Chapter Two #2
Morgan giggles. “Yes, I will wear my helmet. I always do. I’ll even get this butthead to wear his.”
Gordy smirks. “Keep her, Taryn. I like her.”
Taryn agrees, “Pretty fond of her myself. Will do.”
“Well, ain’t that fuckin’ cute?” I hum, after they head out.
“Sure is,” Gordy nods, pouring me another shot.
“Thought my boy was gonna turn out to be a fuckin’ hellion for a spell, but I guess something finally clicked, and now he’s got his head on straight.
I don’t envy you and your six-year-olds at all.
They’ll be teenagers before you know it.
Word from the wise, do what you can now to raise ‘em right.”
I nod, letting my eyes fall to the shot glass before tipping it back.
Lord, don’t I know they’re growing up on me all too quickly.
I’ve got an extroverted, spritely tomboy in Terra, and a quiet, shy princess with Tati.
Love them both to pieces and cannot help but feel that my time with them is all too little.
Sarah and I agreed to her getting primary custody.
It stung—still stings, really—that she doesn’t seem to have much faith in me to allow me to be more than just a part-time parent.
Every other weekend and a couple evenings, here and there, after school aren’t nearly enough.
Getting holidays feels like a battle I can’t win half the time.
We’re only two and a half years into this arrangement and I already can’t wait until they’re old enough to make up their own minds about whose home they’d rather stay at.
Sarah got our house, but we still live in the same town, for Christ’s sake. It’s not like the girls couldn’t stay over more often at my place and go to the same school. But Sarah decided the schedule would be more structured, I guess.
Structure. Hmmph. Fuck structure. What’s wrong with going with the flow now and again?
“S’got you looking like you just sniffed a fart over there?” Gordy asks me.
“How’d you ever get primary custody of Taryn, way back when?”
His brows pinch in confusion. “Went in front of a local judge,” he replies.
“Took one look at Trista, then at me, I think the conclusion was pretty obvious. I had some stability. A home, a business. Trista had—still has—a flavor of the week, rents on a month-to-month basis, and relies on sugar daddies just to keep the lights on.”
I snort. After all this time, he’s still wound up about her, which, in turn, both annoys me and fills me with excitement, since she’ll probably be back here tonight and I can piss him off more by throwing it in his face.
It’s the only way I know I can get to him, since he’s so closed off about everything else in his life.
He continues arguing his point, “Sarah has a stable home—”
“Which I still help pay for, along with my rent,” I butt in, feeling a little offended that my contributions don’t seem to matter.
Why does everything I do actually contribute go unnoticed?
Since our divorce, it’s like everyone has this preconceived notion that I was going to be a deadbeat parent.
I fucking hate living with that assumption hanging over me.
“She has a high-powered career…” he adds, trailing off and waiting for me to cut in again. But I don’t, because that’s true. She does have that going for her. She’s one of the areas leading real estate agents in the coastal region. “And she’s one of those PTC moms on top of that.”
“So, because I don’t join the parent-teacher committee, I’m chopped liver?”
“No.” Gordy shakes his head. “But she is involved. The only thing you’re involved with is maintaining your ass-to-barstool relationship. You’re gonna get a busted liver, if you keep coming by here every night you don’t have the girls. Go home. Do something for them, even if they aren’t there.”
“Sound business plan, Masterson. Turning away paying customers.”
“I haven’t refused you a drink all night,” he balks.
“You did. A half-dozen shots ago, to be precise,” I remind him.
“The deal was you give me your keys, and then I would serve you.”
“Still doesn’t solve my problem regarding how I’m going to get home tonight after last call, which was”—I look down at my phone—“roughly seven minutes ago.”
“Shit!” Gordy looks up and bellows, “Last call!”
I snort.
“Good catch. Last thing I need to do is lose our liquor license. We sure as hell can’t get by on clam strip baskets alone.”
“I hear the lobster rolls here aren’t too bad,” I snark.
He smirks. “Cuz Wagner catches me the freshest bugs to use in ‘em.”
“You dick,” I snicker. “That last tote came from my boat, not his.”
“Huh,” he hums. “Sure didn’t taste like Wee-Waters’ load to me.”
And before my buzzed brain can even filter the words before I’ve said them aloud, my rebuttal spills right out. “Trust me, you’d know if you had my load in your mouth. You’d like it. You’d like it a lot.”
And—oh, shit—did I just flirt with Gordy fuckin’ Masterson?
The lethal look he shoots me back sends a shiver down my spine.
Yep. I just said that… to a dude. Oh, but not just any dude—the one dude who I should never ever proposition to savor my load in his mouth: my brother’s formerly sworn enemy.
Stepped right in that one, didn’t I?
A pregnant silence falls between us before he finally speaks.
“I’ll give you a ride home tonight,” Gordy offers, taking me aback.
“But don’t think this will be a regular occurrence.
At some point, you’ve got to smarten the fuck up and stop spending every night here just to avoid wallowing in your shit.
Hell, you probably only go home to sleep and get some privacy while you spank it using the tears from your failed marriage as lube or something. ”
I rear back, affronted. “Pfft, I do not. Besides, Blackbeard prefers lotion when we have hand-to-man contact.”
Gordy groans, shaking his head. “Seriously starting to consider letting you walk home instead, if I weren’t afraid I’d have to come scrape your frozen corpse off the sidewalk somewhere.”
I chuckle. “Nah man, but seriously, I am going to try to do better. Not just because of what you just said either. Earlier today, I made a vow to myself that I’m going to turn things around so I get a better shot of seeing more of my girls.
I need to. It’s my patented Move Forward with Maturity plan.
Don’t try to steal that trademark from me either. ”
Gordy snorts. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Now, eat up while I close up.”