walking to the living room and looking at the pictures on her walls and mantle as she dressed.

In the first picture she was sitting with her sister, a woman I’d seen from afar since she’d moved in beside me.

The other two were, I guessed, her parents.

They were older versions of the girls, and they were smiling. The man with his arm around the sister. The woman with her arm around Annie.

A picture perfect family.

“I don’t think it’s unsafe. I’m meeting them all around eight this morning in the mall parking lot,” she said from the other room.

The mall wasn’t actually a ‘mall.’

It was a store on the Uncertain/Jefferson border that was sort of a mini dollar store.

It had a little bit of everything, which was why the owners called it the mall even though it wasn’t technically labeled as one.

It was also out in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere, Texas…and not somewhere I’d want Annie meeting someone by herself.

“The mall is not a good place for you to be meeting. And if you’re going to do it today, then I’m coming with you,” I said, booking no room for an argument.

She didn’t answer, which gave me more time to study her photos.

The other ones on the wall were of Annie and her friends, women I’d seen coming here to her house to visit quite a few times since she’d moved in as well.

The last photo my gaze caught on, however, was the one of Annie in a white dress that came all the way down to her ankles.

She was dressed all in white…her wedding dress…with her dad standing at her side looking down at her adoringly.

She was younger, of course, but she was still the same woman I saw every morning as I walked to my bike on the way to work.

The same woman who I’d dreamt about every night since she’d moved in next to me.

“I’m ready,” Annie said from behind me.

I turned, giving one last longing look at the picture before turning to her.

“Cool, let me have your keys,” I instructed.

She raised her head, but nonetheless dropped the keys into my palm.

“Be nice to my baby. She’s on her last legs,” Annie instructed.

I nodded. “Okay. I’ll try.”

In truth, I didn’t think I’d have a problem being gentle with her.

We were on our way, twenty minutes later, with Annie in the passenger seat next to me.

“This has got to be the smallest car I’ve ever had the experience of sitting in,” I grumbled, shifting the gears once again.

Annie laughed.

“Well, you’re six foot three; what’d you expect?” She teased.

I turned onto the road that would take us to the mall and looked over at her.

She was even more beautiful in the morning sun.

The light from the sun shone into her hair, making it have a shimmery, fiery look to it.

She’d changed into a pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt.

She put black boots on that resembled the female version of my own, an expensive pair that I wore nearly every day because they were safe to ride in.

Her hair was in a ponytail up high on her head.

And her hair was still just as messy as the moment she’d answered the door, and I found that I quite liked the look on her.

“I don’t like that you’re meeting out here,” I muttered to myself.

However, Annie picked up on it the moment I spoke and started to look around with me.

“I really don’t see what’s wrong,” she grumbled.

She wouldn’t. She was a woman, after all.

“Shit,” Annie said suddenly. “Pull in there and let me get a bag. They asked me to wrap it.”

I thought that weird, but I didn’t say anything as I pulled into the Dollar Store and watched as she hurried into the store, bought the first thing she could find close to the register, and immediately went to the checkout.

“Okay,” Annie said, dropping into the seat as she tossed a smile my way.

I lifted my brows up at her.

“Tell me about selling your stuff online. What does the process entail?” I asked, backing up.

I couldn’t see shit with her tiny ass mirrors.

So I rolled the window down, turned my head around and contorted my body into a weird angle so I didn’t take anything out with her car.

My luck I would total it.

“I put the stuff I want to sell on a specific Facebook group geared towards garage sale items, and people comment whether they want it or not. Then we meet in a specified spot and complete the transaction,” she informed me, pulling up her phone and scrolling through it.

She turned the phone to me when I reached a stop sign, and I read the post she’d made in Uncertain Garage Sale Page, Buy, Sell or Trade.

“Do you make any money doing this?” I asked, pulling out and speeding up to the required sixty miles an hour speed limit.

“A little bit. Mostly, I do it because I don’t like clutter,” she said.

I nodded.

I didn’t like clutter, either.

And I really didn’t like it now.

Jennifer was notorious for not cleaning up after herself.

How hard was it to put the coffee cup away that you used?

Even more, would it kill her to wash the fucker out in the sink?

“He’s going to be in a blue car on the side of the building,” Annie said.

“FYI, I still think this is a stupid idea.”

Annie laughed. “Noted.”