Fuck my life! I thought viciously as my foot slipped a bit again. Garrett and Owen were putting in the wood flooring, Connor and Da were checking the wiring as Da was the electrician of our crew, and I was on the roof of the new River’s Edge Bar, setting cement around the stones that framed the chimney. Even though it was stone veneer, we still needed to make it as authentic-looking as possible. I unfortunately got put on the building team with Patrick and Angus, and of course drew the short straw to go up on the roof. This did not fill me with joy—I was sick of the drama that seemed to want to follow me.

It was Friday morning, only five short days after the barbecue at the Lair. It was amazing how much had happened in just five days.

On Monday, Table had come to the job site, rumbling up on his black and silver Harley.

“Hey, Eva, what’s shakin’?” he had asked, pulling off the small helmet some called a brain bucket. There wasn’t a lot of it there and I wondered how much protection it would provide in a real crash.

“This damn miter saw, that’s what! Blade’s been running rough all day, but the boss doesn’t want to put money into a new one.” I shot a pointed look at Da, who was standing by one of the finished walls. Connor was with him, ticking off measurements and running a plumb line to check for straightness.

“How are you?” I asked.

“I’m good.” He grinned and then winced as I drew the circular blade down, forcing it to bite into the two-by-four at an angle. The saw screamed in protest and I had to grip the piece harder in my work glove to make it stay put. “Damn, baby! Sounds like you’re killing it!”

“Nope, we’re just fighting a bit. But I’m going to win,” I grunted as the piece finally cut, not as cleanly as I would have liked, but until Da coughed up a new blade I had to make do.

“Ha! Told you!” I crowed, holding the angled cut up like it was show-and-tell.

He grinned at me. “No doubt. Speaking of winning, we never did get that pool game in yesterday. You busy tonight? We can go grab a bite at this Mexican place I know over in Maggie Valley and play a few games at the bar.”

“Is this like a real date?” I asked, tossing the piece and picking up another one.

He preened. “It’s not like a real date, it is a real date. Dinner and a game of pool instead of dinner and a movie.”

Something about using the D-word felt really, really wrong.

Maybe it was because Stud appeared in the work trailer’s doorway. He took off his nerd glasses and stared hard at Table. I guessed we were done. No more surprise visits with food or beer, no throwing microwave popcorn at each other while arguing the intricacies of sci-fi films, no cuddles, and no more kisses.

Stud had been really short with me the couple of times I had to speak to him this morning. He could just be having a bad day, but it was such a change from how he normally treated me that I had to wonder. It couldn’t have been anything to do with that confrontation he had with Table at the party, could it? What was that even about—I still didn’t speak biker, but if it was about me, and that’s why Stud was being a dick this morning, he needed to get over himself. He’d been with more than one woman since I’d met him. Fuck that!

“I—um—no, I don’t have plans. I’ll go on a date with you.”

I went out with Table that Monday night to a Mexican place about a half hour’s ride on the back of his big black Harley—which was a blast! I was so getting a bike of my own as soon as I could. Table was the perfect gentleman. Even with his scary biker look, which seemed to intimidate everyone at the restaurant, he was polite and nice. He opened doors for me, guided me through the maze of tables with a hand at my waist, let me order first, held my hand any chance he got, and when we went to a local bar to shoot pool, he let me break the first game. We talked, smiled, and laughed. He was a terrific man, and I felt comfortable enough with him to share my secret love of sewing. I really was starting to like him.

The date was great and ended with a long, wet kiss in front of my tiny house. That was it. No pushing to spend the night or take it to the next level. He came to my place Tuesday night and we watched a movie curled up on my sofa bed. It felt strange to be curled up next to Table instead of Stud, but it was obvious to me that he was done. I couldn’t say it didn’t hurt, but I also knew it wasn’t my problem.

Table talked about his soon-to-be ex-wife and his shitty marriage. I talked about my life on the road. He told me his real name was James. I showed him the quilt I had started, and he seemed impressed.

“I have a queen size at my place, babe. No particular color scheme,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “Just saying.”

