Chapter 6

No, I don’t care if I eat like a child. At least I don’t look like one.

-Hennessy to Krisney

Hennessy

I smiled at the checker that was ringing my Lunchables up.

“How old are you again?”

I looked over at Krisney and grinned.

“Don’t judge me. You know you still eat them, too,” I growled. “Not to mention the fact that I swear I saw you eating those crackers the other day that you spread cheese on with that little red stick.”

Krisney shrugged.

“I’d have killed to have these in Germany,” she told me.

Krisney had been posted in Germany for a stint in the reserves before she’d resigned completely just a few weeks ago.

Although, I couldn’t figure out why she’d left. Each time she talked about it, or I asked her what she planned to do now, she’d get this sad, faraway look on her face.

“Oh, no.”

I turned to the checker and tilted my head.

“What?”

“My car.”

I turned to face out the windows that lined the front of the store, and saw the tow truck backed up against the back of a red Volkswagen Bug.

“Oh, shit,” I said, turning back to her. “They’re taking your car?”

She looked down and scanned the next item.

“Yeah,” she whispered almost soundlessly. “They are. I haven’t paid the note, apparently.”

Anger and uneasiness competed in my gut.

“Do you have anything in the car that you need?”

She shook her head. “Learned that lesson the first time it happened. The only things in there are a couple of jackets that I got at the Goodwill, and a few books.”

She bit her lip at the word ‘books’ and I realized that those books probably meant a whole lot more to her than she was saying.

“Krisney, can you pay for this?” I asked her, handing her my credit card.

Krisney nodded and took the card.

There was no reason to tell her my pin. She knew mine, and I knew hers. We were best friends for a reason.

As a best friend, Krisney had to always be available to listen to me gripe. She had to bring me donuts randomly, and she had to be able to French braid my hair whenever I wanted her to since my French braids sucked ass.

It was only reasonable that she would know my pin number.

I hit the asphalt of the parking lot and started directly for where I could see the top of the tow truck driver’s head.

It was in a buzz cut, and I could swear I knew him from somewhere.

The coveralls were throwing me off, though.

I could see the man’s feet and legs, as well as his upper half, but any and all available skin was covered in an old, dingy, black coverall that hid any distinguishing features from sight.

It wasn’t until I rounded the hood of the tow truck that I got a good look at the man’s backside.

It looked good…really good.

“Excuse me,” I said. “But…”

The man whipped around, eyes filled with surprise, and I got my first good look at the man towing away the poor checker’s car.

“Tate…”

The moment he saw me, his entire demeanor changed.

He’d been frightened and on the defensive, but once he realized I wasn’t a threat, he turned loose.

“Ms. Hanes,” he greeted, turning back around to mess with some knobs at the side of the truck.

Then he pulled a lever, lifting the car up in the air.

“Ummm,” I said, feeling silly now. “Do you think it’d be okay to grab some clothes and a couple books out of this car for my friend?”

He looked over at me, those hazel eyes of his leaning more toward green today than blue. “Company policy says no.”

Company policy says no.

Okay.

“But it’s only a few books,” I excused. “And she wasn’t going to even ask for them, knowing your policy, but I could tell it would break her heart if she didn’t have them. Please?”

He grunted something unintelligible. “Go ahead. Get what you need, but just know that she already had them out of the car when I came and took it.”

I grinned at him, but it was lost on him, seeing as he’d turned around the moment he said that, continuing to do whatever he was doing at the levers and buttons.

I hurried past him to the car, snatched open the door, and looked inside.

There weren’t just a few books in here and a few jackets, there were clothes, pillows, a few toiletries, and what looked to be bread and peanut butter in the front seat.

The checker wasn’t just using this as a vehicle. It looked like her whole life was in the car.

Shit.

I looked back at Tate, and could see him looking in the car right along with me.

He looked up at the sky, counted to ten aloud, and then turned around.

He came back moments later with a big black trash bag.

I didn’t bother to ask him why he had that in his truck. I just thanked him and started shoving everything that would fit into the bag.

By the time I was finished, not only was there so much in the bag that it was bulging out the top—thank God for the Forceflex part of the bag—but I also had an arm full of books.

And I had no freakin’ clue how the hell I was going to get it to the checker, or what she was going to do with it all from there.

“Go.”

I turned, noticed Tate staring at me with his arms crossed over his chest, and reached for the bag.

He brushed my hand away and took the bag himself, nothing straining at all as he picked it up and started walking toward the front of the building.

He didn’t stop at the sliding doors. Didn’t smile or greet any of the people that were standing there, only walked with single minded determination straight to the checker.

“Here,” he said, dropping the bag on the ground behind her, blocking her into the little cubicle. “You left this outside.”

The checker looked at me, then to Tate, and then back to me.

“I did?”

