The 'Burg: Hold On Part 62

"It working?" Mike asked.

"Cher snapping me out of it?"

"No, you and her."

"Spectacularly."

He said it. He meant it. It still scared the f.u.c.king s.h.i.t out of him.

Mike nodded, a small smile curving his mouth. "Then hold on to that, man."

"Mia and me worked spectacularly too, Mike," Garrett pointed out. "And Rocky and Tanner worked spectacularly."

"I hear you, but everyone's young and stupid during their lifetime, Garrett," Mike returned. "Part of life is figuring out how to grow up and not still be stupid."

His words were wise. They were also funny, so Garrett let out a chuckle.

While he was doing that, his phone rang. He looked to his desk and was surprised to see it was a call from Cher.

She texted; she rarely called.

Concerned it was something urgent, he nabbed his phone and took the call.

"Baby, all good?" he asked.

"In the world at large, as far as I know, yes. Outside continued war and famine. The men who rule can't seem to sort their s.h.i.t out enough to sort that s.h.i.t out, of course," she responded and she didn't shut up. "A woman had that job, s.h.i.t would be smooth. But we b.i.t.c.hes are too busy tearing each other down to worry about war and famine."

She was being a smarta.s.s.

All was good.

Garrett sat back in his chair, grinning at his desk as she continued.

"In my world, also yes. I'm at work. Some guy is retiring and decided his party fare would be liquid, which means we got twenty-five people here and most of 'em are good tippers," she shared, then carried on, "But in Ethan's world, it isn't, seein' as Mom was supposed to take him and his bud to the game tonight, hang with them there, and bring them back to my pad for some gaming before I take Teddy home. But there's a waitress sick at The Station and they've asked Mom to do a double shift. That's time and a half plus tips, and in our world, you don't turn down time and a half plus tips. Vi's busy. Feb's workin'. Meems has already got a sleepover with six boys she's dealin' with. Dusty's bustin' her hump gettin' ready for that show she's got comin' up and-"

Garrett interrupted her. "You want me to take Ethan and his bud to the game."

"Jessie can watch him," she told him quickly instead of confirming. "But she's declared she's not goin' to a high school football game unless she's got at least one of her girl posse with her and no one is available. And Ethan might spontaneously combust if he misses a 'dogs home game. So, yes..."

She paused and he knew she was pulling up the courage to go on, something unusual for her, when he heard the hesitancy in her tone as she finished.

"I know this is a lot and it's early with us, with you and Ethan. I probably shouldn't even ask. But I like to give my boy as much as I can give him. And-"

He cut her off again, saying quietly, "Cherie, I can take Ethan and his friend to the game."

There was another pause before, "Are you sure? You can say no. You can be honest. Anytime. With anything. I can talk to Ethan and-"

Again, Garrett interrupted her. "Cher?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

She surprised him again and did as told.

"Gonna stop by J&J's, get your keys," he told her. "You need me to pick him up from school too?"

Now Cher was talking quietly. "Yeah, honey, if you can. I was gonna get him and make him sit in the office here, but you lookin' after him would be a lot better. When he has to sit in the office, he doesn't b.i.t.c.h, but I can tell he's not a big fan of being cooped up there. Is that gonna be a problem with work?"

"No, but he's gonna have to hang with me and Mike in the bullpen for a couple of hours."

Another pause, then, "Prepare to be freaked, but you do that, he'll love you forever. And I mean forever. He might demand his best man mention you during his wedding reception speech, with the possibility of you being that best man, that kind of forever."

Garrett grinned again at his desk. "And that's supposed to freak me, why?"

"If you don't know, not gonna tell you," she muttered, then louder, "After I get off work, I'll meet you guys at the game."

Garrett felt his brows draw together. "Do you wanna go to the game after a shift at the bar?"

"It won't be long. And anyway, I wanna relieve you from duty. I also gotta get into my house and you'll have my keys," she answered.

"Watchin' the Bulldogs play ball is hardly 'duty,' brown eyes," he informed her. "Go home. Put your feet up."

"Merry-"

He rolled back from his desk, leaned down, elbows to his knees, eyes to the floor, focus now entirely on his girl so he could rea.s.sure that girl.

"Guys' night out," Garrett said softly. "I got Ethan. We'll talk man s.h.i.t and I'll feed him and make sure he and his bud are good. I'll get them home. You finish your shift, go home, relax, unwind, prepare, 'cause I want my girl rested and ready for our Sat.u.r.day."

