Page 14 of The Problem with Fire
“If you would just go out and start getting laid, instead of still being hung up on me, maybe Leta wouldn’t resent me so much for dating other women,” he ranted, making me want to stab him in the face. “But because you insist on playing the pathetic martyr, Leta feels sorry for you and is punishing me for it.”
He took a step closer to me. “It needs to fucking stop.”
I was not going to let Thomas intimidate me. And, yeah, this conversation should probably not be had on my front porch but fuck him.
Fuck. Him.
I stepped up, forcing him to have to take a couple of steps back. “Look, I don’t know where you got the idea that I’m still pining over you, but let me assure you, Thomas, I am not,” I snapped. “I haven’t cried over you since well before the divorce papers had even been signed. I am not living in the past. And I sure as hell am not living there overyou.”
“Yeah? Then when was the last time you went on a date?” he challenged.
“You righteous bastard,” I spewed. Yeah, calling him names was probably not the way to go, but how dare he. Seriously? How. Fucking. Dare. He. “I spent that first year, after our divorce, getting my life in order with a new job, new finances, a new home, and helping Leta cope. The second year, after our divorce, I spent that concentrating on my career andstillhelping Leta cope with her new normal.” I could seriously feel my blood pressure spiking. “And as for this past year, I’ve been spending it being happy, you jackass. Getting laid on the regular might be what defines your new life, but mine is centered more around my daughter, my job, my friends, and what makesmehappy.”
“Well, obviously that’s not good enough since Leta is still unhappy,” he fired back.
“Leta’s unhappy withyou,Thomas.You,”I corrected. “You broke up her family, and contrary to your earlier beliefs, she’s not getting over it like you had hoped she would.” I shook my head. “Your mistakes with your daughter are not my responsibility to clean up.” I wasn’t going to do this with him. “Just leave, Thomas,” I said. “Figure out a way to fix things with Leta without blaming me for your problems.”
“You are to blame, Monroe,” he spat unreasonably.
“You know what-”
“Is there a problem here?” Both our heads turned, and I wanted the ground to swallow me up when I saw Sayer Hayes, the man I’ve been trying to avoid for days, standing in my driveway. I’d been so caught up in my fight with Thomas, I hadn’t even noticed him walking up.
“Nothing that I would consider your business,” Thomas snapped. “This is a private conversation.”
Sayer cocked his head and narrowed those sexy blue eyes of his. “See, normally, I’d agree,” he replied. “But I’d say you forfeited on privacy the second you decided to have this conversation on the porch and not inside the house.”
Thomas turned his entire body to face him. “That still doesn’t make this any of your business,” he pointed out. “It simply makes it entertainment.”
And then Sayer Hayes did something I’ll probably slit my wrists over later.
He smirked, walked through the grass and onto the walkway, pushed past Thomas, and then came to stand next to me on my porch. And my heart almost escaped out of my chest when he said, “That’s where you’re wrong, Ex-husband. Anything that has to do with Monroeismy business.”
Thomas was quick to sneer, but then his eyes rounded a bit when realization dawned. “Excuse me?” he hissed.
Right?!
I stood there in utter disbelief as Sayer Hayes lied through his teeth at my ex-husband. “Monroe’s mine,” he announced like his pants weren’t going to catch on fire for lying. And he was a firefighter, for Christ’s sake. “So, I’d say a man thinking he can yell at herismy business.”
“She’s what?”Thomas exclaimed.
“She’s mine,” Sayer repeated. Then he looked down at me and smiled. “Right, baby?”
What. In. The. Hell?
Chapter 8
Sayer~
Iknew she couldn’t hide from me forever. Though, she had given it great effort.
This past week, when it was obvious that she was avoiding me, I had hoped it was because she was embarrassed and not upset. Embarrassment I could work with. We could wave it away with an awkward laugh and forget about it. Being upset was an entirely different matter.
After Monroe had left the station, forty minutes later, another building inspector had shown up. Kevin was his name, and the inspection of the firehouse had gone off without a hitch.
Well.
Almost hitchless.
