Page 6 of Blast from the Past

I love the smell of printer ink and coffee in the morning. My business is my pride and joy. The set way in which things are done, the structure of it all, keeps me grounded and sane while my entire life is falling apart around me. This is something I can control.

Unlike Charlotte, who still refuses to see me. Or the fact that I am going to be a single father in the next few days when she delivers the baby. I know she was telling the truth about the baby. I remember thinking it was all a dream, Mercy beneath me, letting me have her like I have always wanted. But it wasn’t. Instead, it was a drunken mistake at a Halloween party with a girl who was wearing a black wig and nothing else remotely resembling the woman I have craved for years.

And it’s not like things at the underground fight scene are any easier. Zane is driving me nuts, but he is the reigning champion and stays that way by fucking with people. I’m not just some idiot that will fall for his bullshit. I’m coming for his title, and he can do and say whatever he wants, I’m not leaving until I get what I want.

One would think because of the violence I so easily dole out in the octagon, I wouldn’t enjoy this, but I do. I like working with people and helping them find that perfect house to call home. Being part of their story holds a special place in my heart and in a small town like this, helping someone buy their dream home is a big deal.

“Morning,” my best friend Kalum says as he drops a Styrofoam cup filled with coffee on my desk.

“You’re looking worse for wear,” I comment after a glance.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I haven’t slept intwo days. My new neighbor has a baby that simply will not stop crying.” He runs his hand over his face in exasperation.

“Maybe you should head back home and get some sleep?”

“I wish…” He sighs before taking a swig of his coffee. “But I need to show the Vincents a few of our listings today and they have already canceled on me twice. I really don’t want this commission slipping through my fingers.”

I nod my head as I continue to finish up the few admin items I left over from last night. I know better than to push the subject. Kalum is one of the most hardworking people I have ever met. Short of firing him, I know he won’t go home before seeing his clients for the day.

“What do you have scheduled for today?” he asks, leaning over to check the desktop calendar in front of me.

“Not much. I have a client coming in to look at the old garage,” I say. “It would be great if someone fixed that up and got it running again.”

Kalum laughs as he pats my back before moving over to his own office. Once the last of my admin and filing is done, I take a sip of my coffee and scroll through my social media, waiting for the time to pass and my client to arrive.

“I heard you were back,” Kalum’s voice finally filters into my brain.

I quickly stand and move around my desk, my subconscious already aware of who he is speaking to without having to ask.

“Can no one keep a secret in this damn town?” Her laughter hits me.

Standing in the doorway, I watch my best friend hug her tightly to his chest, and jealousy pummels me. Why couldn’t that have been us? Why couldn’t our first interaction have been a moment of happiness? No. Instead, it has been an uphill battle all the way.

“What brings you in here today? Need to rent an apartment?” Kalum asks as I return to my desk.

“No, thanks. I still have the house. I never could get it over my heart to sell it,” she replies and my best friend chuckles. The pen in my hand creaks at the force of my grip at easy banter between them, when all we ever do is fucking fight. “Actually,” she continues, “I’m here to see Shane.”

My friend chuckles, again, but doesn’t say a word. Fucker. Seems all he ever does is laugh at other people’s misery. He knows how I feel about Mercy and probably thinks it’s funny that we can’t seem to be civil, let alone get along.

Her heels click on the tiles as she makes her way to me. My entire body is rigid, waiting for her to speak when she walks through the door and into my office. For long moments Mercy remains silent, and I bask in her nearness, enjoying the scent of her subtle perfume. I know this peaceful moment won’t last long so I try to enjoy it.

“So, are you going to show me?” she asks lowly as she leans over my back and looks at the screen of my laptop.

“Show you what?” I ask in reply, not lifting my gaze to meet her but staring at my laptop.

“The garage, jackass.”

Shock courses through me. “Why would you want to look at the garage?”

“Didn’t Marco call you? I gave him the listed number.”

“Mr. Salazar. Yes, he called.” A strange sense of foreboding swells within me. I’m not sure I want to hear her next words.

“Okay. So, I am here to scout the place before we make any final decisions. Marco should be down in a week or so to finalize the paperwork if I am happy with the place.”

I stare at her but remain silent. She has a fucking man in her life and yet walks around in nothing but a damn t-shirt. I feeldirty all over again remembering how I fantasized about her in the shower this morning, working my hand over my hard cock until I exploded against the white tile wall.

Of course, Mercy would have a man in her life. She’s fucking gorgeous. Slowly, I breathe through the jealousy before standing and grabbing the keys to the location as well as my car.

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