“Mmm yes,” she murmurs in to my ear, her hand gripping tight onto my dick. When she slides on to me, I squeeze my eyes closed.
“Fuck, Mack, you feel so fucking good.” My hands grip her thighs and she starts to grind on my dick, moaning loud and not holding back when it comes to riding me. It’s hot as fuck, watching her come undone on top of me. Her pussy’s milking me and the way she’s arched back has her tits on perfect display. Easy access.
I reach up and run my thumbs over her nipples and her head falls back, her long hair grazing my shins and her moans and hips pivoting are bringing me closer to release than I’d like to already be.
“Like that?” I whisper, grunting then bringing my hands to her hips and when I let my thumb slide over her clit, she lets out a loud moan and fucks me harder. I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to hold off longer, and when I open them again, Caroline’s there…not Mackenzie.
“The fuck?” I blurt and her face twists.
“You think you love her, Ford?” She growls, bending closer to me then lets out this shrill laugh.
“Fuck!” I scream out, bolting out of bed and staring at the mattress like she’s going to be right there next to me. My dick’s hard as a rock, I’m sweating profusely, and my heart’s about to beat out of my chest. “What the fuck?” I mumble, rubbing my face. I start to pace the room, the anxiety over everything getting to be too much. I’m a week out from the anniversary. I’ve been doing fine.
What the fuck was that all about?
My head starts to spin and I pace the floor. I need a drink. I need a fucking drink and I need to calm down. This is normal. The nightmares typically start right around now and don’t let up until at least January. I thought I was beating it, though. I thought fucking falling in love with Mackenzie would make it better, but that dream was too real and too fucking horrifying.
I grab my phone and shoot her a text, praying she’s up. It’s two in the morning and I doubt she is but I made her a promise and I will stick to it.
Me: I need you.
I hate using those words in that manner. I hate needing her so much for this…but she’s it. She’s my addiction. Though if I’m being honest with myself, a shot of whiskey sounds fucking amazing right now. My hand’s twitching and there’s still sweat beads forming on my forehead.
Text me back, Mack. I need you.
I huff and stand, pacing the bedroom. I can do this. I can make it through this. It was just a dream. I know she wants me happy. I know I love Mackenzie in a much different way than I ever loved Caroline.
Motherfucking hand, stop shaking.
I walk to the kitchen for some water and the bottle of scotch I bought for Lincoln’s birthday present is sitting there staring at me. One swig would do fucking wonders right now.
I reach for the cabinet and fill a glass with water from the sink, keeping my eyes trained on the scotch bottle. One drink won’t hurt anything, will it?
As I reach for the bottle, I hear my phone ringing from the bedroom and pause. That’s Mack’s ringtone. Who else would call me at this time of night? Blinking a few times, I notice my hand not shaking as bad and the need for the scotch replaced with a waning want.
What the fuck am I doing?
I run to the bedroom so I don’t miss her call.
“Hey,” I say immediately.
“Are you okay? You’re not answering my texts. What happened?”
“I uh…” I rub the back of my neck. “I had a dream,” I mutter.
“Bad?” she asks, sleep lacing her tone. I feel bad for waking her up, but I need her and once again, she’s saved me. I’d like to think I wouldn’t have done it had she not called…but I’ve done stupider things in the past.
“Pretty. Yeah. We were…me and you…we were fucking.”
“That doesn’t sound bad,” she says and I can tell she’s grinning.
“Yeah, except at the end you turned into…well into Caroline. And she was pissed about me falling in love again…”
“Damn.” Mackenzie’s tone is more awake now and I hear some background noise, probably her sitting up in bed.
“I’m sorry, Mack. I don’t fucking know what happened. Or what it means.”
“It means you’re stressed. That’s it. There’s a lot going on this month…” she trails off and I press my lips together, pacing my bedroom.
“I didn’t do it,” I blurt.
“Didn’t what?”
“Drink. The scotch. I didn’t do it. I wanted to, but I didn’t.”
“You’ll get through this. Maybe I should start sleeping there until the worst of it’s better?”
I smile, because she knows the date’s coming up this week and she’s not annoyed or angry. She wants to help me and I don’t know how lucky I am to have her. My heart rate’s returned to normal. I’m no longer afraid to lie down in bed and when I do, I realize my body’s stopped shaking.
“Probably be for the best,” I whisper, grinning. “Probably just forever,” I mumble.
