My Kinda Mess - eBook Read online

  I think I’m in love.

  The glass I didn’t realize I’m holding shatters when it hits the old tile floor, pulling my attention away from the woman who seems to monopolize so much of it lately. Grabbing the broom, I sweep up the broken pieces and dump them into the trash before grabbing a new glass. I have work to do, and I’m not getting any of it done with her here.

  Typical.

  “I’m afraid you have it bad,” the man at the end of the bar says. He’s wearing a pressed button-down shirt, glasses, and a friendly smile.

  “You think?” I ask, glancing up and offering him a grin of my own. I finish pouring the draft beer into the mug and slide it across the counter towards an older man who’s here almost nightly.

  “Definitely. I only speak from experience,” he says, glancing over his shoulder towards one of the sisters.

  “Which one?” I ask, tossing the towel over my shoulder.

  “Payton, the oldest,” he says, pointing to the taller and slightly thicker woman across the room. Her smile is wide and her face radiates happiness as she teases and jokes with her younger sisters. “Dean,” he adds, extending his hand across the bar.

  “Linkin,” I answer, giving him a firm shake.

  “The stripper?” the other guy I don’t know asks, a wide smile sweeping across his face.

  “The one and only,” I reply with a laugh.

  “Ryan,” he says, offering his hand. “The one in the blue is mine,” he adds, nodding towards the woman standing beside Lexi.

  “How in the hell did you end up next door stripping, man?” Levi asks before shoving a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

  “That’s an interesting story.”

  “Let me guess… Grandma,” Ryan says, rolling his eyes.

  “That woman,” Dean adds, letting the rest of his thought trail off. But I can’t help but notice the way each of them smiles and shake their heads, as if recalling some story or situation, which centered around the spunky ol’ woman.

  “She’s something,” I confirm. “Why aren’t you guys over there with them?” I ask nodding towards the group that they can’t take their eyes off.

  “Technically, it’s sisters’ night, which means we’re not supposed to be here,” Ryan answers.

  “But we never leave them by themselves unattended for too long. They seem to find trouble just about anywhere they go,” Levi adds. I give them a nod before heading back down to fill an order for a group of couples at one of the back booths.

  Just as I start to make my way back towards Levi and the guys, a vision in tight red pants comes up to the bar and throws her arms around Ryan’s shoulder. She says something to him that makes him laugh, and watches while he pulls out his wallet.

  “I just received word that my fiancée says road-head might be on the menu tonight if I buy the next round,” Ryan tells me, an anxious gleam in his eyes. He pulls a twenty from his wallet and sets it on the table. “Six shots of tequila.”

  “I think she meant more beers, Ry,” Lexi tells him with a laugh.

  “Yeah, but if road-head is on the table, I want to make good and sure she’s tipsy enough to fulfill the offer.” Dean and Levi each laugh beside him.

  I grab six shot glasses and pour the golden liquid almost to the top of each one. Grabbing a tray, I set each shot, six wedges of lime on a plate, and a saltshaker in the middle. Before I can take his money, Lexi’s hand shoots out and stops my movement. One look at her emerald eyes sends lightning bolts of lust straight to my groin. “I need six draft Stellas too, please.”

  My eyes hold her gaze just a few seconds longer than normal. “Comin’ right up,” I tell her as I get to work filling the order. The smile is still present on her face, which seems to lighten her mood considerably. “Good day?” I ask, setting the six mugs of beer onto a second tray.

  She smiles again and my heart jumps in my chest. “Yeah, it was. You?”

  “Can’t complain,” I say grabbing my towel and holding my hands up around me. “Just another night in paradise,” I quip with a smirk and a wink.

  “I can see that,” she says, shifting her weight from side to side, taking a big drink from the mug closest to her. The conversation seems to be over, but she has yet to move, which makes me smile even more.

  “Hey, Lex, you wanna dance?” some needle-dick preppy boy says just over her right shoulder.

  “There’s no dance floor,” she replies, offering him a friendly smile.

