Clayton (Bourbon & Blood Book 2) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Seraphina Donavan
the dulling effect of alcohol.
This is not a two person support group. It’s a one man show. We’ve talked about his work, his house, his boat. We’ve talked about his ex, his workout regimen, which incidentally is puny. I could kick his ass three ways from Sunday in the gym. But the bottom line is, we haven’t talked. He has talked. And I have sipped way more of my wine than I meant to, because I haven’t been able to get a word in edgewise.
“You know you’re much prettier than I expected,” he says, and the way he smiles at me makes my skin crawl a little. Is this seriously who my friends see me with? Have I pissed Brit off without knowing it?
“That’s nice,” I respond lamely. “Thanks, I think.”
He clearly doesn’t get that my response wasn’t genuine flattery as he’s now resting his slightly sweaty hand on my knee. “You know, Annalee, we could go back to my place. Kick back and relax on the couch, maybe watch a movie?”
No, sir. There will be no Netflix and chill. What the ever loving fuck is wrong with men? Are they all this damn dumb?
“I’ve really enjoyed meeting you, Steve, but I need to be going now.” At great personal cost, I force myself to be polite, to say something other than take your paws off me, you reptilian scumbag.
“Are you sure you have to go? It’s still early,” he says, and checks his very expensive watch for the umpteenth time that evening. Yes. I saw your Omega. Yes. I get that it’s super expensive and means you’re loaded with credit card debt. No. I’m not impressed. All this asshole has done is make me miss Clayton, which in turn makes me even madder at Clayton. I wouldn’t be here putting up with this self important dick if my almost-ex-husband weren’t such a high handed, know it all asshole!
“It is early,” I agree. “But I’m ready to go home… alone. Have a nice evening.”
Apparently, he’s not completely obtuse. Just mostly. He picks up on the unimpressed tone and the clear lack of infatuation with him that time. He sneers at me. “It’s no damn wonder your husband left you.”
“He didn’t leave. I threw him out… but on that same note, if I’d been married to you, I would have cheated. I would so have cheated. The fact that your wife stayed faithful for seven years should get her nominated for sainthood.” I pick up my wine glass and drain the rest of it. “Thanks for the drink and the reminder that my ex isn’t so bad after all.”
I march out to my car, leaving several people snickering in my wake. I’m too drunk to drive and if I take a cab to Brit’s house I’ll spend the rest of the night getting the third degree on why I didn’t like him, and how impossibly high my standards are. Or worse, she’ll tell me the truth; that I came on this date wanting to hate him because he’s not Clayton. Well, to hell with that. I’ll just sit in my car and sober up.
I pull my phone out of my purse and open the reading app on it. There’s a smutty novel I’ve been meaning to get to and there’s no time like the present.
2
CHAPTER TWO
Clayton
----
I got Emma Grace off to school. Her socks don’t match, but in those cowboy boots, no one will know. Her ponytail might also be a little less than perfect. I’m not like Annalee who will fight with her over her hair. She says it hurts and I say that tangle can stay there until her mother wants to remove it.
“Get your backpack,” I tell her as I grab one of the Pop-tarts from the toaster. “And don't tell your mother that breakfast involved frosting.”
With her pink backpack hanging off her shoulder, she takes the Pop-tart with a grin. “And sprinkles.”
“Secret, Emma Grace. Pinky swear?”
She holds out her tiny hand and we lock pinkies for a second. “You've got all your stuff for dance practice after school?” I ask.
I run a damn distillery and the kid has more appointments to keep track of than I do.
“Yes,” she replies with an eye roll. “Miss Lisa says
This is not a two person support group. It’s a one man show. We’ve talked about his work, his house, his boat. We’ve talked about his ex, his workout regimen, which incidentally is puny. I could kick his ass three ways from Sunday in the gym. But the bottom line is, we haven’t talked. He has talked. And I have sipped way more of my wine than I meant to, because I haven’t been able to get a word in edgewise.
“You know you’re much prettier than I expected,” he says, and the way he smiles at me makes my skin crawl a little. Is this seriously who my friends see me with? Have I pissed Brit off without knowing it?
“That’s nice,” I respond lamely. “Thanks, I think.”
He clearly doesn’t get that my response wasn’t genuine flattery as he’s now resting his slightly sweaty hand on my knee. “You know, Annalee, we could go back to my place. Kick back and relax on the couch, maybe watch a movie?”
No, sir. There will be no Netflix and chill. What the ever loving fuck is wrong with men? Are they all this damn dumb?
“I’ve really enjoyed meeting you, Steve, but I need to be going now.” At great personal cost, I force myself to be polite, to say something other than take your paws off me, you reptilian scumbag.
“Are you sure you have to go? It’s still early,” he says, and checks his very expensive watch for the umpteenth time that evening. Yes. I saw your Omega. Yes. I get that it’s super expensive and means you’re loaded with credit card debt. No. I’m not impressed. All this asshole has done is make me miss Clayton, which in turn makes me even madder at Clayton. I wouldn’t be here putting up with this self important dick if my almost-ex-husband weren’t such a high handed, know it all asshole!
“It is early,” I agree. “But I’m ready to go home… alone. Have a nice evening.”
Apparently, he’s not completely obtuse. Just mostly. He picks up on the unimpressed tone and the clear lack of infatuation with him that time. He sneers at me. “It’s no damn wonder your husband left you.”
“He didn’t leave. I threw him out… but on that same note, if I’d been married to you, I would have cheated. I would so have cheated. The fact that your wife stayed faithful for seven years should get her nominated for sainthood.” I pick up my wine glass and drain the rest of it. “Thanks for the drink and the reminder that my ex isn’t so bad after all.”
I march out to my car, leaving several people snickering in my wake. I’m too drunk to drive and if I take a cab to Brit’s house I’ll spend the rest of the night getting the third degree on why I didn’t like him, and how impossibly high my standards are. Or worse, she’ll tell me the truth; that I came on this date wanting to hate him because he’s not Clayton. Well, to hell with that. I’ll just sit in my car and sober up.
I pull my phone out of my purse and open the reading app on it. There’s a smutty novel I’ve been meaning to get to and there’s no time like the present.
2
CHAPTER TWO
Clayton
----
I got Emma Grace off to school. Her socks don’t match, but in those cowboy boots, no one will know. Her ponytail might also be a little less than perfect. I’m not like Annalee who will fight with her over her hair. She says it hurts and I say that tangle can stay there until her mother wants to remove it.
“Get your backpack,” I tell her as I grab one of the Pop-tarts from the toaster. “And don't tell your mother that breakfast involved frosting.”
With her pink backpack hanging off her shoulder, she takes the Pop-tart with a grin. “And sprinkles.”
“Secret, Emma Grace. Pinky swear?”
She holds out her tiny hand and we lock pinkies for a second. “You've got all your stuff for dance practice after school?” I ask.
I run a damn distillery and the kid has more appointments to keep track of than I do.
“Yes,” she replies with an eye roll. “Miss Lisa says
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