“Can we talk about this tomorrow? Or…shit…later today?” Her voice sounds like she’s lying back in bed, muffled and sleepy.
“I love you, Mackenzie.”
“I love you, Ford. Get some sleep, okay?”
“You too.” I end the call and stare at the ceiling, the threat of the scotch in the kitchen no longer even a worry in my mind. It’s amazing how she does that.
“You fuckers ready for this?” I blurt, walking into the room. My sister’s eyes immediately go wide and Lincoln blurts out a laugh.
“This is a church basement, Ford,” Reagan says, shaking her head. “You can’t talk like that here!”
“Since when do I go to church, Sis? I’m surprised I’m not bursting into flames right now anyway.” I shrug off my jacket and help Mackenzie with hers. She’s smiling softly at me and sets the cookies down on the table. She’s been quiet all night and it’s almost disarming.
“My mom’s recipe. Something about oatmeal and chocolate chip cookies.” She says to Wren and Wren dives in, taking two for herself.
“Beer, Mack?” Lincoln’s hand is already in the cooler grabbing her one and the look on her face when she answers is more awkward than it usually is.
“No…thanks. No thank you. No. Nope.” She plops into her seat and grabs a handful of candy.
“You can drink in front of me, Mack. It won’t hurt my feeling,” I whisper in her ear as I sit in the empty chair next to her.
“Just that one feeling?” She smirks at me and touches my dimple. “I’m fine. Seriously.”
“You sure?” Wren says, giving her a weird look.
“Positive.” She beams a smile and Wren’s face twists into a strange smile.
“The fuck’s your guys’ problems tonight? Did we get high before this and no one invited me?” I furrow my brows and cross my arms in front of me. “Whose idea was it to have a trivia night for Linc’s birthday?”
“I, for one, love trivia nights. And don’t love going out and getting smashed. So this is perfect for a birthday party!” He pats my back as he walks over to his seat.
I roll my eyes, making fun of how nerdy he is, but secretly excited to show him up. We haven’t done trivia night in a long time, and last time I almost knew more than he did. I’ve been studying up over the last few months so I’m about to rock his fucking world.
“Hey isn’t that Ford’s shirt?” Lincoln asks Mackenzie and I grin.
“Looks better on her,” I say, winking at Lincoln as a smile lifts his lips. He knows what this shirt means to me, but seeing Mack so fucking cute in my goddamned shirt and leggings makes my dick do things it never did for me when I wore it.
“You want a hug?” She asks Lincoln and starts to stand but I pull her back to her seat.
“My hands on that ass only,” I say, laughing when Lincoln blurts out a laugh.
“Mom and Dad are here, finally,” Reagan says, helping my parents with all the food they brought. “It’s almost time to start.”
We all get settled and the evening starts with a bang when I know the answer to every single question in the first round. Granted, the round is titled ‘beers of the world,’ so it’s a given I’d know, but still. One point Ford, no points Lincoln.
“Next round, Presidents of the United States,” the caller announces and Lincoln smirks from across the table at me.
“You ready for this, Bro?” he asks and Wren bursts out a laugh.
“You two are mega nerds,” she snickers.
“Oh it’s on,” I say, rubbing my hands together.
“You idiots know we’re all on the same team, right?” Reagan tosses a pencil at me and grins. “Beat his ass.” She winks and Lincoln scoffs and when the first question is read out loud, I don’t even have to wait to answer.
“What was Lincoln’s nickname?” the announcer calls out and I immediately write ‘Honest Abe’ on the paper then smirk at my brother.
“I knew that,” he says, rolling his eyes and leaning back in his seat.
“Fucking twat!” Someone from a table nearby yells out and I glance around to see who’s already drunk tonight. These nights usually end in lots of drunks, but this early is a little surprising. “Wait, we’re talking about the President?” I hear again and this time I perk up a little. My family’s known around here, and most people don’t have a problem with us. Wren’s parents don’t really like us that well, but they tend to stay away and not cause any trouble.
“Who the hell is that?” I ask anyone at the table that’ll answer.
“Next question!” They’re ignoring the drunk and pretending he’s not here, but he’s going to start something if he’s not careful. I still have yet to find the man. It’s busier in here tonight than usual. “Who was the thirty-fifth President of the United States of America?”
I smirk at Lincoln when his eyebrows pull together and I write the answer on the sheet.
