"Mr. Meyers? Yes, this is Mitch Greenway from Greenway Auto Repair. We just finished the brakes on your car and you can pick it up any time." He held the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he used an old T-shirt to wipe the grease off his hands. Mr. Meyers said he would be there before closing, and then both men said goodbye and hung up. Well, that's one job done. He shoved the greasy T-shirt into his back pocket and stepped back out into the garage to work on a Toyota pickup that needed a new transmission. This one wouldn't be going home today.He loved working on vehicles. He found it calming, almost meditative. While working a socket wrench, he could allow his mind to focus on other things. Staring up at the underside of the small pickup, his real paycheck, his thoughts turned to Karla and how complicated her stubbornness made things. He let out a sigh as he put his hands on his hips and continued to stare upward, not really seeing anything. So much for working and thinking at th
Mitch left work in desperate need of a shower and still having four hours of work left on the transmission that would help him pay his rent that month. All day long, he fought the urge to reach out to Karla, asking her again to join him for dinner. It would only play into her way of thinking, make her feel like she had the upper hand in their relationship, if what they had could be called a relationship. She needed to come to him if what he hoped for was ever going to come to pass. She needed to realize not all relationships were the same. As he turned on the shower, allowing the water to heat up, Sandy's words echoed in his head again. Karla Harper doesn't do relationships. She does men. But why? What happened to her that caused her to be so frigid when it came to matters of the heart while being so hot between the sheets? That was what he wanted to discover, what drove him crazy not knowing. He stepped into the shower spray, the hot water pelting his flesh. Not for the first time h
God, he frustrated the hell out of her. Who did he think he was to make demands of her? That was not how it worked. She threw open her closet doors and stared at the dresses which hung there, trying to decide what to wear to a steak dinner she didn't want to attend. He'd probably order for her this time, all in the guise of being the perfect gentleman. It was a ploy, she knew. He was trying to prove he wasn't a player, that's all. Just like the other night when he made her practically beg for him to come into her apartment and fuck her.Karla unlocked the door to her condo, and then turned to see how Mitch played out the ending to their night. Once the meal was over, he ordered a cup of coffee and continued the conversation while he sipped it. Then, he paid the check and escorted her back to the car. She expected him to offer to take her back to his place, the garage, a dirt road, anywhere, but back to her condo. Yet, he didn't. He drove her straight home. He did insist on walking her
Friday nights at Sand Dune were loud, chaotic, and busy as hell, just the way Karla preferred it. It kept things interesting and moving right along to quitting time. It was also the best night for tips, so she always wore her lowest cut top and tightest blue jean shorts, the ones that revealed just a hint of her ass cheeks. Whether she leaned over the bar talking to someone or bent behind the counter for a glass, she always gave a tease of what there was a chance of later. The sad part, she thought, was that she had not allowed anyone to plunder her treasures, since Brad the other night, thanks to Mitch Greenway getting into her head, except for Mitch Greenway, that is. She acted like it mattered whether he would be upset or not and that was always a rocky path that never ended well for anyone, especially the men who fell in love with her. Relationships were for other people, not her. That was a lesson she learned as far back as high school.She laid in her bed staring at the ceiling.
Reed never saw her as girlfriend material, only as someone he could screw when his girlfriend had a "headache." It was the first lesson that taught Karla men were assholes and she was a commodity they merely wanted to trade. Reed passed it around she was an easy lay and soon boys wanted to take her out, but none wanted to go out with her. It didn't take her long to discover she could control that and turn the tables on the male population. With the promise of a hand job or blow job, she could coast through school, and she did. Sometimes with the older boys, sometimes the underclassmen, and other times even with teachers. She made sure she always looked amazing, her body tight and toned, tanned and exposed. Men eyed her, even if they were with their wives. Sex was a currency, Karla discovered, and she spent it freely, collecting whatever she desired.That's how it all started with Mitch Greenway. Aimee needed her car fixed and Karla hated paying full price. It was supposed to be a littl
Karla sprawled out on the blanket, the morning sun warming her body as the rays kissed her flesh, the sound of the breaking waves a soothing melody behind her, almost lulling her to sleep. That is, until the high-pitched screams of Abigail Asher mixed with the sound of the waves as she played with her father, Clint, in the Atlantic. Karla had to admit, she grew quite fond of the little girl over the past couple of weeks. While she couldn't see herself ever getting involved with someone who already had children, it seemed like the perfect thing for her sister. Aimee was always the one itching to start a family, whereas Karla only saw it as something to hold her back from enjoying life on her own terms. It wasn't that she didn't necessarily desire children of her own; she just didn't want the husband who usually came along with them. She knew the scene that would unfold. She'd get married, have a child, and then her husband and she would begin bickering about her behavior or his attempts