When he kissed me, he did it soft and stealthily. His lips molded to mine, and he flicked his tongue against them until I opened for him. I could feel the excitement build in both of us. I squirmed against him, wanting more, and found myself on my back with him pressing me into the cushions. My mouth was full of his taste and my body on fire. One of his hands drifted upwards and covered my breast, flicking my nipple back and forth with his thumb. I gasped into his mouth at the electricity shooting through me. He pulled down the shoulder of my tank top, and my bra strap with it. He sucked my nipple into his mouth while rolling the other between his fingers and I cried out at the sensations that set the nub of flesh between my legs pulsing with unfamiliar need. I was ready to panic, but didn’t want this ache to stop.

He let go of my nipple with a soft pop. Breathing hard, he closed his eyes as if pulling himself back into control.

“Separation papers are filed, but technically I’m still married, sweetheart,” he said, threading his fingers through my mine and looking directly in my eyes. “You know I gotta thing about cheaters. I want you bad, but I can’t until I’m fully divorced. It’s happening real soon. Can you wait?”

Yeah, I can wait. I also can’t wait!

It went to shit Thursday night.

It started out okay. Table picked me up in his truck after a long workday, and we went into town for dinner and to the temporary bar for drinks and pool. Stud’s band was playing, and he was fiddling on stage with his equipment when we arrived. He had his normal bunch of groupies around him vying for attention, but he still noticed when Table and I walked in. He frowned when Table put his arm around me and pulled me close, staking a public claim. Stud didn’t speak to me or even look in my direction. Fuck him!

I wasn’t sure about a future between Table and me, but I was starting to hope there was one. I was really beginning to like him. He was a good man, one with a lot of integrity, which was a rare thing. Being coupled with him wouldn’t be bad, as I knew he would always treat me well.

A short blonde woman walked in while I was lining up a tricky shot. She was dressed in old jeans and a faded Harley T-shirt. Normally she wouldn’t stand out in a biker bar, except she had a diaper bag over one arm and one of those baby carrier thingies on the other. Not too many parents would bring babies to a bar. She scanned the room, and when her eyes landed on Table and me, her mouth turned down and she strode over to us with purpose. I felt a cold lump settle in my gut. Something was about to happen that may not be so good.

“Table!” she shouted, getting his and everyone else’s attention.

She gave me a hard look and pointedly raised her nose. Really?

“What the fuck do you want?” Table growled, not bothering to look at her. He was eyeing the baby carrier. This was the soon-to-be-ex. He stood next to the pool table, clutching his cue stick between furious white knuckles. Table hadn’t hidden anything from me, and I trusted him. Somehow I knew the baby was a surprise to him.

“We need to talk!” she shouted again, lugging the carrier and the bag to where we were playing.

“I don’t gotta do nothin’ for you,” he snapped back, moving around the table and looking at the pattern of balls. It was clearly a gesture of dismissal, but I noticed his hands were shaking.

“Yeah, you do. Turns out, the kid is yours.” She jostled the carrier containing the now squirming bundle. The baby made a few noises and rubbed a tiny hand over its face.

Table finally looked at her, stunned. “What?”

“It ain’t Jack’s or Mark’s or Richie’s. Only one left is you. DNA test is quick over at t’ hospital, iffen you want to make sure, but you’re the only one left. Gotta be yours.”

She set the carrier and the bag on the pool table, jostling several balls out of place. Neither I nor Table said anything.

“Tim’s outside. We’re heading to the coast. Papers are in the bag for custody. Divorce ones is still on the way only ’cause they make you wait a whole year. All you gotta do is sign ’em and mail ’em. I’m outta here.”

She turned and started walking away.

“Wait a minute!” Table exploded. “You’re just going to walk out and leave—leave—fuckin’ shit! What’s the kid’s name?”

“It’s a girl. I call her Angie. You can change it if you want. I don’t care. Put your last name on the birth certificate already. I gotta go. Tim’s waitin’ for me.”

“You’re just going to leave her here? With me?” Table looked like a ton of bricks just landed on his head. “What the fuck are you doing? You can’t just go run off and leave your baby!”