“So, who is it, big brother?” I ask, showing Mackenzie the answer. She grins and nudges me.
“Be nice,” she whispers, then grabs the paper. “I like that name.”
“You like Kennedy?”
“As a name. Yeah,” she states blankly at the paper.
“You know we’re all named after the presidents, right? Even Carter. All of us.” Reagan asks Mackenzie.
“I did…I just really like Kennedy…” she trails off, her behavior off tonight from the other nights we’ve hung out with my family.
“Not a fucking West, that’s for sure!” The voice yells and this time I shoot out of my seat, finding the source of the outbursts tonight.
“Mother fucker,” I growl. Glancing down at Mackenzie, she’s in her own little world staring at the paper. “Mack. You know he was gonna be here tonight?”
“Who?” Her eyebrows pull together and she’s snapped back to reality.
“Eric.” I nod towards his table and he’s snickering, glaring at us. “He’s fucking drunk again and spouting things off.”
“Leave it be, Ford,” my father says, watching me carefully. “It’s not worth it tonight. And not here.”
“He’s right, you know. You don’t want to start a fight in the basement of a church.” Lincoln’s arms are crossed in front of him and his eyes are on Eric’s table.
“He’s starting it!” I boast and Mackenzie pulls me back down into my seat.
“Please. Not here,” she whispers and I huff, annoyed. The man shouldn’t be allowed to get away with shit like this. Nobody did anything wrong to him.
“Fine,” I say, resigning and trying to let the anger roll off my shoulders.
I try, but the rest of the evening his comments keep getting louder and more inappropriate. At one point he even pointed towards my sister, talking about sluts, and I thought my dad was going to lose it. Lincoln’s been giving me looks the last few minutes that tells me he’s done, too.
So fucking done.
By the end of the night I’m ready for a drink, and that’s saying something because Mack is right here by me, holding my hand as we walk out of this place. I’ve never disliked being in a church so much.
“Figures the fuckin’ nerds would get first place,” Eric snickers from behind us and my hand tightens on Mackenzie’s. Her face pales when I look at her and I spin, pinning him to his spot.
“I bet your ass is jealous of the shit that comes out of your mouth, Eric,” I growl. We’re not in the basement anymore, and I have no problem kicking this guy’s ass in a parking lot. It’s not the church.
Lincoln appears next to us and Wren takes Mackenzie a few steps back as Eric stands there, fists at his side.
“Maybe you should go home and sleep it off, Eric,” Lincoln says, trying to diffuse the situation.
“Maybe you should go home and sleep with your whore of Springfield. How about that? Fuckin’ running away from responsibilities and shit.” He spits at Lincoln and Lincoln jumps back so it doesn’t land on him.
“Go the fuck home!” Lincoln bellows, arm outstretched away from us, and my heart rate’s spiked so high I’m sure it’s unhealthy. Eric grins then turns to me.
“And you, killing girls a hobby? Zie better watch out, she’ll be the next dead one,” he says then snickers.
He never sees the punch coming. My fist lands against his cheekbone and the pain of the hit doesn’t even register. He staggers back but doesn’t fall. An evil laugh comes out of him right before he charges me. We go down hard to the rock parking lot and he swings back, his fist flying at my face and he hits me hard enough for pain to radiate and rage to burn. He pulls back and tries for it again, but I’m able to turn away the last second so all he gets is a knuckle-load of gravel. He wails again and in his recovery, I spin over, slamming him to the ground and land enough punches until he’s not retaliating anymore. Everything around me blacks out and I go royally fucking mad on this asshole. He’s lying there, still conscious but laughing his ass off, blood rolling out of his nose and eyebrow and his lip split.
“Let’s get out of here,” Lincoln says, pulling me off him. I shove him away when he tries helping me up and land one more kick to Eric’s gut before spitting on him.
“Don’t fucking come near anyone I love. Ever.” One more kick to the groin helps take away all the stress he put on me tonight and I glance up at Mackenzie who’s watching me through glistening eyes. “Let’s go home.”
She takes the keys from my pocket without talking to me and I rip my shirt off, tying it around my bloodied knuckles. She doesn’t even grin or anything when she revs the engine of the Mustang and I don’t care she’s driving it. I trust her, and I’m fucking sore as shit.
The drive home is silent. I don’t know if she’s pissed or turned on or happy or what, but I didn’t do that for her. I did it for me. Because I hate fuckers like him, and he taunted us all evening. He fucking deserved it.
