Nailing My Wife
“Sure, Mrs. Morris. What brings you here? Our project doesn’t start until tomorrow.”
“Yes, well I had some more last-minute changes that I wanted to go over with you.”
I do my best not to lose my shit, but I knew from the moment she stepped into Rough Hands that she was going to be a pain in the ass. I go around and pull a pad of paper from Brenda’s desk. Then take a seat on the edge. “So…what can I help you with?” I’m getting a fucked-up feeling about her which is about to end badly if she lays a hand on me.
“Well, I’ve had some different ideas for the master bedroom. I really need you to see it to understand what I mean, but I wanted to have you stop by.”
“I can’t until tomorrow.”
“Um…oh I thought you could find a way to make it.”
“No, sorry no can do. Our team can be there tomorrow. I’m actually in the middle of handling orders then I plan to take my wife to a nice dinner.”
“Oh, what a lucky woman.” Damn, I don’t care for the way she said that. I’m dreading going out of town to work on this woman’s house. I wonder where her husband is and why his ass lets her handle this shit. Hell, if I would ever let Brenda deal with a bunch of sweaty men. Well, here is different. Every single one of these guys know she’s mine. And I still hate it. Sometimes I wish she’d quit. She doesn’t need to work.
“I’m the lucky one. My team and I will be there at seven in the morning. You can give me the details then.”
“Fine. It’s good to see you again, Mr. Harris.”
I nod and shake her extended hand. She lingers as I pull my hand away, rubbing her nails on my skin. I need to scrub them as soon as she’s gone. I brush them off on my shirt which I know is about to get filthy anyway. She smiles then sashays out of the office. I roll my eyes, hoping her ass trips or something. I could use a laugh. A huff comes from behind me, and I know it’s my wife. Damn, now I could really use a laugh.
I jump off her desk and get a cold glare. “Ben and I are on our way to a meeting. I’ll see you at home.” She walks around me, packing her tote bag, slinging it over her arm before she looks at me again.
I walk around the desk and slide my hand around her waist, pulling her to me. I need to touch her. I can’t stand this fucking tension. “Brenda, I swear you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“I know,” she answers meekly. I bend down and steal a kiss. She doesn’t pull away. Instead, she digs her hand into my hair.
“I love you, Brenda.”
“I know,” she replies. That’s not the answer I wanted, but I know that’s the best I’m going to get. Unless I force her to tell me what I did wrong. For the life of me, I can’t figure it out.
“Are you ready?” Ben says, exiting his office.
I shake my head at him. “We need a minute,” I tell him. Ben nods and walks outside to give us some privacy.
“What’s up, Dane? I have to go,” she complains, trying to get out of my arms.
“No, you need to tell me what’s bothering you. Fuck, Brenda, it’s for better or for worse,” I remind her.
“Now is not the time to talk about it. I have to work, and so do you. We’ll talk tonight.” She pulls away, and before I can pull her in for another kiss, she’s out the door. Damn, I don’t like the way she said that.
Chapter 3
Brenda
I walk out of the office, away from the man I love. Ben and I have work to do, but I can’t stop thinking about that woman, Mrs. Morris. Something about her is bothering me. Women come in here by themselves or with their husbands, and they try to flirt and giggle to get a better deal on the job. It doesn’t work, but most of them can’t help themselves. The men that work here are muscular and manly. It’s been going on long before Dane even worked here, but this is the second time I saw this woman flirt with my husband. He acts professional with her, but she still tries. I want to rip her throat out or pop her fake titties with my stapler.
“What’s up, Brenda? Are you and Dane okay?” Ben asks. I look at him and see the concern on his face.
“Yes, we are,” I lie. How can I tell him when I don’t know how to tell my own husband that I’m living with never-ending jealousy? It’s like a massive influx of women into the office since Dane and I married. I thought I was nuts, but it’s not the case. I pulled the clients for the last six months, and ninety percent of them are women. Many of them were smaller jobs. I can’t do this anymore. I’m going to turn in my two weeks’ notice tomorrow.