Page 62 of Bad Boy for Hire
“One of us has to remain calm.”
“You’re doing pretty good too.”
“It’s the lack of caffeine. I’m too tired to freak out.”
Lisa’s smile was understanding. “How are you feeling?”
“Eh, this morning I was nauseous. I hadn’t expected it so soon.” May chewed on the inside of her cheek before sharing the other thing that had been bothering her. “The night I went over to his house to tell him, he said he was worried I was going to dump him.”
“Dump him? Are you two together-together? I was under the impression he was cool with casual.”
“So was I.” And May was cool with it too. “It’s what I like most about him. No worry of being swept away like with Prescott. I’m not attached to his family, he’s not the source of my emotional stability. I can exist on my terms and he on his, and we’re good.” She sighed. “Or at least we were. A baby sort of throws a wrench into the sexy fling I had planned. To your point, who am I, and where is the version of me who was decisive and certain?”
“Give yourself a break, babe. You learned life-altering news less than a week ago. Allow some time to process. Xavier’s not wrong—you have time. I kinda understand why you had sex. What you were worried about happening has happened. Now you can boink all over the place and not worry.”
May laughed at Lisa’s choice of phrase. “Feeling good is better than feeling uncertain.”
“Sex over uncertainty.” Lisa tapped her paper cup carefully against May’s, and then they both drank to that.
Friday night, Xavier left Salty Dog for Ant’s place, relieved to be out of the bar. Cheyenne had come back from vacation only to put in her notice. She was working out her final week now. He was grateful she’d given notice, but he didn’t exactly love the idea of losing her. Tonight, when he’d made the schedule and saw how many holes there were in it, he decided that hiring her replacement was his top priority.
Dammit.
He’d begun working on the app for Jewell and had planned on focusing solely on that. Now that he’d been at Salty more often than not and was dealing with an employee shuffle, he realized how tired he was of management. Owning, yes. The day-to-day, no thanks.
He parked in Ant’s driveway and strolled into the workshop, six-pack of beer in hand. The shop was separate from the house, a massive space that Ant had transformed from a sawdust-strewn room with a beer fridge and a cluttered desk in the corner to a polished man cave. The wooden bar top and barstools had been custom-made by Ant himself, and the clunky, loud mini fridge had been replaced with a full-sized glass-doored cooling unit.
Ant was behind the bar uncapping a beer. “Hey, Xav.”
“Hey. I’m the first one here?”
“Second,” came a voice from the showroom.
To his right was the bulk of the showroom where Ant featured his latest pieces for sale. “Oh, hey, Griff. What are you shopping for?”
“New desk, but Ant said he’d do custom. Like the bar.” Griffin knocked on the bar top as he took a seat at the end. “He tell you he made this?”
“Yeah. Like you, he can do just about fucking anything.”
Ant smirked as he uncapped a beer and handed it to Griffin.
Xavier smoothed his hand along the bar top. “Our boy’s growing up. He has a proper man cave with clean floors, a temperature-controlled beer chiller, and his woodshop is organized. This is some married-man shit.”
“Not married yet.” Ant was a man in love and proud of it. His eyes were shadowed by the brim of his fedora, but damn if Xavier couldn’t see the twinkle there anyway. “But soon.”
“You asked.” Xavier nodded.
“I asked. She said yes. They lived happily ever after.” He tipped his own beer bottle to his lips.
“Congrats, man.” Xavier thought of his own news. He hadn’t shared it with his friends yet, but Lou and Elliott knew, so he assumed that Brady and Ant knew too.
Brady was the next to arrive, his own six-pack in hand. “I was going to go to the gym, but beer sounded better than leg day. Hey, guys.”
Xavier and Brady tapped the necks of their beers as Griffin filled Brady in about how Ant was going to build him a desk.
“I don’t want a desk, but I’d love a pair of Adirondack chairs for the dock,” Brady said. “What can’t you make?”
“You name it,” Ant said with a shrug. “Wedding arches, benches, dining room sets?—”