When we walk into the house, Yellow comes running for us and Mack immediately gets him a treat so he leaves us alone. I head to the freezer and grab an ice pack before falling to the couch.
“You need anything else?” she asks, standing next to me.
“A shot of something,” I grumble, pissed again for no reason. I glance at her and she’s standing there frowning, arms crossed in front of her. “Hell, I’m sorry,” I mutter.
“I don’t know what to do for you, Ford. You just lost your shit.” She shakes her head so I pat the couch next to me.
“Just be with me,” I whisper, and when she sits on the couch carefully, I pull her to me and wrap an arm around her. “I’m sorry if I scared you. But I’m not sorry for doing it.”
She nods. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t wanted to do that to him for months now.” She shrugs and laughs lightly. “You didn’t have to do it, though.”
“I did. And I’d do it again if it meant him not being such a dick next time we run into him. We’re not going anywhere and neither is he. We should both be able to live in this city without him treating us like that.”
She nods, picking at her nail polish. She’s been weird tonight, even before the parking lot.
“Everything okay?” I ask, shifting the ice to my head where he landed his one hit.
Her head bobs slowly and she tucks her legs under her. She softly touches my knuckles, sighing heavy then looking up at me.
“I’m late,” she whispers, her eyes widening and worry striking her beautiful features.
“Late…to? I thought we had all night together?”
She lets out a small laugh then shakes her head.
“No, Ford. Late. I’m late. As in, my period’s late.”
“I…” My stomach plummets and something soars inside me. Joy? Fear? Hope? “Are you?” My eyes flick to her stomach and I drop the ice pack, bringing my hands to cup her cheeks. She’s biting her lip and shrugs.
“I haven’t taken a test yet, so I don’t know. But I know it’s been a couple months since my last period and everything else fits…” She pushes her lips together and I press mine to hers immediately.
“We gotta get you a test, babe,” I whisper on her lips, then pull back and stand, pulling her with me. “Come on,” I blurt.
“We can’t go with you this bloody,” she laughs, then pauses and shakes her head. “Is it crazy I kind of hope I am?”
“If it is, then I’ll go crazy with you, Mack.” I sweep her up, ignoring the pain in my hand, and slam my lips to hers, spinning her and when her feet land on the ground, she looks like my Mack, not the worried, ball of nerves she was all night tonight. It all makes sense now.
I hop in the shower, making quick work of cleaning everything off me and when I’m dressed and finally ready to go, I find her sitting on the couch staring at the floor.
“You ready?” I walk over to her and her eyes hit mine as she brings her fingers up to brush the bruising on my face.
“Are we insane?”
“Yes. Absolutely. But I wouldn’t change it for the world, Mack.” I grab her hand and pull her up, wrapping my arms around her. “So we’re doing things backwards. Maybe. It’s all relative. Anyway, it’s the twenty-first century. The whole order of operations is long gone.” I push my lips to her forehead and she sighs.
“I’m nervous. Look at my hands.” She holds her hands up and I notice the tremble in them. Taking them and pressing my lips to hers softly, I smile.
“There’s nothing to be worried about, Mackenzie. If it’s negative, we keep going on with our lives. If it’s positive…” I shrug. “Well, then we’re in this together. Parenthood sounds terrifying, but there’s no one else in this world I’d rather do this with.”
“Okay.” She pauses. “Can I drive your car again?” Her lips lift into a grin and I bark out a laugh.
“That’s a hard no,” I say, walking out the front door with her right behind me.
“Think we got enough?” I ask, wired. The counter’s lined with about twelve different types of pregnancy tests. Mackenzie thought I was joking when I said I was buying them all, but I wasn’t. I’m not about to have uncertainty in my life when it comes to this.
“I think you went overboard,” she says laughing, then chugs the bottle of tea I bought. The final of the four large ones I got her.
“Almost time to pee! You drank those in no time flat. I’m impressed.” I nod at the jug in her hand and the rest on the table in the living room.
“I’m full,” she groans.
“Drink!” I blurt, smiling at her. She touches my dimple and sighs then finishes the last bottle.
“Okay, you ready for the first one?” Her eyes widen when I toss her the package.
She tears it open and the anticipation is killing me. When she sits on the toilet and pees on the stick, I can’t stop grinning.
