I had always assumed Bridget was just more beautiful than me.
“What happened with the divorce? Where does he live now?”
“In—in our old house.”
“Did he buy you out of it?”
“. . . no,” I whispered, feeling ashamed of myself and miserable.
I should have been stronger. I should have fought harder. But at the time I didn’t even know I could. And I had just wanted to be done with him.
If Abraham said any of those things, I was going to cry.
But instead he just grunted noncommittally. Didn’t judge the shitty deal I had negotiated in my divorce.
“Well? Why aren’t you heading inside? Where’s my damn blowjob?”
I could have leaped into his arms and kissed him, but instead I turned and walked inside, hearing his heavy tread behind me, that warm glow of knowing he was right behind me, and protecting me.
It was soothing to sink to my knees (on a pillow, of course) and suck his dick. I could feel my damn cortisol levels sinking with each lick, looking up through my lashes as I took his thick, salty-sweet length into my mouth.
Right where I wanted to be.
CHAPTER 12
Abraham
Polly was being aggravatingly mysterious about the Christmas “surprise” she had for me, even though she was the least sneaky person in the world and I was aware it was a quilt she was making for me.
After all, I could hardly avoid seeing some of these little scraps she squealed and stuffed under the covers as soon as she saw me.
It was like a shy little rabbit trying to hide from a fuckin fox.
Although spanking her sweet little ass until it was nice and red had pleased the hell out of me, I was still feeling irritated about her looking up my mother.
If I knew Polly, she hadn’t forgotten about it. And I was the kind of bastard who couldn’t let anything go.
What the fuck had made Polly even wonder about my mother? Let alone start looking for her?
If my mother had wanted to be found, she would have made that clear.
It was ancient history now. No longer concerned me.
Wasn’t it just like Polly, coming in and trying to meddle in things that didn’t concern her?
Why couldn’t she just keep it to dick-and-pussy stuff? That’s what I wanted in the first place. No one told her to go around baking cookies, hauling atreein from the woods for Christmas, playing carols all damn day.
And ever since Polly had invited her aunt over, Fizz had been at me to have a damn Christmas Party as another attempt to see her.
In my irritation, I ignored that Polly had said she would never try to contact Ma or do any more looking for her unless I agreed.
I also ignored that her cooking made me feel better than I had in years. I’d even tested my blood sugar and it was in the normal range.
And hell, even matcha lattes weren’t that ass.
But I had made it very clear to Polly that this would never be a relationship. So why was she engaging in relationship activities?
All the same, I couldn’t quite bring myself to send her away, like I should have.
