Page 19 of Baring it All (Men in Charge)

“Barbie, I’ve got it covered. I’m pulling into a parking spot now. We all know she’s not gonna say dick when I’m around.”

“That’s just the tip of it, Griff. Mel and Zach are back in town. I imagine it’s going to get worse before it gets better.” Christ on a motherfucking cracker. It’s Monday, and everything is falling to shit.

“Don’t worry about Melissa. I’ll straighten her spoiled ass up, too,” Barbie hollers again. I’ve got to hand it to her. When Barbie brings you into the fold, it’s for good. She’ll fight fire with fire until the bitter end.

“Shit, Mel won’t survive Barbie, you know that, right?” I tell Jack.

“That’s what I’m afraid of. Melissa has a lot coming to her, and I’m not wading in this shit.” Better Jack than me. Mel is a grown-ass woman. She knows better, and he can’t fix this for her.

“Gotta go. My woman is being ambushed. Keep Barbie at the bar, tell her I’ll be back tomorrow. And why don’t you quit holding your dick in your hand? It’s time for you to go after what you want.” I shift the gear intoPark, slamming it into place with my good shoulder.

“Keep me posted, and I’m trying. If you ever tried to tame a wild horse, you’d understand that Barbie is making me work for it.” I chuckle at the analogy. He’s not wrong. She’s her own person, been alone for many years, is a hardass with a soft side. It’s getting to the middle that’ll take Jack some time.

“Will do. Good luck.” I hit the end button without saying goodbye again. It’s Jack; he’ll get over it. And I’m sure I’ll get another call from him later on. I’ve been driving for hours, my shoulder is in a sling, and I could sleep for a damn week. I grab my phone and wallet from the center console, managing to put my leather bifold in my back pocket. My keys and phone can stay in my hand. That way, if I have something to keep me busy, I won’t get twitchy and do something I’ll regret.

I’m a block away on foot from the salon. Most of the parking spots were full. Tourist season makes it impossible to get closer, which is alright. Maybe I’ll cool off. I can only imagine what Laura is spewing. Her mouth was awful quick to say that Stormy and I were having an affair. We gave her a fuck lot to talk about, but it wouldn’t have hurt her to ask a question or two. I don’t know, maybe ask her son the reason why his bride was running for the door without a backward glance. Laura’s the reason Stormy didn’t get out of the house for nearly a week, and when she did, well, I was the lucky one she graced with her presence. I knew I had a good thing going with her from the moment she was in my truck and she was clutching the bottles of tequila. Most women would go after champagne. That’s not Stormy, though; she likes her alcohol with a little bite.

I nod my head to a few people I see as I walk the sidewalk. The coffee shop is busy; a line is out the door for people to get their fix of caffeine. Damn good thing I’ll be heading home after I make sure Stormy is okay. The need for coffee of my own is strong, and since I take mine black with one sugar, I don’t see the point in paying four dollars for one. A few more paces, and I’m opening the door to Kitty’s place. The noise from the blow dryers and chatters stops right away. I don’t see Stormy anywhere. What I do see is Laura on the phone. Her face pales, and it seems like I’ve come to save my woman at the right time. The door closes behind me. The air conditioning hums in the quiet. What I’m waiting on is for Stormy to appear.

“Hey, Griffin,” Kitty greets me, head tilting to the back of the shop. I’m just about to head in that direction when my woman appears. She stops in her tracks, barely holding on to what I’m sure is some kind of color. Her hair is down, raven locks cascading in soft waves. A light dusting of makeup. Stormy steals the air from my lungs with one damn look. It doesn’t matter if she’s wearing my clothes, a bathing suit, or what she has on now—a black form-fitting top, loose jeans with her lower abdomen showing, and sandals on her feet.

“Griff, my God, what happened?” I’m going to answer that, but first, I’m going to make a woman run out of the salon with her tail between her legs. If I don’t do it, Barbie will, and Laura will be more than scared. She’ll hightail it to the nearest cop to make a false report. Then Barbie would make good on her promise, bat in tow like she’s Harley Quinn fromSuicide Squad.

23

STORMY

Oh my God, oh my freaking God. I’m barely holding on by a thread. The two cups of coffee I had are threatening to come up with the emotions swirling through my body. Griff is standing in front of me, which isn’t out of the ordinary even though he wasn’t supposed to be back this early. It’s the dark circles beneath his eyes, the scruff he usually keeps trimmed that’s now untamed, and the fucking sling holding his arm up. I should have known something was up. My radar should have set me off.