“You’re pissing in front of me for the first time ever. And it’s on a stick…”
“Trust me, I know,” she says, unamused. “You could wait out in the living room while I do this, you know?”
“Nah. I want to be involved in the whole experience.” I shrug. “Plus, it’s strangely hot as hell watching you do this.”
“Pervert,” she says, laughing. She brings the stick up and caps it, wrapping it in a long piece of toilet paper and setting it on the counter.
“You gonna have enough pee for all these?” I hold up another test for her and she groans.
“Maybe some cups? Those mugs of yours?” She smirks and I bark out a laugh.
“No fucking way you’re pissing in my coffee mugs. I got some plastic things I’ll bring in. We’re doing this right.”
She laughs as I leave the room but I’m not joking, again. I think she thinks I’m not serious, but I’m serious as hell when it comes to potentially being a father. I didn’t ever want to be a dad, but the minute Mackenzie hinted that she may be pregnant my heart soared and suddenly I had my…our…entire lives planned out.
By the time I walk back in the bathroom she’s sitting on the floor, the test she just took in her hands.
“Is it done? Did you read it?” I blurt, dropping the cups in the sink.
“Not yet,” she whispers. “It’s been long enough, though.”
I sit on the floor next to her and take the test out of her hands, slowly unwrapping the toilet paper.
“Wait,” she blurts, her hand grabbing mine. She turns and looks in to my eyes. “Ford, promise me this doesn’t change anything. Either way, whatever this says… I still love you. I’ll always love you. Please promise me this won’t change anything.”
Her hand’s trembling and as nervous as she is, she’s still the cutest damn thing this side of the Mississippi.
“You’re a part of me, Mack. Always. Nothing will take that away from us.”
She pulls her hand away and I unwrap the test. The line that immediately showed up is still there, bright as day, but the second line’s that supposed to be there isn’t.
“Negative,” she whispers quietly as she slowly blinks at the test.
My heart sinks and a frown comes across my face.
“Hey, we have a ton more to try. Maybe a digital one next? These old style lines are pretty old fashioned…” I stand, tossing the negative test in the trash and grabbing her arm to help her up. My heart’s beating out of my chest because for once I was excited about the possibility of becoming a father, and with one negative test in the books I’m realizing what I want isn’t what I’m going to get. Fuck me, Mack would be a sexy pregnant woman.
“Maybe I’m not though. Maybe I’m just super late or skipped a period or something,” she mutters, walking over to the cups. I wash my hands and when I look at her, I smile.
“Take the cups. Pee in them. Let’s get these tests going.” I clap my hands, then lean in and press my lips to hers. “Just to be sure.”
She sighs and pushes her pants down again, squatting on the toilet. I give her space, mainly because I need time to process the fact that she may not be pregnant. I’ve spent the last few hours completely ecstatic that I was going to be a dad. I guess I counted my chickens before they were hatched. Now I have to be strong for her because from the looks of it, that negative test devastated her.
Once she’s got them all set she walks out of the bathroom and shrugs.
“Now we see. If all those are negative I refuse to do this again.”
I walk over to her and wrap my arms tightly around her.
“And if they’re all positive?”
“You’re going to have to get a new shower curtain,” she says into my chest.
I laugh hard and hug her tighter, pressing my lips to the top of her head. “I have at least six years until tiny Ford figures out how to read it. I’m fine.”
She laughs and we stand there until the timer goes off from her phone.
“You ready for this?” She takes a step back, eyes filled with raging emotions, and I nod.
“More ready than you are.” I grin and push the bathroom door open, letting her step in first.
“I can’t look,” she squeaks, holding her hands over her face. I laugh and roll my eyes.
“I’ll look and then I’ll tell you, ok?” She nods her head and I reach for the first cup.
“Well,” I say, unable to stop the smile from my face. I set it down and reach for the second, then the third. Each cup reading the same.
“What do they say!?” She shrieks, unblocking her eyes and bending to look at all the tests. “Holy shit,” she whispers, her eyes wide. She stands and looks at me. “Holy shit, Ford!”
“I guess that first guy was a Carl.” I shrug, then smile brightly.
“Fucking useless Carl,” she mutters, looking at the tests again. “We’re having a baby!” She yells, jumping into my arms.
I’m going to be a fucking father.