"Who's a pain in the ass?" Clint asked as he walked up toward them, water dripping from his bathing suit, which, from the look on Aimee's face, was sticking to all the parts she wanted to see. Abigail sat in the sand nearby, digging a hole to rival all other holes."Karla thinks Mitch is a pain in the ass because he isn't as pussy-whipped as all the other men in her life."Clint took a chair beside Aimee, scrubbing some of the water out of his hair with a towel. "I like Mitch. Seems like a standup guy.""You would," Karla said, turning her head—and her attention—in the opposite direction. "You men stick together.""Hey, I'm not a man," Aimee protested."No, but you're glued to one, which is just as bad," Karla said, still not looking at the two of them."You still haven't answered my question, though," Aimee said. "Are you going to go out with him again?"~ ~ ~ ~ ~"Well, is she?""Is she what?" Mitch stared at Sandy, who stared right back, arms across her chest as she watched him work
Karla wiped down the bar, preparing for the next wave of drunks to come spill their drinks all over it again. She loved the money the weekend crowd brought in, but hated putting up with the drunks. It was one of the reasons Paul hired Heath, the bouncer who worked the door five nights a week. His thick arms and broad chest were deterrent enough for anyone wanting to stir up trouble, but they were also a distraction, and not just for Karla. Several of the female patrons huddled around Heath every night, almost to the point of distracting him from his real reason for being there. Still, it didn't stop some jackass from trying to steal the attention of the infatuated women by getting himself drunk and attempting to show off for anyone desperate enough to watch. It would be funny if it wasn't so sad. It also didn't help her mood that her skin was just a little on the burnt side from being at the beach all morning with her sister and Aimee's ready-made family. She knew she shouldn't begrudg
They were the last ones to arrive at the park, the others already choosing a spot and Marvin Asher firing up the grill. Karla wore a skirt that actually covered everything it should and had her breasts tucked conservatively out of sight. Aimee was shocked but glad. Clint's parents would get to know all about her sister soon enough. Aimee didn't need the first meeting to be a shocker for them.Abby ran to the Ashers first, giving them each a hug and squealing when her grandfather picked her up and threatened to throw her in the air. Then, to Aimee's surprise and delight, the little girl ran to Aimee's mother and hugged her as well. She offered the others a quick hello and then darted for the playground, Clint's mother following just to keep a nervous eye on her. Paul and Mitch stood beside the picnic table, Karla clinging to Mitch's side, as Aimee's mother sat in front of them, all talking and laughing. Aimee stood still a moment, soaking in this perfect scene. They were one big happy f
Aimee stretched, her arms extending out to her side only to come up short as her hand hit another body. Rolling over, she gently ran a hand over Clint's face, a smile dancing across her own. The Saturday morning light peeked through his curtains, calling them to rise and shine, but Aimee ignored it, as she had tried to do every morning since Monday night. Every night she fell asleep beside him, and every morning she woke up wrapped around him, her arms exploring his naked chest. No matter how tired they were when they went to bed, the two of them decided, for Abby's sake, they'd make sure they wore pajamas before falling asleep. A young girl still had moments of nightmares, after all, and needed her Daddy in the middle of the night. Monday night everything changed. Bonnie was no longer his wife. Oh, he still had to stand before the judge next week and make it official, but for all intents and purposes, it was a done deal. Nothing stood in the way of their happiness now.She ran a fing
When the kiss broke, he grinned down at her. "Just tell me we can do some more photo shoots."She laughed again, harder, freer. "Clint Asher, I'll do whatever you want. All you have to do is name it." She kissed him again, this time softer, with less urgency, but just as much passion.When the kiss was over, she slid back into her seat, scooping up her wine glass as she did. "So tell me about today."He did, sharing with her how Bonnie wasn't planning on signing the papers in the beginning. First, he told her Bonnie's revelation of a need for family and why she returned. Then, he explained how he convinced her how signing the papers was the only way for the two of them to get on with their lives, that she could be the best mother to Abby she could be, but she would never again be his wife. He told Bonnie that she needed to respect Aimee and make the transition as smooth as possible. They were Abby's parents, but they would never be friends.When he finished, Aimee told him about Bonnie