Cher said nothing.

When this went on too long, he called, "Baby?"

He heard her clear her throat before she told him, "I have a spare set of keys in my junk drawer in the kitchen. Ethan can show you. Could you drop them by J&J's sometime before the game so I can get in while you guys are out?"

"Absolutely."

She again didn't reply.

So he asked, "You okay?"

"No."

It was a whisper and his focus sharpened.

"No?" he asked.

"No," she said. "Ethan's gonna love this. Guy time. Man talk. Showin' you off to Teddy. And I love it, knowin' I don't gotta say he can't have somethin' he wants because I gotta work and I can't find anyone to give it to him. So no, Merry, I'm not okay. This is not an okay feeling. This feelin' is me bein' f.u.c.king happy."

His throat closed, his chest tightened, and his first reaction was to disconnect the call. But at the same time, his gut had warmed because it felt so d.a.m.ned good just giving Cher that emotion and also doing it knowing she hadn't had a lot of it in her life.

He powered past his first reaction and told her, "I'll walk down to the bar in a few to get the keys, babe. Yeah?"

"Yeah, gorgeous. See you then."

"Later, Cher."

"Later, Merry...and thanks, honey."

"No problem."

He disconnected, straightened in his chair, and rolled back to his desk. He felt Mike's gaze, so he lifted his to his friend's.

"Take it we got a ten-year-old for ride-along this afternoon," he remarked.

"If that's gonna be a problem for you-" Garrett started.

Mike shook his head. "Ethan's a good kid. We're in doin' paperwork, so he's not stopping us from doin' s.h.i.t we need to do. And not like he hasn't hung with the guys before."

That was true. It hadn't happened often, but on occasion over the years when Cher needed him because there was no one else to help, Colt had brought Ethan in.

Garrett looked across the room.

Colt was sitting at his desk, grinning at something Sully was saying, Sully sitting across from him.

She hadn't asked Colt.

She'd asked Garrett.

That felt great.

And it made him uneasy.

"Kid's a good kid," Mike said, and the change in his tone caught Garrett's attention. "Woman's a good woman. I believe in you, brother. Sittin' across from me is a man who hasn't had it all. A man who thought he did and lost it but learned different. Who's watched his friends make poor decisions and bounce back. Who now has a shot at gettin' it all and is old enough not to be stupid."

That meant a lot, coming from Mike.

But Garrett wasn't going to share that.

Instead, he grinned and gave him s.h.i.t.

"You should be a therapist, Mike. Open your own clinic. Call it 'Don't Be a Dumb f.u.c.k Treatment Center.'"

Mike grinned back, returning, "You bein' my first client, thinkin' of adding, 'How Not to Be a Smarta.s.s.'"

"That might be a tougher addiction to kick," Garrett told him.

"You might be right. Though, this line of work, run into a lot more dumb f.u.c.ks than smarta.s.ses."

"Truth," Garrett muttered.

Mike's phone on his desk rang.

He turned his attention to it, so Garrett quickly called, "Yo."

Still going for the phone, Mike's gaze swung back to him.

"Thanks, brother," Garrett said low.

Mike lifted his chin.

Then he answered his phone.

Late that night, standing at her door, Cher in his arms, Garrett broke the kiss that had started five minutes ago as a good-night kiss and became a make out session.

He caught her eyes through her half-mast lids and whispered, "Late, baby. Gotta get home. Let you get to bed."

Her hands slid down from his hair to rest on his chest as her lips went slightly pouty.

It was cute.

But it was more sweet, her pout saying she didn't want him to leave.

"Okay," she muttered but didn't move out of his arms.

"You dropping Ethan at his friend's at five thirty tomorrow?" Garrett asked.

She stayed in his arms and nodded.

"Be here at six to take you to dinner. Be prepared to spend the night at my place," he ordered.

She grinned in a way that was not cute or sweet but something a f.u.c.kuva lot different.

Before that grin made him hard, he gave her a squeeze and said, "It was a good night, baby."

She continued to look into his eyes as she pressed closer. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he confirmed, because it was.

Ethan was a good kid. Ethan liked him. And Cher had not been wrong. He'd soaked in guy time, man talk, and he didn't hide the pride he felt having Garrett around and showing him off to his bud.

It did not suck.

It felt f.u.c.king great.

Which, at the same time in his f.u.c.ked-up head, was f.u.c.king terrifying.