He keeps his eyes on me for a moment, allowing me to soak in his presence. If only he’d move his feet, or I’d move mine. The two of us don’t stand still. My tears cloud my view, and I blink them away so they don’t roll down my cheeks. Griff must be over this self-imposed stand-off, because he makes it one step before he changes direction.

“No, no, no,” I mumble so low it’s barely a whisper, worry hitting me for a different reason now. He walks closer to Laura. She’s in her own world. Oblivious to the hulking man walking up to her.

“Oh, this is going to be good, honey. It’s been a long time in the making.” Kitty comes up beside me, takes the color out of my hand, and plops it on a tray. A good thing, too, with the way I’m trembling on the inside.

“I don’t want her to retaliate on Griff, his bar, his name, all because of me,” I admit. The Busby’s have enough money and clout to make people’s life a living hell, a feeling I know all too well.

“A man like Griffin Hawkins knows exactly how to handle a woman of that caliber. You just stay here with me, let him do the Lord’s work.” Her hand catches mine, squeezing it once. Cassidy opens the door, hitting the doorstopper with her foot to prop the glass door open. We’ve found we get more tourists coming and going on the footpath, and they love the products Kitty keeps stocked as well as a few accessories. Today, I wish she had forgotten that little task. It’s Monday and exceptionally busy. Everyone is getting their last bit of summer fun out of the way before school is back in session and our town settles in for fall.

“You got a problem with Stormy and me?” I hear Griff ask. My eyes close, and I take a deep breath. Of course, she has a problem. The woman can’t open her eyes and see two feet in front of her.

“I certainly do. You and that harlot left the wedding. She disgraced my son, and you, well, you should know better. A businessman such as yourself, you’ve got an image to uphold.” I have to put my hand to my mouth, trying to absorb the giggle taking root. Jesus, an image to uphold. Has she met Griff? He doesn’t give two shits what others think about him. Griff exudes confidence. The bar is successful, and he’s a medic in his off-time. Sure, he gets paid for it, but it’s not like he needs that job.

“That the reason you’re running your trap far and wide because you’re grown son can’t handle being an adult?” Laura huffs out a breath of air and gets up from her seat. Griff takes a step back, his arm tucking under the sling. He knows she’s not done; it’s written all over her face.

“Well, I’ll be damned if I let someone drag our last name through the mud and her not come out unscathed.” The sad truth of the matter is she truly believes that.

“Woman, you have your head so far up your own ass, you can’t see fucking daylight. Did you even ask anyone else their side of the story? Zach or Stormy, for example?” She doesn’t like him subjecting her to critical thinking.

“Why would I do that? I saw it for myself,” Laura states, vehemently.

“Then I’d suggest you talk to your son. You know, the one who went on a honeymoon with Mel, my niece.” Griff doesn’t mince words. His voice carries through the quiet salon. Everyone can hear him, and I’m sure so can the people who have congregated around the open door. Shit, some of them even stepped inside. I should be embarrassed with the way more of my dirty laundry is being aired out, except I’m not. Griff is doing what I couldn’t and wouldn’t. The couldn’t part is because people chose who to believe, and as much as it pains me to admit it, Laura is right. How we left was pretty damning. Me moving in with him makes it look worse. I wouldn’t for simplicity reasons. No one needs to know what happens in my personal life that much in order to make it common knowledge.

“That still doesn’t negate to the fact you’re a barbarian, dating someone fifteen years younger than you. Why, the scum beneath my shoes is better than you,” Laura spits while clutching her pearls. Swear to God, this cliché keeps getting worse and worse.

“Woman, you don’t get your ass gone and leave my woman alone, I’ll air it all, and I know your husband has a wandering eye and dick. It seems the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” She doesn’t like that, not at all. Also, I’d love to know where Griff found out his information because I was not aware of that little tidbit at all. It just goes to show you people truly can hide what they want. The dinners at Zach’s family’s house seemed normal. A little stuffy for my liking, but nothing out of the ordinary. Zach’s dad was always there and attentive, or so it seemed.

All of a sudden, Laura scurries out the door, head held down in shame. I almost feel sorry for her, almost, except for how she’s treated me, past, present, and what I’m sure will be the future. What I’m not prepared for is the round of applause in the salon. My eyes that were once on Griff survey the area. People I don’t even know are cheering, some are laughing, and I’m still standing in the same place I was when Griff walked in.

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