The woman rolled her eyes, cocked out a hip, and rested a taloned hand on it. “Sure I can. I never wanted to be no mama, and Tim sure as hell don’t wanna be no daddy. You were always talking about family and lotsa kids. Now’s your chance. Good luck!”

She walked out of the bar without a second thought or even a glance at the baby she was leaving behind.

He set the cue stick down and moved to take the tiny bundle in his large hands. I could feel my heart breaking a bit. I didn’t think I’d fallen in love with Table, but I also had grown close to him and was warming up to the idea of us being a real couple. Something I’d never had. Those giant working hands cradled the soft pink bundle with such care, I knew he was lost. His eyes rose to mine.

“Eva.” His look and voice were strained. That would be expected when your world suddenly shifted gears from first to tenth.

“I’ll call Betsey. She’ll know what to do,” I said, pulling out my phone.

Betsey said she was on her way. I watched Table cradle the tiny pink bundle. His club brothers came by to look and the band was silent as the drama continued. I felt Stud’s presence as he came and stood by Table. His eyes looked strange and glossy as he stared at the baby. She fussed a bit and screwed up her face as if gearing up to cry.

Table gave her a finger to grip and she immediately tried to put it in her mouth. Stud rummaged through the bag and found a bottle of formula ready to go and a few diapers. How thoughtful of the raging bitch that was this poor kid’s mother.

Table plugged the bottle into the baby’s mouth and she quieted immediately.

“Eva. This changes things,” he said quietly. “I really like you. I like you a whole lot, but I’ve got a whole new circumstance that I do not know how to handle just yet. I can’t bring someone new in my life when I just found out I have a daughter. Tamara never told me she was pregnant, but I don’t need a DNA test to prove anything. I know she’s mine. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

I smiled at him. My heart wasn’t exactly breaking, but it still hurt. I did understand where he was coming from, and I admired him for stepping up and doing what was right.

“Nothing to forgive. She’s cute. Got your head of hair,” I joked, touching the light fuzz covering the baby’s bald head.

He smiled and chuckled as Betsey arrived. I didn’t know what the club brothers would do without her. She came in and took charge, taking over the baby like it was one of her own grandchildren. Table wanted the baby to ride in his truck back to the Lair but didn’t want to leave me stranded.

“I got her,” Stud stated solemnly. “Band doesn’t need to play and Mute’s thinking about closing early. Doesn’t seem the best of occasions to party. I’m really sorry you’re dealing with that bitch, but congratulations on being a dad. It’s a helluva thing, brother.”

He clapped a hand on Table’s meaty shoulder.

The car seat was firmly secured onto the bench seat I’d occupied a few hours ago. Strains of the Queen song “Another One Bites the Dust” ran through my head as Table hugged me.

“Still friends?” he asked.

What else can I do?

“Always.” I smiled, willing myself to look relaxed and okay with life.

He climbed into the cab and took off. Betsey followed.

Me? I proceeded to get rip-roaring drunk. I didn’t do that often. Working at the job site through a hangover is both miserable and dangerous, but at that moment, I really didn’t care. I had to wrap myself around Stud like a second skin to keep from falling off as I rode with him on the back of his bike. So what if I ran my hands all over his stomach and chest? It was a safety situation!

I was singing “Danny Boy” as I threw my leg over the bike, “Oh Dannneeeboyeeee, da pipes da pipez’er caw-awling!” and nearly pitched headfirst into the parking lot gravel. “Oopz! Sorry ’bout th’ song. Thas all I know.”

Yes, I even giggled.

Stud wasn’t having it. His face stayed aloof and unsmiling as he got off, kicking out the stand to lean the bike over. He was still sober. Party pooper!

“You gonna be all right? I’ve never seen you like this since you’ve been here.”

I screwed up my face and flipped my hand. “Nah! Am good. Doncha know by now? Am Eva MacAteer! Am every wonz frien!”

I threw out my arms in what was supposed to be a grandiose move and almost ended up on my ass again. Stud caught me and dragged me upward.

