Page 42 of Impending Consent

"I don’t know, basic. A couple of power tools and a workbench. I’ve only ever seen two garages and that’s my father’s and Gray’s. This is professional."

"Gray is an ex-NFL player who owns a bar and grill. Your father is an attorney. This is my profession."

"Point made. You built all this.”

"Most of it." I moved toward the table, checking that the glue had set properly overnight. "The business grew, so the shop did too."

Sailor moved closer and examined the table. "What kind of wood is this? It’s pretty."

"Black walnut. The client wanted something dark." I ran my hand over the surface. "It's for a family that just built their dream home. They have six kids, so it needed to be sturdy but beautiful."

"Six kids, shit. That's a lot of kids."

"Some people like a full house. Is it the amount that has your face twisted or just kids in general?"

She tensed slightly. "That's a loaded question for day two of cohabitation, don't you think?"

"Just conversation, Sail." I picked up a piece of sandpaper, focusing on smoothing a rough edge. "No pressure."

She watched me work for a moment before answering. "I haven’t completely ruled it out but my career comes first. Children don't exactly fit neatly into sixty-hour work weeks and high-profile cases."

"Your sister makes it work."

"Skylar's different. She's always been better at the whole work-life balance thing."

I decided not to push further. Instead, I handed her a piece of fine-grit sandpaper. "Want to try?"

"You're letting me touch your precious creation?"

"You're my wife. What's mine is yours, remember?" I guided her hand to a section of the tabletop. "Like this, with the grain."

Her movements were tentative at first but the more she got a feel for the rhythm, the more confident she got. I watched her work with a concentration that mirrored how she approached everything else in life. Fully committed.

"It's oddly satisfying," she said, frowning at the motion after a few minutes.

"That's why I love it.” I was about to get a different tool but my cell vibrated with a call.

Jairo's name flashed on the screen and I hesitated for a minute, considering that Sailor was here, but said fuck it and answered.

"Just checking on you, fam. How's married life treating you?"

I glanced at my Sail, who had paused her sanding, not so discreetly trying to listen but I had intentionally answered on speaker for that same reason. "It's an adjustment."

"Ah shit, she’s got you caught up.” I smirked and he kept going. “I'm in your neighborhood for a client meeting. I’m gonna pull up to properly meet the woman who outmatched your ass. She was pretty lit last time I met her."

The night of our wedding via video chat when Sailor was drunk off her ass. I glanced at my wife whose eyebrows shot up and I could practically see the wheels turning in her head.

"Today's not great?—"

I probably needed to prep Sail for an interaction with Jairo.

"I'm already on your street. Ten minutes, tops. I'm bringing lunch as a peace offering."

Before I could object, he hung up. I sighed, knowing this was about to be a fucking disaster.

"Your friend's coming over.”

"Apparently."

---