“This is the best fucking news, Mack. Holy hell,” I say, beaming. “We gotta get you a doctor’s appointment! We gotta get you all set up. You need to move in. Like, yesterday. I gotta take care of you guys,” I ramble, my eyes wide with excitement.
“Whoa there, Ford. One thing at a time.” She pats my chest. “Doctor’s appointment. Then telling my parents.”
My mouth falls open. “Oh my God they just met me. They’re going to hate me.”
“Maybe not. They’re not getting any younger. And I know they want grandkids.” She pushes her lips to mine and I can’t help but swoop her into my arms and carry her straight to the bedroom.
“You’ve made me the happiest man alive, Mackenzie Mueller.”
As I lie here watching Mackenzie sleep, I can’t wipe the smile from my face. This girl’s given me everything. She’s taught me how to handle the pain that comes with Caroline’s death in a way I never thought possible. She’s made me want things I never thought I’d be in reach of having. She’s making me a father. That right there’s enough to smile.
My phone starts ringing from the nightstand and I reach over, answering the unknown caller.
“Hello?” I say quietly so I don’t wake her. It’s probably a telemarketer, but just in case it’s family I need to answer it.
“Ford? It’s Mrs. Rayes.”
My entire world stops and the room goes blurry. Why the hell is Caroline’s mom calling me?
“Ford?”
“Ye—” I clear my throat, standing from the bed and leaving the room in a rush. “Mrs. Rayes. It’s me. Hi.”
“I was hoping it wasn’t too early. I didn’t wake you, did I?” Her voice sounds different from the last time we talked. Hell, her parents and I were almost as close as I am with my own parents back then, and I’m ashamed to say it’s been a couple years since I’ve talked to them. We each grieved in our own way. I retreated from them faster than lightening. Almost everything that reminded me of her, I let go of immediately. Including them.
“No. I was awake.” I rub my face and head for the coffee pot. It’s eight am and another day closer to December fourth. The day I dread every year. This year, however, I don’t dread it. I welcome it. Because that’s one day closer to meeting my baby.
“I know it’s been a while, Ford,” she starts as I scoop the coffee into the machine. “I just…this year’s six years.”
“Feels like yesterday,” I mumble, hitting start on the machine.
“It does, doesn’t it?” She falls silent and I sit on the chair, rubbing my face trying to wake up. We were up half the night last night making love and enjoying each other’s bodies until we both passed out from pure exhaustion. And now I have a day full of work to get done this morning.
“So um…” she starts then laughs, “a friend saw you and that Mueller girl at the store last night.”
The line falls silent and I’m suddenly very, very awake. She knows about the tests.
Fuck.
“Yeah?” I ask, standing and grabbing a cup for my coffee.
“Ford, I… I can’t tell you how happy it makes me that you’re finally living your life.” I hear her voice crack and my eyebrows pull together. I was sure as shit she was going to yell at me for moving on.
“Really?”
“Oh absolutely. I know we’ve lost touch, but you always were like a son to us. Caroline was all we had, but we didn’t just lose her in the accident, Ford. We lost you, too.”
I take a sip of coffee, burning my tongue and groaning, resting my head on the counter.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Why on earth are you sorry? You were grieving just like we were. Life happens and, unfortunately, we didn’t have that one thing that kept us all together anymore.”
I sigh. I’ve got nothing to say to her to make things better.
“Well… I just want you to know I’m happy for you. Whatever happened after the store last night…” she pauses and clears her throat. “Whether it’s the two of you, or more… Ford I’m thrilled for you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, standing straight and turning when I hear Mackenzie walk into the room. She’s wearing nothing but the bed sheet and a grin on her face. Her hair’s mussed perfectly and she’s watching me carefully.
“I’ve got to get going to work. We’ll talk soon, okay?”
“Yeah. Bye.” I end the call and grin at Mackenzie. “Morning, sexy.” She walks over to me and just when I think she’s going in for a hug she reaches around me and steals my coffee cup.
“Perfect temp. Thank you.” She takes a sip and smiles at me.
“You probably shouldn’t be drinking that,” I say, leaning against the counter. Her eyebrow raises and I think for a second they’re going to start shooting daggers at me.
“Really?” She says. “You want to see what happens when I don’t get my coffee?”
I pause and consider my options. Then, I grab her hips and press my lips to hers.
“I love you, Mack. And I have to get to work before I’m late.” I smack her ass on the way to the bathroom.
God, I’m never going to get enough of this girl.