  “Sure there is,” the preppy douche says, nodding towards the area in front of the jukebox with no tables.

  “Sorry, Andy. Maybe another time,” she says, taking another drink of her beer.

  “Aww, come on. One dance ain’t gonna kill ya,” he pleads, a winning smile pressed firmly against his arrogant face.

  “No, but I might,” I say, the words flying from my lips before I can stop them.

  The asswipe glances from me to Lex repeatedly, the wheels in his head spinning. You can tell he’s trying to decide if I’m kidding or not, and I can assure you I am not. I’m not one to resort to violence, unless provoked, but the thought of Lexi dancing with this joker makes me see red.

  “Maybe some other time,” Lexi reiterates, offering him a small grin.

  “Yeah, yeah maybe next time,” he replies, while slowly stepping away.

  She turns venomous green eyes my direction. “What was that?”

  “What? You should thank me. I just saved you from wasting your time with a douchecanoe like that.”

  “So I can waste my time with a bigger douchecanoe like you?”

  “I have a whole list of ways to waste time with you, Firecracker.”

  Crossing her arms at her chest (which just pushes those gorgeous tits up and on perfect display), she glares at me. “Let’s hear it.”

  “The list?”

  “Yeah, the list.”

  “Well, first, there’s making out in the hallway. You seemed to enjoy the hell out of it last time, so I thought we’d give it another go. You know, to waste time. Then, we can move it into your bedroom–or mine. I’m not picky. The list also consists of breakfast the next morning, which is a huge time waster, if you ask me. Especially since we’ll be eating in bed, naked, and can get right back to wasting more time–together–under the sheets.”

  “And then you walk away to waste time with someone else?”

  “Fuck no, Firecracker,” I say with heat before bending forward and leaning over the bar. “One time, one night, one day with you is never gonna be enough.”

  She stands up tall, unsure of how to respond. I can see excitement written all over her face, but something still holds her back. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s still not free from the mega douche she shares a last name with.

  “I have to…get back,” she says, pointing to her sisters, as one comes up to grab the second tray.

  “Come on, Lexi Lou. Time to catch up!”

  Lexi glances over her shoulder at me one more time before retreating to her group. I watch her the entire way, enjoying the hell out of the way her hips swing and her red jeans hug her perfect ass. She’s a lit stick of dynamite wrapped in a gorgeous package. I already know I’m going to get burned, but know there’s no way in fuck I can stay away.

  “That was like watching the opening scene in porn,” Levi says, saluting me with his beer.

  “She didn’t cut off your balls and beat you with them, so that’s a plus,” Ryan says.

  “Oh, she likes you for sure,” Dean adds.

  Instead of answering, I give them a smile before heading down to the far end of the bar to wait on the growing number of customers.

  She can deny it for as long as she’d like, but I know the truth. There’s an invisible pull that keeps drawing us together. I feel it, and I know she does too. I just have to bide my time until the perfect opportunity presents itself.

  Then, game over.

  She’ll be mine.

  Cha
pter Nine

  Lexi

  I’m pleasantly buzzed and ignoring the clock as it slides closer and closer to closing time. Lucky’s has started to thin out over the last hour or so, which is good because my group has gotten louder and more drunkier than before. Wait. Is that a word? Of course it is.

  It’s the shots talking.

  “How was your trip to Richmond?” Abby asks, her glassy eyes trying to focus on mine.

  “Ahhhhh-mazing! Like better than ahhhhh-mazing! What word is better than ahhhhh-mazing?” I ask my twin as we slide onto empty barstools.

  “I don’t know. Levi, what word is better than amazing?” Abby hollers at her boyfriend, who’s conversing with Dean.

  “Abby. That word is definitely more than amazing,” he says with this big dopey grin on his face. He looks at her like she hung the moon, and I guess, that’s all right. You know, if you’re into that sort of thing.

  “He says Abby is more amazing,” she yell-whispers at me with a giggle.

  “What did you find out in Richmond?” Payton asks, moving to stand between Dean’s legs and the bar.

  “I found out that there is a lot of sperm available for purchase.”