The night dragged on, and Aimee could not shake her nervousness. Clint had asked her over to join them for dinner but still had not said anything about what he felt they needed to discuss. He hadn't even mentioned his meeting with Bonnie that afternoon, which made Aimee keep quiet about how the woman visited her. No need to bring up the subject if he was going to end it with her.Abby was a bundle of energy, bouncing on the couch and wanting to dominate the attention. After growing bored with that, she dragged Aimee to her room and played tea, while her father cooked dinner and music played from the front room. As Aimee played dolls with Abby, she wondered if the girl knew the extent of everything that was happening in the lives of the adults around her or if she was blissfully oblivious. For the little girl's sake, she hoped it was the latter."Dinner's ready," Clint called from the front room. Aimee had to admit he sounded happy since she arrived, not as if he was ready to send her o
A knock came at the door. Aimee glanced over her shoulder but didn't move to answer it. If it was Clint, she wanted to postpone the inevitable for as long as possible.Whoever it was knocked again. Karla stepped out of the hallway, glanced at Aimee, and then moved to answer the door. "You worry too much," Karla said over her shoulder.Aimee turned back to the ocean, the curling waves matching the churning in her stomach. She knew she was being dramatic, but she couldn't stop herself. She hated defeat."What the hell are you doing here?" Karla's voice snapped Aimee's attention around. Expecting to see Clint standing there, she was stunned when she noticed Bonnie, the woman ramrod straight, her neck stiff, and one white-knuckled hand gripping her purse strap close to her shoulder. Aimee could feel the confusion furrowing her brow, her eyes squinting, as if trying to make sure she saw what she actually saw. "Bonnie?""Again I ask, what are you doing here?" Karla stood in front of the oth
Something went wrong. While Aimee had no idea what that something was, she knew it had to be about Clint's divorce. Why else would he text her saying they needed to talk right after meeting with Bonnie? The waves barreled onto the shore, breaking upon the sand and rearranging the Atlantic Coast, just as Clint's text rearranged her security, sending her spinning in the riptide of the unknown. She stared at the white foam as the ocean sucked it back out into the deeper waters, reclaiming it as its own. Had Bonnie succeeded in the same thing with Clint? Had she won the fight and taken her husband back? Once again regaining her happy little family?She closed her eyes against the onslaught of scenarios that pummeled her mind, her head screaming against the intrusion. With everything she could muster, she tried to fight the battle within her, giving Clint the assurance he wanted that she believed him when he told her he would be here forever. Yet, it wasn't her experience. Men said whatev
Clint pulled into the local Starbucks, deciding it was the safest place to meet Bonnie to get her to sign the divorce papers. Hopefully, the opportunity for her to respond negatively would be greatly reduced by the public meeting. He had no doubt that meeting her in private would lead to her doing something detrimental to the proceeding. He just wanted to get her to sign the divorce papers and get the whole thing over with, so he could get on with the rest of his life, get on with his relationship with Aimee.He sighed. Hopefully, get Aimee to calm down and return to normal. It wasn't that all the adventures she came up with weren't hot as hell. They were, and he wouldn't mind doing them, but not if she only did them to compete with Bonnie. He wanted Aimee to be Aimee, the woman he fell in love with, the woman who sat on the couch with him and Abby and watched Disney movies, the woman who jumped into a flour fight in the kitchen, giggling and tossing the white powder everywhere. He did
Aimee stretched, her body screaming its protest at her, hating the fact that morning was already here, and she needed to rise and shine. Only one part of that would be possible until after coffee. She rolled over, her gaze drifting to the sliding glass doors at the east of her bedroom. The morning sun coaxed her, urging her to call into work and take the day off, to make a day of it at the beach, the sun's rays kissing her flesh. She grinned, scrunching down into her covers, her mind drifting to Clint's lips on hers, the passion in each one of his kisses, warming her insides like the sun would warm her outside. If she was going to call out of work, she wanted to spend the day in bed with Clint.Once they left his workshop, he went to pick up Abby and then met her at Charlie's for dinner. Abby was a chatty little girl, while she drew on her kid's menu, excited about being out with them. It was even pleasant to sit at a table, Clint's arm stretched across as he held her hand, Abby bounci
They spent the next hour moving things around in his workshop, setting up a photo shoot of the furniture he intended on selling, and making each piece look enticing. Aimee threw herself into the task at hand, examining the shadows cast by the lighting inside the workshop and making a small studio spot off to the side with nothing in the background, using some of his dark dropcloths as background drops. Clint helped her move things around, happy to be the manual labor to her vision for his photos.Outside, night started to fall, casting darker shadows on the ground as lamp posts popped on, offering only a slimmer of light to illuminate the world. Aimee finished taking her pictures: rocking chairs, tables, even a dresser Clint had crafted himself. They teased, laughing at each other when Aimee wasn't so focused on what she was doing. This was her passion, taking pictures, and she could get lost in the process for hours, inspecting angles and lighting, zooming in and out, carefully select