Page 2 of The Good Guy on My Porch

I just stared at him, flabbergasted. “Does she also take lovers? She sleeps with whoever she wants and that’s okay with you?”

He glanced over my shoulder, his gaze going distant, like I was no longer worth his attention. “Can we discuss this another time? I like to be home for breakfast with the kids before they leave for school.”

All my anger and shock faded. This man didn’t know me at all if he thought I’d ever speak to him again. “Get your stuff and get out. I don’t want to see or hear from you ever again.”

He rolled his eyes. “I thought you were mature enough to understand—”

“That not speaking to you thing starts now.” My throat felt tight and tears pricked my eyes. I would not cry in front of this man. “I’m going to take a shower and wash your filth from my skin, and then I’m going to wash my sheets and try to pretend I never met you.”

I spun and shut myself in the bathroom, but I still heard him mutter something about women and their hysterics. I took a moment to collect myself. I was an adult. I was a mature adult and he was a jerk who didn’t deserve my — Aw, screw it.

I swung the bathroom door open and marched into my bedroom ready to…Well, probably just yell some more, but he was already gone. I ran to the front porch, but he was nowhere in sight and his car was still parked on the street, blocked by a moving van.

“Mornin’ Dilly,” Sandra hollered from her porch next door. She was a few years older than me, a Catalpa Creek native, and a kind woman, even if she was nosy as hell. “What was up with the police at your place this morning?”

I gave her a sweet smile. “They weren’t here for me. I’ll let you know if I find out.”

She pursed her full lips, expression skeptical. A quick glance across the street made it apparent she wasn’t the only neighbor curious about the commotion at my place. I hurried back inside before anyone could ask any more questions.

I found Abram in my kitchen, still in boxers, putting coffee into my coffee maker like he had a right to anything in my house.

“What the hell are you still doing here?” I yelled.

He calmly kept making coffee, giving me a bland side eye. “My car is blocked. I’m going to make some coffee and then I’m going to find someone to move that truck.”

“No. Nope. No way. I want you out of my house right now.”

He frowned at me in disapproval and kept making coffee. Was I invisible? Had he suddenly gone deaf?

I wanted to punch him, wanted to throw something at him, but I was tiny and he was big and I knew how any sort of physical violence would end. I drummed my nails on the kitchen counter. “Abram, I’m only going to ask you one more time. Get out of my house or you are going to be sorry.”

He pushed the button on the coffee machine and turned to face me, one hip against my counter, a smirk on his face. “What are you going to do, Dilly Dally?”

Red coated my vision and I wished I had taken a self-defense class or ten. I had never wanted to hurt someone as much as I wanted to hurt that man.

His smirk increased as he walked over to me. “Tell me, why are you even out here, when you said you’d be in the shower?” He bopped me on the nose with one long, manicured finger. The fucker actually bopped me on the nose. “Clearly, you still want me. You’re at war with yourself, Dilly Dally. You never really wanted to the truth about me. Every woman wants the fantasy. That’s exactly what I gave you, along with more orgasms than you could count. You want to hate what you view as infidelity, but at the same time you ache for me with a primal lust that is so overwhelming it’s hard for you to fully comprehend.”

“Did you just call me stupid?”

He pursed his lips. “Is that what you heard? Dilly Dally, you misunderstand, as you are misunderstanding your own confused feelings right now. It’s not your fault, women are not natively imbued with the sort of logic that—”

I didn’t know what he was about to say next and I didn’t really care. I was enjoying the way his eyes rolled back in his head and his throat spasmed as his primal brain caught up to the fact that I’d just punched him in the balls. I might be tiny, but I had a lot of anger backing up that punch. He grunted and dropped to the floor, clutching his crotch.

“Get out of my house or there’s more where that came from,” I said. Then, I ran to my room, grabbed my cell phone from my night stand and locked myself in the bathroom, my finger hovering over the call button after I’d dialed in 911, because I might be a woman with an illogical brain, but I was no idiot.

I stayed in the bathroom, finger on the proverbial trigger until I heard his shod feet stomping across my hardwood floors and the front door slamming as he left. I sighed and dropped to sit on the toilet lid, my head in my hands. I was furious at Abram, but I was almost angrier at myself. I’d been so excited to have met a man I actually liked who didn’t demand too much from me, that I hadn’t questioned his infrequent calls and his insistence on dining in or going out in the next town over. He might have an open relationship with his wife, but he wasn’t open about having other people know how he lived. There’d been warning signs and I’d chosen to ignore them, because for the first time in a very long time I hadn’t felt so damn lonely.

***

Rain drops fell intermittently from the gray sky like mother nature couldn’t decide whether to cry or spit. I felt for her.

I waved to Ronnie as he unlocked the door of the hardware store and smiled at Layla as she hurried past with her three kids in tow. Even on a soggy, dreary day, downtown Catalpa Creek was hopping. The store fronts were lit and warm, and the trees were blooming with flowers. Past the end of the street, the mountains rose majestically in the distance. I stopped for a moment and just soaked in the view. I pulled in a deep breath and let the beauty of nature and—

“Hey, get out of the way,” some guy growled at me as he shoved past, almost knocking me over in his hurry to get down the street. My momentary calm evaporated. Men. Gah!

I try not to be a judgy person, to be accepting of all lifestyles, but when kids are involved…I’d been a girl who’d had to grow up without a father and his loss had hurt me and broken my mother. I couldn’t imagine any man choosing to be absent. I sighed. Abram was having breakfast with his kids, he was there, maybe I was judging him too harshly…Nah, if he was choosing strange booty over his kids, he wasn’t making them a priority and that just made me sad. I was sad for myself and sad for Abram’s kids and sad for Abram on some level.

I straightened my shoulders, lifted my chin and marched into The Morning Brew. Starting today, I was going to grow up. No more getting lulled into complacency by a pretty face and prettier words. I was going to go into my next relationship with eyes wide open.

---