“Let’s get you in bed before you fall down.” He took my key, unlocked my house, and pushed me inside. “You gonna barf?”

“Maybe.” I burped. My lady lessons were sadly lacking. “Doan matter, Ah’ll geddup inna mornin’ and report for duty as always. Hee-hee-hee! Ah said doody!”

Stud almost smiled at my slurred joke that was more suited for a first grader. I was happy to see it. Happy enough to share my wise thoughts with him as any drunk woman would.

“Aryoo still mad at me?” I flopped on my couch and slid to my side. Staying upright was just too much. “Ah doan wan yoo ta be mad at me. Ah doan like it when yer mad. Ah liked it bedder when we were frins.”

“I’m not mad, Eva,” he said, pulling a quilt over me. The same one we both had draped over ourselves when we were movie buddies.

I burped again. “You really needta stop treatin’ women like that,” I informed him sagely. I was sure the burping ruined the effect, but at the time everything made perfect sense. “And y’also need da stop lettin’em treat you that way too.”

Stud blinked and stiffened. “You’re not drunk enough to tell me what to do, Eva.”

I kept on. “You doan ged it! You luuuuuv women, and treat them sooooo nice when ur with ’em. But winna woman starts ta think mebbe she’z special to you, poof! She’z gone an’ yoo fin’ anudder one. Itz like a colleshun, collec-shun, a colleckt-shum. You ged da word! You can’t handle jus’ one! Mebbe one ada time! Hee-hee-hee!”

Stud wasn’t amused at me this time.

“I can’t blame yoo mush. Da women yur with make you inno a trophy, too! Zere jus’ as bad! Always chasin’ yoo like you’re sum sorta trophy. Itza big deal at the club to bang the Stud! Hey! Tha’ kinda rhymes!”

Why is it I was so much smarter when I was drunk? I grabbed at Stud’s hand because he really needed to pay attention and hear my smartness. “Yur a speshul man, an’ shud be treated rite.”

I was losing it. The alcohol was in full swing, hitting me hard.

“Ah wish Ah was speshul,” I intoned, forgetting for a moment I had an audience and I was talking out loud. I was fading fast. I’d never been a wild drunk and very seldom got this bad. Time for me to pass out before I shared more wisdom than I should.

The world tilted on its axis and I went out like a light. The last thing I heard—or thought I heard—was Stud saying, “You are more special than you think, Eva.”

Fast forward to this morning.

Patrick and Angus, of course, hearing over the grapevine I had a rough night and was hungover like hell, made it their mission to annoy the bejezus out of me by flicking the pulley rope at me or throwing me tools that were just barely within reach.

“Quit fucking around, you two jackasses!” I yelled at them irritably as Patrick flicked the rope just as my hand touched it to pull out another stone from the swinging bucket. The best way we had to haul the heavy rocks to the roof was to rig a pulley system to the chimney framework and pull a heavy bucket up from the ground. Patrick was in charge of putting the stones in the bucket and getting them to me. Angus was mixing the cement that also made its way to me. Eventually, one of them was supposed to come up to the roof, bring me a new safety harness, and add his hands to the work. The one I had on had a bad frayed spot I didn’t notice earlier when I was strapping in. So far today, both of them had come up with excuse after excuse for why they couldn’t be the ones to climb the ladder and join me. They never did bring me that new harness.

“Eva, lass, you’re doin’ such a fine job, I’d hate to go up there and mess it up!” Angus laughed. “Here’s another trowel for you. You can have one in each hand!” He tossed up a wide flat cement smoother and I had to duck so it wouldn’t hit me.

“Asshole!” I yelled at him angrily. The slick cement was mixed with too much water so it was running off and the stones were slipping out of place. Not to mention I was covered with the stuff, as I’d managed—with a little help from them—to get splattered head to toe. “Make this shit right, Angus! I’m not in the mood to play, you fuckwad! Let’s just please get this done!”

“Ooh! Eva got a hot date tonight? Maybe Angus is getting you back for cockblocking him at the club last time we were there!” Patrick yelled up, laughing. This earned him a wad of cement in the face from Angus.

