The 'Burg: Hold On Part 52

She studied him, and when his body shifted, she said quickly, "Maybe we should find a time to talk when we've both calmed down."

"f.u.c.kin' s.h.i.t," he muttered and moved, taking the only option she was giving him.

He went to his jacket and shrugged it on. He grabbed his phone, shoved it in his pocket, and nabbed his keys.

He then went to the door and looked back to his ex-wife, who had only moved a few feet from the wall.

"I'm goin' out," he shared. "I don't got much I give a s.h.i.t about, though it'd suck havin' to buy a new TV. Now you can either get out so I can lock up and keep that TV, or you can stay until you finally catch my drift. All I ask is you close the door. If you're here when I come back, I'll go to a hotel. What I am not gonna do is spend more time with you. You got five seconds. What's it gonna be?"

"Merry, you can't just..."

She kept talking, but Garrett didn't listen.

He counted to five.

Then he walked out, closing the door behind him while Mia was still talking.

Garrett got fast food for dinner, trying to calm down before he hit J&J's.

He would find he didn't succeed when he opened the door, his eyes going behind the bar to see Cher there with Jack. She took one look at him and her face shifted from the grin that was starting into a freeze.

She began walking down the bar.

He moved in, taking it in.

It was relatively early on a Sat.u.r.day night, but the place was in full swing. Darryl was there and Dee was working the floor.

Jack and Cher had the bar.

But the stools at the end were all empty, waiting for the men who usually claimed them. None of them were there mostly because all of them had women they preferred to be with on a Sat.u.r.day night, so they wouldn't be at a bar unless their women were with them.

Except Merry.

Like Colt, his woman worked there.

He hit a stool and she was right in front of him.

He barely had his a.s.s on the seat before she remarked, "I'd say this was a nice surprise except you look like you wanna kill somebody."

"Mia's heard about us."

She stared at him before she turned and reached to the top-shelf whisky.

Yeah, they knew each other. This wasn't just starting out. They'd laid the foundation. They'd just added f.u.c.king fantastic s.e.x and expensive dinners and him getting more of Cher's smart mouth.

And her sweet.

"Baby, aim lower. I got a taste for the good stuff, but my budget's bein' revised," he said.

He saw her body jolt, she gave him a look over her shoulder, then she reached lower.

As she poured him his drink, he took in her tight red top, her a.s.s in her jeans, and her high heels. Finally, he felt himself calming.

"Good news is, the talk me and her had to have is done," he shared.

She set the bottle aside and leaned in to her forearms. "Yeah?"

"Not the way I wanted it to go," he said.

When he took a sip of whisky and didn't elucidate, she prompted, "Talk to me, gorgeous."

Garrett shrugged slightly.

"Said what I had to say," he told her. "Seein' as she came in p.i.s.sed as all h.e.l.l, thinkin' me goin' out with you was me testin' her, not sure she heard. She said a few words. I returned a f.u.c.kuva lot more. Not thinkin' she got me seein' as I told her to get her a.s.s out, but she didn't leave, so I did. She might still be at my place. Or, alternately, she left, leavin' my pad wide open and I'll get home later to find I need to go out and buy a new TV."

As he spoke, he watched her eyes get big, and when he was done, she asked, "You left her there?"

"Yeah. Closed the door on her, she was still talkin'."

"Holy s.h.i.t," she whispered.

"She wouldn't leave and I was done, so I had no choice."

Her lips twitched.

He might be calming, but he found not one thing funny.

"It wasn't the way I wanted it to go, Cher," he reminded her.

"You walked out with your ex-wife in your place," she stated.

"Couldn't strong-arm the b.i.t.c.h," he pointed out. "She was okay with shovin' me, but man's any man at all, he's got it in him to check it even if he's itchin' to shove back."

Her lips were no longer twitching.

"She shoved you?"

"Twice."

He saw that he might be calming, but Cher was not.

"You're f.u.c.king s.h.i.tting me," she spat.

No, she was not calming, and as cute as she looked, preparing to turn into a h.e.l.lcat for him, it was time to focus on calming her.

"It's done. May take a while, but if the words don't sink in, my actions will. Only thing I gotta worry about now is. .h.i.ttin' my place later and findin' it cleaned out. I got a plan to take my girl's boy out with her and her mom to celebrate his birthday at Sw.a.n.k's. Won't be able to do that if I gotta drop two large on a TV."

That did it. All the anger vanished when he talked about taking Ethan to Sw.a.n.k's for his birthday.

But her lips parted when he talked about dropping two grand on a television.

"Two large?" she asked, her eyebrows going up.

"Gotta get a new one, not gonna f.u.c.k around. Trade up. Eighty inches."

"Your media center won't fit an eighty-inch TV," she noted.

"Then I'll also have to buy a new media center."

She stared.

Then she busted out laughing.

And that was it.

All that he needed.

Cher was laughing.

Garrett was calm.

He reached out and nabbed her hand.

She didn't pull away.

More for the 'burg to chew on and he felt the eyes. He knew that he and Cher were the latest meal.

He didn't care. And even if he did, he'd care less when her hand latched on to his and she leaned deep across the bar.

"Silver lining, gorgeous, your to-do list is one lighter," she said, still laughing.

"Yeah," he agreed.

She held his hand and hers tightened as the humor slid from her.

"Sucks, baby," she whispered. "Wish it didn't go down like that for you."

He did too.

But at least it was done.

He just had to hope his message finally leaked in so Mia would stop her s.h.i.t.

Then again, he was going to look for a new place (another reason to hope his TV was there when he got back; he didn't need that outlay lightening his down payment). Eventually, he'd move and she wouldn't be able to find him.

Or he'd have her a.s.s arrested for hara.s.sment.

One way or another, the message would get across.

He looked into Cher's warm brown eyes as they looked into his, a.s.sessing to see if he was okay.

To show her he was, he asked, "My good girl find time for just her and me?"

Those eyes went soft and her fingers stayed firm around his when she replied, "Batten down the hatches, Merry. Had a chat with Mom. Family dinner is set for Thursday with your a.s.s in a seat at her table."

"Terrific," he muttered, and she smiled.

"But I got Sat.u.r.day off and Ethan has a sleepover at a friend's, so I'm all yours."

"I'm on call."

"f.u.c.k," she whispered.

"On call doesn't mean on a desk," he told her. "Just means I might have to leave, but it also means I can come back."

Her eyes brightened. "That works, honey."

It did. It was his life. And if he didn't jack it up, it could be hers. So it was good she could work with it.

"Now, you gonna let that whisky sit forever, or are you gonna rinse away the s.h.i.t and get loose with me while I'm workin'?" she asked.

He gave her his answer by letting her go, grabbing his gla.s.s, and taking another sip.

She approved by smiling.

"Gotta make sure things are covered," she told him. "But I'll be back."

"I'll be here."

She liked that. He knew because she didn't hide it.

And he liked all that.

Yeah, they were working and doing it in a way he knew deep into his gut that wouldn't quit.

Unless he jacked it up.

"Go easy," she advised as he let her hand go. "That s.h.i.t only costs ten bucks a go, but a p.i.s.sed off ex-wife left at your pad, you might be dealin' with more than a boosted TV."

"Way to kill a calm, baby," he muttered but did it grinning.

"Just bein' real, makin' sure you don't get blindsided," she returned and leaned back in. "But, just sayin', the b.i.t.c.h trashes your place, you can catch your shows at mine. The spirit of Jerry Garcia likes company."

That was when Garrett busted out laughing.

Which was when Cher knew it was safe to leave.