Page 3 of One Pucking Life

She fumbles with her seat belt and practically launches herself into the back seat to grab her bags. “I am so sorry. I can’t believe I did that.”

“So… should I be calling the cops? Or…?” I smirk.

She shoots me an unamused look. Arms full of bags, she jumps down from the Bronco.

I release an exaggerated sigh. “I mean, I know men like me are the worst, but maybe I won’t press charges… this time.”

She shakes her head and pushes past me. “I gotta go.”

“That’s it?” I call after her, throwing my arms out. “You insult me, try to steal my car, and all you’ve got isI gotta go?”

“I apologized,” she shouts over her shoulder as she gets into her own Bronco.

“Yeah, well, I don’t think you really meant it. I didn’t feel an ounce of remorse in your voice!” I yell across the parking lot.

With a shriek of tires, she backs out of the spot. As she drives past us, she calls, “Well, I guess you’ll never know.”

I watch her until she’s out of sight. “That was one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Jaden scoffs. “Beautifully unhinged.”

We start walking toward the store.

“That kind of added to her allure, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t.” He laughs, the sound music to my ears. “That one would be nothing but trouble.”

“But for like… one night? I bet it’d be hot. Likerealhot.”

Jaden shakes his head, wearing an amused grin. “Let it go, man. Trust me.”

CHAPTER

TWO

DELANEY

If I actually cared what those two douchecanoes thought of me, I might be embarrassed. Luckily, I don’t. Besides, it wasn’t all that embarrassing. What are the odds that two people with the same year, make, model, and color of car would park in the same grocery store lot, two rows from each other, with the tops down?

Anyone would’ve done the same thing. Though maybe not with as much authority.

Whatever. Chances are, they’re assholes. As most men are. I don’t hate all men, just the vast majority—but they only have themselves to blame.

Growing up with an unfaithful, dismissive, and emotionally neglectful father may have skewed my opinion. I could never understand why my mother put up with him. Every man I’ve known has been awful—from my high school boyfriends to my college ones. Cheaters, liars, gaslighters, narcissists—the lot of them. Most days, I wish I could be a lesbian, but unfortunately, I’m only attracted to men.

There was a time in college, after a particularly bad breakup, when I walked in on my boyfriend, Derek, railing some girl overhis kitchen counter, and I tried switching sides. I mean, I don’t know if I have an invisible sign on my forehead that only men can read, flashing “Please cheat on me” in bright neon lights, but that’s how most of my relationships end.

So, after Derek, I decided to change my fate. I got really drunk and went to a party. I figured if I could just pop my girl-on-girl cherry, it’d be smooth sailing from there. I got as far as a kiss during a drunken game of spin the bottle. I couldn’t do it. Her lips were too soft. I like it rough. That’s the extent of my exploration.

As much as I despise men, I crave them. It’s a problem.

In fact, I wouldn’t mind a romp in the sack with that dark-haired, blue-eyed car twin of mine. I bet he likes it rough, too.

Despite the fact that he almost certainly falls into the asshole category, with that sexy-as-hell smirk, his mouth curling into a smile like he’s God’s gift to women—arrogance practically oozing off him—I can’t deny one thing: he’s probably damn good in bed. He exudes that kind of confidence, too.

I’m sure he would’ve been up for a one-night stand, but I’m already cutting it close. There’s no time to stay and chat. The Newmeisters need to leave for the wedding in an hour, and I stopped at the store to replenish the fridge and stock up on snacks—that’s my job as their nanny. Their boys can eat, all four of them, ranging from three to nine. And, while I have an unfavorable bias toward men, I adore those boys. They are four of the sweetest souls I’ve met. Plus, I hope that, as the person who spends the most time with them, I can teach them to respect women.

I sort of stumbled into this career—it was never part of the plan. I got my business degree in college, but I wouldn’t change a thing. I love my job. One babysitting gig led to the next until I was introduced to the right people willing to pay a desirable salary. I get to love on little humans and play all daywhile making excellent money. I work for a CEO of a very big corporation, so he can afford to pay premium wages. Despite birthing four children, his wife doesn’t seem to enjoy spending time with them and is always absent. Where to? I’m not sure. I’d guess the spa, gym, or out with friends, but she doesn’t like me much and doesn’t share her whereabouts with me.

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