Page 21 of Painting Her Fate

Let’s get back to the lighter shit, shall we?

Don’t get me wrong, it’s great having Ford living with me, but now, all I can think about is how that man traded pills for pussy. Fucking is this man’s forte. He’s going to screw up one of these times and find out how much karma can bite- she’s a mean bitch too. He better not call and ask me to bail his ass out- not gonna happen.

Yet, begrudgingly, I would do it, after I made him sit there for a bit first. I’d also call hisMadreto have her chew his ass out for beingmuchoestupido (very stupid)-only said in her equivalent verbiage.

“What has you in such a good mood?” I stretch my hands behind my head and lean back in my office chair, careful to not pester my shoulder.

His Southern baritone is full of sly intentions, “My girl, well, one of ‘em is in town for the weekend. I spent some time with her after my shift last night.” He grins big, “Probably again tonight too before she heads back home, -if you know what I’m gettin’ at, Corporal.”

I’m too out of it to think of a rhetorical response. With Ford there is no, ‘nudge, nudge, wink, wink,’ or ‘leave the rest unspoken’. Not with my Gunner. Like most Marines, we speak our dirtiest minds to anyone- except our higher-ranking officers- unless they hear it and join in the conversation, then it’s a fucking free for all.

Having more than my fair share of this- years of hearing about his exploits- I did something I thought I’d never have to do. I put Ford in his place. I pulled the Corporal card and told him to cut the shit. Found out you’ve gotta use that ‘don’t fuck with me’ tone for him to get it. *sigh* That man is a hardcore womanizer and there will never be any stop to it. I worry he’s never going to settle down again after what his wife put him through.

Let’s be fair- it’s a personal problem I have with this topic and nothing to do with Ford. Hearing him go on about his ever-so-easy, fun-loving sexcapades boils down to me going without sex for two years.

There. I admitted it- fucking judge me. I’m judged about it all the time from friends and family…

Ford would go on-‘How ‘bout you get laid so you can stop being such a fuckin’ d-hole.’

Or my favorite from my sister Emma-‘As your sister, I want to help you- here are six of my single friends’ numbers. For my sanity and everyone else, call them- NOW!’

Needless to say, my family doesn’t do subtle very well.

I shift in my chair, hoping to convey my disinterest at his favorite

subject, “Is this one Jenn, or Victoria?”

His dumbfounded expression says I should know who his conquests

are at all times. Yeah, I’ll get right on that.

His sigh says it all, “it’s Jenn. Victoria was last week. C’mon Boss, keep up. Sheesh, and you say you’re my brother,” Ford straightens, the move causing the wooden frame to groan again. “Then again, I haven’t been home too much this week to catch you up, you’re forgiven.”

“Sorry if I don’t pay too close attention in your sex life, Ford.” Or my own sex life for that matter.

Ford slaps his knee then stands and points a finger, a devious grin and a terrible thought ready to explode from his mouth. Here we go. “I know what you need!”

“Whatever it is, no.” I bite back, already annoyed.

Ford shakes his head, grabs the cigarette behind his ear, gesturing with it, “now, now, hear me out.” He leans in close to embark on his secret, “You need yourself a woman, or better yet, two of ‘em. Tap those fine asses now and again, maybe then you’d quit being such acretino (prick).”

“Fuck off, Ford.”

“I’m just sayin’-” He instigates but I’m quick on the draw with a death glare.

“You’ve been talking to Gavin, haven’t you?” He can’t deny it, they’ve been attached at the hip as of late. “The two of you better not be planning shit behind my back, it’s bad enough Emma tries playing matchmaker.

I’m over that bullshit. I do-not-need-a-woman.” I slowly shift my arms back down as the pins-and-needles feeling starts in my fingers.

My younger brother Gavin helps out here in the kitchen when I have call-ins, and from the sounds of things, he and Ford have been working together to gear up for the busy summer season; the ‘gettinglaid’summer season. They’re acting like horny teenagers, and I’ll admit, it was fun in high school to plan this type of fun, but I am almost twenty-eight and a business owner, time for everyone to grow the fuck up.

Ford starts his theatrical play by clutching his chest, “I’m hurt you’d accuse me of that,” a sly grin slithering through his mock pain.

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I know you Ford. I also know my brother. You better not be hooking me up. There will be consequences.” I slap a fist against the palm of my hand and rub them together in a bogus beat-down gesture, one that holds no true hostility. My shoulder protests the movement, and my expression says it all.

“Ha! As if you could.” Ford chuckles then catches my reaction, his smirk fades as he shifts his posture. In a flash the mood changes in the confined space as he sobers, “Be real with me, how’s the pain today Corporal?”

Pure fucking pity is all I sense. His concern pisses me off and he knows it. He’d be yelling at me if I was to ask him the same damn question.

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