“How ya feeling today?” Lincoln’s standing in the doorway of my office watching me carefully. I know why he’s here, and I know what I did was idiotic but the guy had it coming.
“Fine. Why?” I clip, shoving another piece of paper through the shredder. I’m at the point in my day that I don’t really know what I’m shredding, but the sound of it being obliterated helps soothe me. God knows why I feel this way. I thought I woke up pretty snazzy this morning. Then something clicked on the way here and it’s been downhill ever since.
“Well… You just tried firing the weekend manager of the boutique. Reagan’s about to storm in here and beat you to a pulp so I thought I’d try and level out the situation before that happens.” He narrows his eyes at me and walks into the room, sitting in the oversized chair in the corner. “So you wanna talk about it or should I start?”
“He’s probably stealing from her anyway,” I grumble. “Twerp walked into this place today like he owned it. It pissed me off, okay? Don’t walk into the banquet hall when all you do is sell souvenirs and trinkets in the basement, pretending to be all high and fuckin’ mighty.” I toss a wad of paper at the trashcan and it misses. “Shit.”
Lincoln lets out a laugh, stretching out in the seat. “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just insist that all Reagan does is sell trinkets.” He clears his throat. “Maybe you should take the rest of the week off?”
I glare at him.
“It’s Monday. I’m not taking the rest of the week off.” I shove a few papers into my drawer blindly, at the point in my day when all I can think about is tomorrow and it pisses me off because I have the best girl in the world and a baby on the way. There’s no need for this mood today.
Lincoln nods slowly and I watch him stand and walk over to my desk.
“Tomorrow’s a big day, Ford. You can take the day off if you need. Head to the cemetery. Visit her parents. It’s been a while since you went up there.” His eyes hold all the emotions I’d rather not show right now. So I don’t. I push them away and let out a laugh.
“I’m not visiting my dead girl’s parents on the anniversary of her death, Linc. That’s just fuckin’ dumb. I told you I’m fine.” I smile bright for him and he relaxes a little. For being so close with my family, they really have no clue how many times I put on a show for them. How many times I’m not okay but tell them I am just to get them off my case.
“Okay. Well, if you need anything, just let me know. And uh… I think maybe you should apologize to Miguel.”
“Yeah, yeah. I will.” I stand from my desk and head to the water cooler. “Tomorrow. Let the little twerp sweat it out tonight.”
With a huff and a small chuckle, Lincoln leaves me alone in my office.
Finally.
I don’t want to think about tomorrow. I just want the day over with and I want to live in peace with my little family.
My phone dings in my pocket and I smile at the text from my sister.
Reag: You’re a fuckin’ jerk, Ford.
Me: That’s what big brothers are for, Reagan. Looking out for ya.
Reag: How about you let me do my job, the one I’m goddamned good at. You stick to telling people how to set a table, ok?
I chuckle to myself, because she’s feisty when she’s pissed and one day she’s going to find a guy who’s going to try to bring her down a few notches and I feel bad for the poor sap.
Me: Got it. Sorry for stepping on your ugly toes.
Reag: Fuck you
Me: Love you, little sis
Reag: Love you too, idiot
Laughing, I slide my phone back into my pocket and groan, stretching out some sore muscles. Tomorrow’s going to suck. Every year I go through this and every year it’s horrible, but I’m hoping with the turn my life’s taken this year it won’t be as bad as usual. I’m hopeful now that one day I can make it through this week without as much stress and sadness as it’s brought me in the past.
This weekend there are four parties in the banquet hall and while I’m thankful I have a very capable staff at my disposal so I don’t have to be here the entire time, I’m actually sad I don’t have to be here for them. I’m not typically, but all the parties involve Mackenzie and though I’d rather be at home with her, being here at work with her would be just as good. Usually the weeks following December fourth I drink until I don’t remember my name. It’s what I always did. If I didn’t, the days following Caroline’s death include funeral flashbacks, and that’s not something I want to relive. Alcohol used to help take away the pain. Mack’s all I need anymore.
Now I’m sitting here, angry at the world for no reason. I mean…there’s always that tiny reason. Guilt. It’s eating at me and it’s not until I glance at the clock realizing it’s twelve hours on the dot until the accident happened six years ago and think maybe Lincoln’s right.
My hand starts shaking as I put the car into gear. It’s been six years since I’ve been there, but I think it’s time I started making changes.