Page 53 of Unbreakable
“Yeah, I give advice because I have to work ten times harder to get people to stick around,” Colton shot back, throwing out a hand. “You guys think once you have wives, you’ve got it in the bag. You’ve got todateyour wife.”
“Tell us more, oh wise one,” Korowski cut in. Colton flipped him the middle finger.
“No, really. I think he’s right. I stopped romancing J a long time ago. I’ve just been going through the motions,” I sighed. “So you’re saying dinner and all these dates too?”
“Figure out what makes her feel good and give that to her,” Colton said. “Don’t make it harder than it is.”
“Probably oral. They all like oral,” Leroy said.
“Or a citrus slaw—” Royce cut in.
“No citrus slaw!” I barked. “And not just sex.” I rubbed the back of my neck.
“She’s your wife. You know her best, right?” Colton said. “You’ll work it out.”
“Look, I really gotta go get my daughter,” I said, reracking my weights and checking the weight room clock. A hand met my shoulder.
“So, hey.” Jack coughed into his fist and looked beyond me somewhere. “I know we weren’t best friends in L.A. or anything, but . . . if you need somebody. . .”
I smirked. Jack Leroy was the opposite of in touch with his emotions, or at least that’s how it seemed. He’d been slowly shifting since his divorce.
“Yeah. Thanks, man.”
“And maybe Mara and Jeanine could meet up or something, I don’t know. Or Mara could see if Jeanine’s okay. I don’t know what women do,” he said.
“I think she’d like that.”
Jack nodded and sniffed before strutting off to the other side of the weight room. “‘Kay.”
“Daddy,the cart’s really full. Did you look at Mommy’s list?”
Bella pronounced “list” like “nist,” having trouble with L sounds. She made them either a “y” or a “n”. Yellow, for example, was “yeyyow.” I briefly closed my eyes and sucked in a breath.
And no, I did not have a “nist” for the Target trip. I was doing exactly what Jeanine would do on a Wednesday: pick Bella up,go to Target, then go home to make shape mac and cheese for lunch. “What list?”
“She puts a list for the store at her desk.”
“Fuck,” I whispered.
“Daddy, this isn’t the hockey rink,” Bella said with a devious look that looked exactly like her mom’s. And that phrase is exactly what Jeannie says when I cuss in front of the kids.
I sighed. “You’re right, Bells. It’s not. Do you remember what she gets?”
Bella got a little smirk. “I think sometimes she gets treats.”
I stifled a laugh. “Treats, huh?”
“And toys.”
This kid was good. I guess youngest siblings have to get creative, quick. “Hmmm. You’re sure Mommy does that?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure that’s not just what a little tootie stinker wants?” I tickled Bella’s tummy and she squealed, kicking her feet. Unfortunately, since she was sitting in the cart with her legs flailing, she was perfectly positioned to kick me right in the balls.
And she did, the toe of her cute little Mary Jane shoes slamming directly into my testicles.
Well, that backfired. A heartwarming moment with my daughter turned into me doubled over trying not to throw up in Target.