  “Sperm?” Ryan asks, giving me a curious glance.

  “Yep. Tons. And I’m going to buy some,” I say, digging out the folder and laying the contents across the top of the bar. My sisters and their significant others gather around, watching and waiting.

  “Candidate number one. He’s a pharmacist by day, enjoys mountain biking and deep-sea fishing, has blond hair and blue eyes, and a high IQ,” I say, pointing to the information on the form.

  “Potential sperm donor number two is a computer engineer who designs video games. He has an Italian American heritage with brown hair and eyes, which would be so pretty mixing with our features, especially if it’s a girl. Plus, she’d be smarty farty, with cute little glasses. Can you just imagine?” I ask the group as a whole, but don’t wait for anyone to answer as I grab the third page.

  “Number three is a body builder. He’s six two, has light brown hair and hazel eyes. He benches two-ninety and squats Buicks.”

  “And that’s important, why?” Meggy asks.

  “It’s not, but he sounded nice, so I put him in the keep pile,” I tell her before pulling out the fourth and final document.

  “And number four. He’s my favorite. Donor number four is a member of the Secret Service. He’s six-one, weighs one-ninety, and trains for triathlons in his free time. He has black hair and gray eyes and is fluent in three languages. His hobbies include karate, tai chi, and riding his Harley.” I stare longingly at the piece of paper as if it were about to propose marriage to me.

  “Ummm, Lexi?” Dean asks, pulling my attention away from my intended baby daddy.

  “Huh?”

  “Why are you looking at sperm donors?” he asks. The fact that he asked tells me my sister didn’t inform him of my life-changing decision. And the way the others are looking at me tells me no one actually thought I was serious when I mentioned it earlier in the week.

  “Because I’m having a baby. And I don’t need Chris or any man to do it. I just need his best swimmers,” I tell him with a salute of my half-empty beer mug.

  “You’re really going through with this?” Payton asks, her hand warm and comforting on my shoulder.

  “I am. I’m not letting Chris win.”

  “What does that mean?” Jaime asks, her arms wrapped around Ryan’s waist. I glance over at Abby, the only one who knows the real reason I left and decided to end my marriage. The silent conversation we have with our eyes lets me know she stands beside me and supports me in this decision.

  “It means that Chris lied. He didn’t want a baby. He told me he did, but didn’t. So I’m taking control of my life and doing something I’ve always wanted to do.”

  “You’ve always wanted to get knocked up with a turkey baster?” Ryan asks.

  “Not exactly, but it’s a little late in the game to be picky.”

  “So you’re doing this?” AJ asks.

  “I’m doing this. I’m supposed to call them Monday and let them know which donor I pick. Then, they start the artificial incrimination during my next ovulation.”

  “Artificial incrimination? How much have you had to drink?” Dean asks before bursting out laughing.

  “Po-tay-to po-tah-to. Insemination. Anywayyyyy,” I continue, drawing out the word. “They’ll use the healthy sperm and inject them into my ready and waiting womb. If all goes as planned, I’ll be as good as knocked up by first of the year.”

  Silence surrounds me, but when I glance up, it’s not the faces of my family that I see. It’s Linkin, and he looks…pissed. What the hell did I do now?

  “It’s that simple?” Meghan asks.

  “Yep,” I reply, chugging the rest of my beer. “We should do a shot to celebrate! Won’t be long and I won’t be able to drink for a while.” But the bartender makes no moves for the tequila.

  “I’m heading home. I’m exhausted, drunk, and ready to take advantage of my boyfriend,” Payton says, sending Dean a sly wink.

  “Your boyfriend approves of this plan wholeheartedly,” he replies, tossing a few bills on the bar for Linkin. “Anyone need a ride?”

  “Me, if you don’t mind,” Meghan says, pulling a few bucks from her pocket before sticking them under her empty beer mug on the bar.

  “Me, too. I’m not far from you guys,” AJ adds, setting down her glass. “Plus, at least if I ride with you two, I don’t have to worry about witnessing the road-head.” We all glance at Jaime who’s not even blushing.

