Cock Blocker (BRRMC Roadhouse Tales 3)

Staring at my reflection in the mirror it’s much worse than I imagined. I spent most of my day yesterday in bed licking my wounds and eating junk food while snuggling up with Whiskers. Ugly bruises shaped like that asshole’s fat sausage fingers marks my cheek. My top lip is puffy and sore. Makeup can’t cover that which is shit luck for me. I start my new job today.

Applying my concealer, I do my best to look like I didn’t lose a fight with a biker. Hand touching my throat, I can still sense the presence of that belt cutting off my airway. I close my eyes and take five deep breaths. I remind myself it could’ve been worse. Some women aren’t as lucky as me. Some women never return home after a night out with a man like that. I don’t know what I was thinking signing up for that app. Nicholas never would play into my fantasies. I wanted to experience it at least once. What I got didn’t meet expectation.

Applying my lip gloss, I rub my lips together making a popping sound. Hiss. The action forces a wince out of me, pain slicing throw my sore jaw. Talking will be fun today. Not. In the bedroom, I slip on my heels and palm my earrings from the dresser. I push my hoops through the holes as I strut down the stairs.

“Good morning, Mr. Puss.” I bend to scratch him behind his ears.

“Meow.” He rubs against my ankle, wanting his breakfast. Half wet, half dry, I fill his food bowl and change out his water. I snag my favorite travel mug that reads: Black Like My Soul, by the handle and fill it to the brim with coffee. I don’t have time for breakfast. I’ll munch on a granola bar on the drive. One luxury I miss about the city is fast food on every block. Drag Creek has a Dairy Bar, that’s great but they don’t serve breakfast and the diner in town, as I discovered last week is always crowded.

I pause in front of the alcove between the dining room and kitchen. Jagger’s phone number stares back at me. I can picture his cobalt eyes. Dark. Sexy. Piercing. I wouldn’t mind seeing him again if he hadn’t been present for one of the most humiliating experiences of my life. He was cool about it but still no one wants a man to remember her for something like that. I snatch the post it and tuck it in my purse. Not that I expect to use it, but one never knows when a psycho biker might turn up hellbent on revenge for getting his ass handed to him in front of a crowd.

“Be a good boy today,” I call out to Whiskers as though he understands me. Locking the door behind me, I scan my driveway for anything unusual. Before I unlock my car and get in, I check the backseat through the rear passenger windows. I’m being precautions while appearing overly paranoid. A tight tingling sensation moves along my throat and I swallow.

This is stupid. I enter my vehicle and make the drive into town to work to begin my first day as the replacement for Mrs. Wild. She had a heart attack last week and won’t be back for this semester. I had accepted the position to be her assistant but now I will be taking over the class. My bank account is healthy. Nicholas didn’t ask me for anything in the divorce, but to be fair he kept the house, and I had my inheritance from my father.

Parking in my designated parking space I shut off the engine and look over my appearance in the visor mirror to be sure I did an okay job covering the bruises. Buses are already at the loop dropping kids off. I grab my thermos and my purse. Time to get this over with.

In the teacher’s lounge I clock in and grab a donut. I forgot to grab a granola bar when I left the house.

“Good morning,” Sondra, the secretary greets me.

“Hey.”

“You nervous? First day and all.”

Inside I’m shitting myself. This will be my first teaching position. After college I never entered the workforce. My ex-husband wanted to start a family, but honestly, I wasn’t ready. We wanted different things that eventually drove us apart. He respected me enough to come to me before he acted on impulse. Five years into our marriage and he had met someone. When he told me and I didn’t feel any jealousy, I knew we were over. I gave him my blessing, but he waited until the divorce was final. Nicholas is a good man. Ending our marriage while relatively easy, it hurt. I lost my best friend.

There’s three sets of parents and their kids standing outside of my door. I stick my white powdered donut between my lips and fish my keys back out of my purse. I get the door open and tear off a bite of the sugary goodness, then down it with my coffee as they file into the classroom behind me. I place my purse in the bottom drawer of the desk.

“Excuse me, where’s Mrs. Wild?”

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Ms. Jackson. Mrs. Wild had some health complications and won’t be returning this semester.”

“But she’s always taught this class.”

“I understand, but I assure you that I value your child’s education and am committed to making this a great year.”

“Come on, Avery.” She jerks her son out the door.

“Okay then,” I mutter under my breath. That went smooth. “Hello, everyone. I’m Ms. Jackson, your kindergarten teacher. Parents, if you want to help your student find their seat, you’ll find their names on the tables with their red folders that contain their supply list and the class syllabus.”

Low murmurs sound and they all move around the room finding their seats.

We’re off to a decent start. There are only two students crying to go home so far. I busy myself while the parents say their goodbyes with the packets to handout for the getting to know you introduction exercise.

All the parents have gone, and the first bell is about to ring when the door opens. I glance up into cobalt eyes. Jagger smirks at me and my cheeks flush a pale shade of red. Shit. What’s he doing here. “Go find your seat, bud.”

I shift my gaze down at a little boy with blond hair who looks nothing like Jagger. “And you are?”

“This is Augustus, but he prefers Gus,” Jagger answers for him.

“Hello, Gus. I’m Ms. Jackson.”

“Hello. My mom had a mi-drain.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Go ahead and take your seat.” I point to the empty chair next to Abigail. “Can I talk to you in the hall?” I ask Jagger.

“Yeah. Sure.”