He nodded once, and then turned on his heel and left.

“What the hell?”

I turned to find Krisney standing there, eyes wide.

“Was that Tate Casey?”

I nodded my head.

“He’s gotten big!”

He had.

Much bigger than he’d been when I’d seen him at the church picnic the day my father had embarrassed me in front of the whole congregation—and Tate.

“He has,” I agreed, going up to the bag and moving it after I placed all her books on the counter.

Only, when I went to move it, the sheer weight of it surprised me.

“Wow,” I grunted. “The man acted like this weighed nothing.”

Krisney came up to my side, and we both dragged it out of the way so the checker could make her way out.

“Let me help,” the checker said. “We can take it to the breakroom for now.”

“Are you okay, Lark?” Krisney asked.

Lark, the checker, looked away and started dragging.

Luckily there were no other customers in the store, so they didn’t know how pathetic we all were trying to get the bag through the line of checkouts, and to the breakroom.

“That has to weigh a hundred pounds,” I muttered under my breath. “Seriously, how?”

“Tate was always big.” Krisney pushed it the last few feet. “I’m just seriously impressed that the bag could hold up with all those books in it. A hundred pounds seems mighty impressive.”

“It’s probably more like fifty,” Lark argued. “But since it’s packed so full and awkward, there really isn’t much to hold onto except little pieces with the tips of your fingers. That’s why it feels like it weighs more.”

I hummed something under my breath.

Then a loud voice came from somewhere outside the store. “We’re ready to check out!”

Lark waved a small goodbye and raced away, as if her entire world hadn’t just tilted on its axis.

“She’s taking this a whole lot better than I would have,” I murmured to Krisney. “Isn’t that odd?”

Krisney nodded. “Yeah, it is.”

I hummed in agreement and walked out of the breakroom.

“Where’d you put my groceries?”

“In the car,” she said. “Are we still doing lunch?”

I nodded.

“Tacos, right?”

I nodded again. “It’s Tuesday. It’s a rule in Texas that you have to have tacos on Taco Tuesday.”

***

I was two tacos and two dirty martinis in to Taco Tuesday when he came in the door.

My entire body shuddered, and Krisney immediately took notice.

“What was that?” she asked, leaning into me, her face only inches from mine.

“That,” I lied. “Was n-nothing.”

Krisney leaned even closer, allowing me to smell the spicy tacos on her breath. “You’re lying.”

I turned, and our noses touched.

“We look like we’re about to do it.”

Krisney laughed and backed off.

I turned and surreptitiously looked behind me at the door, only to see the object of my desire watching me.

His eyes were intense, and I turned away.

My smile kicked up a notch, and I reached for my last taco.

“This place is hopping,” Krisney said. “And it looks like we’re not the only ones to think Taco Tuesday is a great thing.”

I didn’t bother to look at where her gaze was pointed.

I knew where the man was. My entire body seemed fine tuned to his every movement.

He sat across the room from me, which unfortunately was only about four tables away since the place we were currently occupying was on the smaller side.

The Taco Shop (literally the actual name of the place) was brand new, but already it’d become one of my favorite places to eat. They served all kinds of tacos. Brisket tacos, original beef tacos, chicken tacos, and even shrimp tacos. They were also all you can eat, and were brought out three at a time. I was on my one—and only—serving of chicken tacos, and working on my rice and beans.

I tried, really, really hard not to notice how Tate didn’t have anyone sitting with him.

For ten minutes, anyways, until a buxom brunette with legs up to her ears walked in, and immediately found him.

I then lost any and all appetite I had left. The woman that had walked in was none other than Tate’s on again, off again, girlfriend.

Her name was Ariya Diebold, and I hated her from the moment my dreaming self had fallen for the town bad boy who never, ever returned her feelings, or gave her a second look.

Ariya was, for all intents and purposes, a very attractive woman…as long as you didn’t listen to the words that came out of her mouth.

Tate, however, obviously didn’t have any problems with her mouth, because he’d been going back to her and her bed for years now.

I hated her, and everything about her, and had since the day she saw me looking at Tate with longing in my eyes.

“Oh, shit.”

I knew then that Krisney had seen her.

She wasn’t my best friend for nothing.

That day all those years ago, I knew that we’d be friends forever.

But I wouldn’t allow my mind to go down that dark path. I had a nearly full martini in front of me, and I was not going to let that bitch break me like she did when I was younger.

Today was for celebrating. Today was the day that I would not let Ariya Diebold hurt me.

***

Tate

“What’s that look for?” I asked Ariya.

Ariya grimaced and looked away from where she’d been staring.

I chanced a look, and saw Hennessy, and her best friend Krisney, leaning toward each other again.

They were whispering something, making it to where I couldn’t hear any of their conversation, and my dick instantly hardened.