  “I’d totally wait until you were out of the car, Alison.” Jaime punctuates her sentence by sticking out her tongue.

  “We’re out too. Lex, you ready?” Abby asks, gathering up her jacket and her boyfriend.

  “Naw, you two go. I’m gonna stay til close,” I say, throwing another five on the bar and sliding my beer mug towards the hottie behind the counter.

  “Are you sure?” she asks, glancing over at Linkin.

  “I got her. I’ll make sure she’s home safe,” he confirms to my twin.

  Abby wraps her arms around me and squeezes. “You’re taking control of your life, and I’m so proud of you,” she says, pressing her lips to my cheek.

  “Love you,” I tell her.

  “Love you too, Lexi Lou,” she says in a singsong voice, a wide smirk spreading across her face. In return, I stick out my tongue and make a very mature, grown-up face, complete with wrinkled nose and duck lips.

  When they’re gone, I realize I’m alone. With Linkin. And he’s staring at me from across the bar. “What?”

  Instead of answering with words, he shakes his head and turns to fill up my mug. I watch as he busies himself cleaning dirty glasses, emptying garbage, refilling coolers, and picking up chairs. He moves easily, gracefully even considering his size, as he works, chatting with the other two customers who remain.

  I feel myself really relax for the first time. I’ve been up in arms about my appointment today, worried that I’m rushing into a decision that will impact, not only myself, but a child for the rest of his or her life. But the fact still remains: I want a baby. I’ve always wanted one, but the older I get, the more I yearn and long for one of my own. I have no plans of getting remarried anytime soon, nor is dating on the horizon, so why not just take matters into my own hands? Or in the hands of the experts who are going to inject the lucky sperm donor’s man juice into my body.

  Easy peasy lemon squeezy with vodka and a twist of lime.

  Linkin walks the gentlemen to the door, locking it firmly behind them. It’s one in the morning and time to head home. I’ve never seen this side of the business, though I’ve closed down a few bars in my day. Never have I remained inside the establishment after the doors are locked and the neon beer signs turned off. It’s kinda creepy, if you ask me. For some place that was alive and bursting with
energy just a short time ago, it looks so sad and lonely now.

  I’m well past pleasantly buzzed and leaning more on the side of going to throw up in the morning. My head feels heavy and my brain muddled with slow motion thoughts as I look around the room and zero in on the man who makes my pulse quicken and my body hum. He’s bending over, collecting a little trash that was discarded on the floor. His ass looks amazing in his jeans, accented by a tight black tee and a pair of well-worn combat boots. His colorful ink is on full display, making me want to lick each and every tattoo on his body.

  “You okay?” he asks, walking up to me with a towel over his shoulder.

  His lips are full and his eyes are dilated as he scans my face. His entire body seems tense, which makes the muscles in his neck bulge. And speaking of bulges, the one in his pants is growing larger as we speak. Licking my lips hungrily, I return my gaze to his face, suddenly wishing he would throw me down on top of the bar and have his wicked way with me.

  Yes, please!

  “Are you-” he starts, but is cut off by my lips.

  I practically leap into his arms, plastering my body to his, and mold my lips to his own. Linkin hesitates, but only for a second. His arms are around me, holding me steady, as his mouth devours mine in a bruising, take-no-prisoners kiss. I grasp his shirt, pulling it from within the waist of his jeans. When my fingers connect with his warm stomach, I groan, loving the way his body feels beneath my fingertips.

  “Lexi,” he mumbles without removing his lips from my own.

  “Yeah?” I pant like the true hussy I am.

  “Are you really going to use some jackoff’s sperm to get knocked up?” His pained words make me stop my full-on lip assault. Pulling back, I gaze up at him with half-lidded, lustful eyes.

  “What?”

  “The whole baby thing. Are you serious?” he asks, running his thumbs down my cheeks and around to caress the back of my neck. It’s a tender touch that doesn’t match the burning in his eyes.

  “Uh, yeah. I am.”