“But you can rest assured I’m good at what I do, the men working with me are. That’s what I got to give to you, and it isn’t thin. We’re all that good,” he finished.
I already knew that. I’d seen it with my own eyes.
And I’d seen with my own eyes the Shirleen/Marjorie Feud.
Shirleen was the Operations Manager for all three branches of NI&S, stationed at the Phoenix branch.
Marjorie was the Phoenix branch manager and Mace’s PA.
They had very different work styles.
And the Angels found it hilarious because those men were scared of nothing, but they avoided that shit like the plague.
“That it?” he taunted.
Taunted!
I had one more avenue to go down, I knew it was weak, and a last resort, but just because I was feeling stubborn—really, really stubborn—and because he was taunting me—taunting me!—I took it.
“You have a college degree with two majors and a minor?—”
“Forgot to mention, I got my master’s in criminal justice when I was on patrol.”
Finally!
An opening!
I jumped on that, crying, “Precisely!”
He again fought a grin.
I kept at him.
“I have a high school diploma and I’ve taken a nine-week baking and pastry course.”
I knew his good mood vanished when his brows slammed together.
Still, I concluded, “Inequality like that in a partnership can cause problems.”
“Yeah, maybe in 1792,” he shot back, now not amused at all, instead looking mega grumpy. “But I’m not a fledgling duke, and you’re a scullery maid, and we’ll be outcasts if we fly in the face of society’s norms and give our relationship a shot, so I’ll eventually blame you for me losing my place in a society where I have to wear an uncomfortable collar, drink port and be served gross shit molded in Jell-O for dinner.”
That was both funny and a fascinating selection for him to choose as his example.
I had no time to consider how fascinating it was.
He sat forward, putting his elbows to his knees but tilted his glorious head back to keep his likewise glorious eyes on me.
“We’re not there yet, fuckin’ obviously, since we’re having this conversation. But I’ll tell you straight out, I do not want that woman who tried to stiff you on her kid’s birthday cake. Taking that further, I have zero interest in a trad wife. Less than zero. You want to stay at home and raise the kids, if we get that far, we’ll discuss it. But I’ll be clear, I have no interest in a woman whose life revolves around designer shit and cocktails with her girls and having the perfect makeup when she sucks my cock. I’m also not interested in a woman whose sole focus is her family. Both would bore the fuck out of me.”
Mm-hmm.
Totally.
This was not going at all to plan.
Gabe wasn’t done.
“I’m thirty-three years old. I’m not a virgin. I’ve played the field. I’ve had shit dates and shit relationships. I’ve had great dates and great relationships.”