“Hey, dumbass! I got in there, all right? She couldn’t keep her hands or her mouth off me!” he preened.

“What was her name again?” Patrick garbled around the cement he was spitting out.

“How the hell should I know?” Angus laughed.

“I’m in the fucking twilight zone!” I muttered, slapping a sinking stone back in place. I was about to yell at them again when a familiar sound hit my ears. The roar of Stud’s Harley announced his arrival to the job site. I swallowed any further comments and troweled more cement around the chimney, trying not to look in his direction. Fuck my life! I did not know how to handle this, knowing he’d seen me at a really low point, drunk off my ass and saying crap I had no business saying. Men and women. Dating. Feelings. Kissing. Not kissing. Gah! Drama!

I risked a glance in his direction and caught him frowning at me up on the roof. I couldn’t see it, but I imagined his lips tightening in disapproval. He moved into the building, I was supposed to meet with Connor and Da. I stared for a moment and then, stiffening my jaw, kept working. Who was he to judge me?

“Eva, your stones are slipping out!” I heard a split second before one of the stones in the milky cement fell out and hit my head and shoulder. That might not have been so bad, but the strike threw me off balance and tumbled me off the roof. The safety harness held for a moment and then snapped. I didn’t even have time to curse. I fell fifteen feet and landed flat on my back and shoulders. My head bounced off the pavement, and I didn’t just see stars, I saw fucking galaxies. I heard loud raucous laughter coming from Patrick and Angus through the ringing in my ears, but couldn’t move. I could only lay there, one big bundle of shock, as in slow motion, the stones I had painstakingly tried to keep in place slid off the wet chimney. I had a split second to think oh shit, this is gonna hurt before a dozen or so heavy stones fell on me. I felt something give in my ribcage and something else bury itself in my left leg. Fuckers! I thought, fighting to get breath enough to scream at them that I was really hurt. I couldn’t breathe. Come on, Eva. Breathe. Nothing. No voice. No breath. Fuck me, I’m going to die right here on a job site with my asswipe brothers laughing at me for falling off a roof.

I heard a roar. Actually, maybe two roars. I wasn’t sure. I did know the pressure around my ribs finally lightened and I was able to draw in a breath. Then the real pain hit. Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck ME! Someone knock my ass out! I fought it, trying to get up, trying to run from it. I gagged with it, which didn’t help my ribs any. Holy fucking shit, someone please knock my ass out!

“Be still, baby, be still.” Stud was holding me down, cradling my face in his hands while Connor lifted and threw away the stones that covered me. “I know it hurts bad, but you have to stay awake.”

“I don’t want to!” I managed to wheeze. “If you’re any kind of fucking friend, punch my lights out!”

“That’s my girl. Keep arguing with me, Cactus. Ambulance is on the way.” His mouth grimaced in an attempted smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. There was fury and fear in them.

“Ah, Christ, look at her leg!” Connor said, putting pressure on it. White-hot agony zapped a sudden lightning strike in my lower half and I screamed.

“Fuck! Fucking hell!”

“Don’t touch it! It may be the only thing plugging the main artery. Keep her still, Stud, and I’ll get a tourniquet going.” Someone knelt beside me and started wrapping something. I was drifting a bit, then whatever they did nearly brought me straight up.

“Son of a motherfuckin’ bitch!” I yelled, my ribs protesting the sudden movement. My head spun, and my vision was going gray.

“Wait, what? Is she really hurt?” Angus asked in a bewildered little boy voice.

“What do you think, you stupid fuck?” Stud growled at him, still holding me. “Baby, stay awake. Argue with me, fight with me, get mad as hell at me, but please stay awake.”

I was floating between consciousness and unconsciousness. Passing out seemed like a good idea, even though Stud didn’t want me to do it. Maybe I was going to die. I looked at his eyes, the only thing left I had that I could focus on.

“I really miss you.” My tongue was thick, and I was having trouble making the words come out. I didn’t even know if I sounded coherent. I stopped fighting the creeping blackness and let myself slide into it.