Her Silent Revenge novel Chapter 39

Then I'll never hear the end of it. Her, talking about how wonderfully generous my jackass brothers are, and them ribbing me until the heat death of the universe about why I couldn't handle a young, energetic woman.

Fuck that entirely.

I pick up my phone and dial her contact.

It's late, and I idly wonder if she's out, taking advantage of the babysitter to have a night off. Does she ever get out for a date?

Or maybe she's passed out in bed because she doesn't have a workaholic problem that follows her home like yours truly.

"Hello?" Her voice is slightly breathy. "Can you just hang on one second?"

Oh, hell.

My blood heats.

What if I've interrupted her in the middle of something scandalous after all?

I hate that the thought of her having a normal sex life sends jealousy streaking through my blood.

It was six years ago, you deranged baboon. Six. Years.

You have no right to her.

Yeah, but my dick doesn't know how to tell time, and neither does that little part of my monkey brain that thinks the only man she ought to have in bed is me.

She makes a raspy breath again.

The odds of this going well just plummeted to zero.

I'm half tempted to disconnect and text her instead when I hear her say, "Arlo, if you don't knock it off and get your pj's on in sixty seconds, I'll put them on for you. Don't be a baby."

I am the world's biggest idiot.

Of course, she's mothering the hellspawn.

I throw together a quick, simple martini from the bar, pouring vermouth while I wait.

When she comes back, she's just as breathy and apologetic as I've come to expect.

"Sorry about that. I usually have him in bed by now, but I got home late."

"It's after nine," I say, failing to hide the surprise in my voice.

"Okay, fine," she says. "If there's something for Arlo to do during the meeting, I guess it could work. If you're willing, it would be great if you could pick us up and drop us off by the river later…"

If Mom has anything to do with it, there'll be plenty for him to do. "I promise you he'll be entertained," I say. "My mom loves kids." "Your mom?"

"The meeting's at her house. Like I said, a close friend of the family. That's what makes the stakes higher, and I want you to sit in and watch how I handle them. So, I'll pick you up around eleven. Hopefully that's a reasonable time?"

"Sure. Eleven's great."

Without giving her a chance to say anything more, I hang up.

Rude, maybe, but the less chance we have at leaping into another shitfight, the better.

I know we have a history, but I'm over it. And I'm even more over obsessing about it…

Her words float back to me, just like the way I lied to cut her off.

There's no reason this shouldn't be true. It was six years ago and there's no reason to cling to it.

But if it was all so easily said and done, this wouldn't be so difficult.

I wouldn't be jumping to conclusions about her sex life or fuming with unwarranted jealousy when she tells me she's over what happened.