I wasn’t one to want to do a threesome, though I had indulged in a few over my lifetime. They weren’t my thing then, and weren’t my thing now.

But looking at the two beautiful women, light and dark in coloring, inches from each other’s mouths, had done nothing for the semi-hard on that I had for the woman.

It’d been that way since I’d seen her that morning for our scheduled appointment.

I really needed to get laid, which was where Ariya came in.

Ariya’s and my relationship was a tough one. Neither one of us loved the other, at least not anymore. We’d both done some things that the other couldn’t forgive, and over time, we’d continue to do those things until those feelings weren’t enough anymore.

But we still had the occasional fuck—at least until I’d gone to prison.

She’d gone on with her life, but the day I’d gotten home, she’d made it known that she’d be willing to take up our old relationship where we’d left off—as fuck buddies.

Though, at the time, I had a feeling she wanted something more. We were both getting older, both of us in our mid-thirties. She wanted something more with her life, but she wasn’t the woman I’d ever be willing to do that with.

I hadn’t been interested in her advances then, and to be honest, still wasn’t. She was a good woman, and she deserved to find someone who wouldn’t ruin her life like I would.

But it was hard to find someone that wasn’t either A, disgusted with me for going to prison, or B, only wanting to be with me because she knew I was a bad boy.

I wanted someone nice. My dick was at the point where it no longer cared if they were nice, only if they had a warm, willing hole that I could stick it into.

Which was why I was toying with the possibility of taking Ariya home.

And very well might have done so had Hennessy not been there to let me know just how much I was craving her.

God, was I craving her.

However, I kept my eyes forward and on the woman that I’d semi-invited when I’d been at the grocery store earlier.

“Gosh, can you believe we’re getting so many restaurants?” Ariya asked, bringing my attention back to her.

And her tits.

“Seems like they’ve added at least ten since I’ve been gone,” I noted. “Only been to two of them so far, though.”

Ariya smiled her ‘come hither’ smile and leaned forward, giving me an unencumbered view of her breasts.

Breasts that were large, inviting, and nowhere near as arousing as the ones on a certain psychologist.

Ariya had a low cut, black t-shirt on that hugged every available inch of her skin. She was tall, slim, and had breasts that had always been just a little too big for her body. Her hair was long, blonde, and straight. Her cheekbones high, lips puffy, and eyes a deep sea green.

Everything I thought I was once attracted to.

Then I saw Hennessy.

Where Ariya was blonde, Hennessy was dark.

She had jet black hair that looked almost blue in certain lights. Her skin was porcelain white, so creamy and smooth that it looked like you could take a lick and taste heaven. Her hands were small, but her hips were curvy. Her breasts were on the smaller side, but would still be a perfect handful for any man.

Her lips were plump, yes, but they were also kissable, if that even made sense.

And Ariya, I realized, wasn’t going to work. Not when I’d be comparing every single thing she did or looked like to the woman at my left.

The woman who kept glancing at me, just like she used to do when she was a kid, and I was a man.

Then, it’d always made me feel uncomfortable.

My father had been a shit dad, and an even shittier person in real life. When he was thirty-eight, he’d been busted for indecent exposure with a minor…and that’d been the day that I’d promised never to take up with a younger woman.

A younger woman exactly like Hennessy had always been to me.

Though the age difference didn’t seem like it was a lot now, it was back then. Back when she was a starry eyed young girl, and I was a man.

Back when it was still fresh in my mind that my father had tried to have sex with a girl that was over half his age younger. Back when everyone compared me to him.

“You okay?”

I looked up to see Ariya frowning at me.

“Just fine,” I said, sitting back. “You ready to order?”

Ariya lifted her lip. “They don’t have anything here that I can eat. I’m on a Vegan diet until I can lose this last five pounds I gained while I was sick last month.”

I grunted something under my breath. “Then why did you agree to come here if you weren’t going to eat anything?”

Ariya smiled. “I’ve been trying to get you to go out with me since you’ve been back. I’d have gone to the movies, or even Hail House if you’d asked me.”

I snorted. She wouldn’t have gotten into Hail House. Not without my permission, anyway.

The boys at the door had a list that they’d never let in, and a lot of the exes of the club members—IE the boys that worked at Hail Auto Recovery and the club itself—were known DO NOT ALLOW IN. Meaning, they knew who they were, and if one of us didn’t give it the okay, then they weren’t allowed entrance.

It was easier to circumvent any possible fights before they happened, rather than to allow them in and hope for the best.

“Alrighty, then,” I said, holding up my hand and flagging the waitress down.

She came over in seconds, her eyes wary of me.

Everyone knew who I was.

It was hard to miss the guy that was six foot five, and tattooed from the tips of his fingers, to the base of his neck.

