Don't Kiss the Bride

This time I give her a genuine smile. “That’s what I like to hear.”

She stares at me for a few moments. “You have really nice hair. Do you use a hair mask?”

I let out a laugh. I don’t even know what a hair mask is. “That’d be a no.”

“It’s so shiny, I just want to touch it,” she says. I pray she doesn’t try to pet me. “It’s getting chilly out here. Are you cold?” She crosses her arms in front of her and shivers dramatically. “Do you want to come inside for a coffee, maybe?” Her brows rise suggestively.

Is a coffee offer the same as a Netflix and chill?

“Uh,” I stammer awkwardly. I’ll let my balls freeze off before I accept an offer like that. “I just had lunch and I gotta get back to work. Thanks, though.”

Smiling, she nods and looks behind me at my four guys. I wonder if she’s going to ask one of them next. “Okay, well, I’ll be home all afternoon if you change your mind. I’ll leave the back door unlocked.”

Whoa.

I say nothing and head back to the work area. Was she just trying to pick me up in her own backyard on a Friday afternoon? I’ve met her husband and kids. And her dog, for fuck’s sake. They seemed like the perfect family, and they spent over two hundred grand on this house to make it their forever dream home.

Unfuckingreal.

When four o’clock rolls around, we clean up for the day and I send the guys home. My plan is to get home early, shower, and head over to my aunt’s to surprise her with her ring. I don’t know if Skylar’s working today, but I’ll text her and ask her if she wants to come with me. Maybe it’ll get her out of this weird slump she’s been in all week.

On my way home, I’m stopped at a traffic light when, to my right, I see Skylar pumping gas into the car at the station on the corner. A man is standing close, leaning into her, with his arm on the top of the car. She’s laughing at something he said. It takes me a few seconds to realize its Kyle.

Mother. Fucker.

As soon as the light changes, I peel into the gas station lot, park my truck off to the side, and get out, slamming my door behind me. I watch as Skylar finishes filling her tank and tries to move past Kyle, who grabs her waist and pulls her back.

“What the hell’s going on?” I growl as I approach them.

Skylar looks up with surprise and relief. “Jude—”

“You followin’ me?” Kyle asks, grinning. “Or her? I beat you to it, man. Just asking our little friend here if she wants to grab a bite to eat.”

“Take your hand off her.”

He scoffs. “Dude, don’t be a cock blocker.”

Skylar attempts to move away, but he grabs her arm. “C’mon, honey. Don’t worry about him. We’ll have a good time.”

She wrenches her arm away. “If you touch me again, I’ll cut your balls off.”

Kyle’s eyes rove over her like a dog eyeing a juicy steak. They travel over her denim skirt, black leggings, and fuzzy boots. He licks his lips when his gaze lands on her Woodstock shirt tied in a knot at the front, revealing a tiny glimpse of her belly beneath the faded denim jacket thrown over it.

My old denim jacket that she must’ve foraged from my closet.

“C’mon, sweetheart, you look like you love being touched,” he says, and my vision goes blood red. Without warning, I slam my fist into his face.

“Fuck!” His head whips to the side. He stumbles, then lunges forward, slamming me into the gas pump behind me.

“Oh my God!” Skylar shrieks. “Stop it!”

Regaining my balance, I grab him and knee him hard in the gut. He lets out a groan, clutches his stomach, and falls to the ground. “Fuckin’ asshole,” he mutters under his breath.

“Stay the hell away from her,” I warn, standing over him. We’ve been beating the shit out of each other since we were kids, but this will be the last time. He crossed a line I’ll never let him come back from.

“Fuck you, Lucky.” He spits out a mouthful of blood, and Skylar recoils. “Why you gettin’ all bent over a piece of ass?”

“She’s my wife,” I say, my voice low. “And you’re fucking fired. I don’t want shit like you on my crew.”

Skylar touches my arm. “Jude, you don’t have to—”

I pull my arm out of her grasp. “We’ll talk about this at home.”

Kyle grabs the side of the Subaru and pulls himself up. Blood trickles from his nose.

“She’s the one you married? What the fuck! You married a fucking kid? You’re out of your damn mind,” he says, wiping his hand across his face. “And you can shove your job up your ass.”