Page 36 of Not Mine to Rescue

“That’s it motherfucker. You and me outside.” Boots pointed at the door.

“What did I do?” Kid tried to act innocent.

“My wife is never touching another man’s dick.”

Kid shrugged. “Sierra’d do it.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Walt’s horror was evident.

Kid’s grin was evil. “Nope. Apparently, she and Mary were trying to find extra sheets for the loft in Ashley’s suite and walked in on this one jacking off.”

I grimaced. Kid sucked at keeping secrets.

Walt’s forehead tinted pink. That blood vessel swelled. “Oh yeah?”

Kid continued. “Granted, this is second-hand gossip, but Sierra said Mary swears it has to be at least six inches in diameter.”

Olivia curled her thumb toward her finger.

“Knock it off.” Boots grabbed her hand.

Walt slapped a thigh. “Well, Mary would know a six-inch girth. She gets it every night.”

“From who?” Boots asked.

“You better run,” Kid warned him.

Boots dug his grave. “He’s joking. No one’s dick is that fat. And you know how Walt gets when someone calls him that.”

“Hey, now…” Walt’s warning meant this was escalating. Someone had to shut them up right quick before it devolved to blows.

I stepped into the open and spread my arms out. “For the record, six and a quarter. And that’s before full arousal.”

“No wonder that chick came back,” Walt muttered.

In the gap behind Boots’ back, Olivia covertly curled her fingers together again.

Chapter Ten

Honoria

Lawyers truly should know better. Jim’s best buddy pounced on me first. “Have you seen the baby yet?”

Have you ever asked yourself if you’re a fight or flight person? I always thought I was a fighter. But in that moment, I found out I’m neither. I’m the “freeze” type. I barely blinked. My mouth couldn’t form the “b” without failing, so instead I said, “What?”

“Jim and Denise’s little boy. He’s so cute!” Then he proceeded to scroll through the photos Jim sent him.

All eight photos.

I’d gotten a text and shut it down after two. I couldn’t exactly mute a coworker’s number, could I?

“How do I put this nicely? Please don’t show me those.”

“Oh, right, you’re still hurting from the divorce. Sorry, Honey.”

I wanted to scream. Somehow I managed to keep my tone neutral. “It’s Honoria, remember?” That’s my fucking name, dickhead. It’s on the letterhead for crying out loud.

His happy expression faded. “Don’t be all sour about this. Let him have his moment.”