If they hadn’t seen me in person, they’d heard of me. And it only took one look to realize that the stories of what I looked like weren’t an exaggeration.

“W-what can I get you?” she asked.

That’s when I realized I knew the waitress. She was also a checker at the grocery store, and the woman whose car I’d repossessed not even a few hours before.

“I’ll have two of what that girl a couple tables over is having,” I pointed in Hennessy’s direction. “No drink, though, except for water.”

The waitress turned, nodded her head, and then moved away without asking if Ariya wanted anything, which I thought was secretly hilarious.

Ariya found it annoying.

See, that was the thing about Ariya…we were polar opposites.

Where I found joy in doing outside activities, she didn’t want to do anything if it didn’t involve air conditioning. For example, fishing. She hated to fish. Despised it, actually.

That was my favorite thing to do when I wasn’t working.

She also hated getting dirty, where the majority of my life was spent enjoying the finer things in life—such as taking a lifted truck through a mud puddle just because I fucking could.

Then there was her idea of kids. She wanted three, and all of them were to be put through private school, so they could get the best education known to man. And she wouldn’t settle for anything less.

I had no problem with three kids. I also had no problem sending them to private school if that was what they needed. What I had a problem with was paying for said private school.

I never had been, or would be, made of money.

I made money so I could spend it. I didn’t have a healthy savings account, and if I were being honest, I likely would have if I didn’t keep buying toys—such as a new motorcycle, or a new truck that I could fix up just to sell in three weeks.

Then there was my baby, my Chevelle. I bought parts for her on a daily basis, fine tuning, nit picking. Anything that I thought she needed, I’d give to her.

And Ariya thought that was stupid.

Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. But it was my money, and my decision to make. A woman would never dictate what I was and wasn’t allowed to spend my hard-earned money on.

Which was another reason why Ariya and I never got along.

Our views on life were completely different.

“That was rude,” Ariya said. Then her voice changed. “Is that little Hennessy Hanes over there?”

I didn’t have to look at the woman to know that Ariya had finally noticed her.

The two had never gotten along. Which was surprising since Ariya’s father had been a youth pastor for Hennessy’s father.

“Yes, it is,” I muttered without moving.

“God, what is she wearing?”

Jeans and a t-shirt.

“What’s wrong with what she’s wearing?” I questioned.

“Her pants are too tight. I can see a roll of fat over the top. Muffin top, anyone?”

I knew the ‘roll of fat’ she was speaking of, and it was more than a pinch, and that was only because she was sitting down, as well as leaning forward in her chair, as she spoke adamantly with her friend, Krisney.

“And God, hasn’t anyone told her that if she’s going to wear a white tank, that she should make sure it’s not completely see through?”

I gave Ariya a jaded look, then pointedly looked down at her top.

“I can see the top of your bra over your tank,” I told her. “What’s it matter if I can see her bra through her shirt?”

Ariya smiled, liking the fact that I’d noticed her bra, and bared her teeth in a predatory smile.

I would’ve found that enticing at one point in time. Now I wanted to lick the guacamole that’d fallen off of Hennessy’s chip onto the front of her white shirt.

I started to chuckle under my breath when she growled, and then pulled the shirt up to her mouth and licked the offending goo off.

The move exposed her belly, and her adorable little roll on the top of her pants had me wanting to bite that, too.

“Are you even listening to me?”

I turned to find Ariya staring at me, and then looking back over at where Hennessy now had her shirt back in place.

“You have the hots for her, don’t you?”

I shrugged. There was no use in denying it.

I’d always had a thing for her, even if it’d been borderline creepy when we were younger.

“That’s kind of sad, Tate,” Ariya curled her lip at me. “You know who her father is. You know what she did.”

I nearly rolled my eyes.

Ariya was speaking about when they were in high school, and Hennessy had accidentally bumped into Ariya, causing her to spill hot wax from two candles all over her hands, and lower stomach.

Why Ariya had the candles, I didn’t know. But it’d been before a service that I’d been forced to attend, so I’d been there when Ariya had cried and screamed that Hennessy had done it on purpose, when in reality it’d been an accident on both of their parts.

However, Hennessy’s father had taken her into the back room, and then proceeded to beat the shit out of her with a belt.

Not one single person had intervened, and by the time I’d realized what was going on, I’d only been in time to walk into the room to see tears of pain rolling down Hennessy’s face, and Hennessey’s father repositioning his belt back around his hips.

I’d hated him from that moment on.

The feeling had also been mutual.

She hadn’t screamed.

What I knew then, as well as now, showed how strong she actually was.

I sat back as the server brought my food, and winked at her when she didn’t so much as stutter when she spoke with me about the kitchen staff taking too long.

And as I tasted my first bite of the tacos, I realized why Hennessy had moaned each and every time she’d taken a bite.

It was fan-fucking-tastic.