When nothing goes right, look who’s left.
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I should have guessed that it was going to be one of those days and just gone home and gone back to bed.
First, I decided to swing by Starbucks, which I never did but I was dragging. Apparently, “just fuck me up” did not translate to large coffee in their fancy barista language. Things only got worse when I pulled into work to see Tommy, he was from another Harley Davidson shop and would come by sometimes to help us out for the day. He drove me crazy, it wasn’t the fact that he thought that he was God’s gift to women it was more that he couldn’t understand why women didn’t agree with him. When I looked at him I couldn’t help but think, how in the hell out of one-hundred-million sperm was he the one that won out?
“Hey, Leo, did you order from Snap-on Tools?”
I opened my toolbox and grabbed a ten-millimeter socket for disconnecting the bike’s battery. “That’s original, female mechanic, I’ve never heard that one before.”
Unfortunately, he didn’t let up…by the end of the day, I was ready to leave or commit murder—I didn’t care which.
“Hey, Leo, you know why women are supposed to cook, right?”
I rolled my eyes and didn’t answer as I cleaned up my workstation so I could get the fuck out of there.
“They already come equipped with milk and eggs.”
“Wow, I guess that Viagra is really working for you because you seem like twice the dick you were last time. But, keep this in mind, maybe your woman stays in the kitchen because you have no clue what to do with her in the bedroom.”
I turned to pick up my helmet and caught Mike’s eyes. My boss was giving me a thumbs-up. What was wrong with this world when it became near impossible to fire asshats like that guy?
“I’m headed home.”
“Have a great weekend,” Mike hollered back. “And tell Kayson congratulations from all of us.”
Most of the time, everyone thought of me as one of the guys, but I had my girly side and tonight it was doing the Sex in the City thing and heading to Club Bed. Only I wasn’t going to be drinking. I had a hot date with DJ Pillow and ZZ Blanky. Then I’d be showing my sheets some ass and giving my pillow some head.
I needed sleep if I had any hope of making it through another wedding.
By seven o’clock, I was in cutoff jeans and a T-shirt, and was curled up on my couch, doing the one thing I’d never admit to doing…watching a Hallmark movie. This one always tore me up. It was about a woman who lost the love of her life when he went off to war and never returned home, and the last thing she’d given him was a homemade card. I’ll never understand how Hallmark always knew just how to get you, but they did—each and every time. Right there in the heart. They always made you ugly cry.
I was in the middle of dabbing my eyes with the tissue that I clutched in my hands when my phone rang. Fumbling for the remote control, I turned down volume before I answered. I’d never hear the end of it if anyone heard the mushy talk coming from through the line. I was Leo, they expected me to be tough.
“Yo. Whatcha doing?”
“Hey, Soph, not doing much just watching Sons of Anarchy.”
“Haven’t you already seen every episode a gazillion times?”
“Yeah but Jax is hot.”
“Are you crying? There’s no crying over bike gangs.”
“Nah, it is just one of the emotional episodes. Plus, I think that I’m getting my period. I’m feeling a little bit like a whiney weak ass bitch. Anyway, what can I do you for?” I trailed my fingers through Throttle’s soft fur. Her rumbling purr was soothing.
“I still can’t get over the fact that you’re crying while watching Sons.”
“Yeah, it’s the one where Opie dies. You have to admit it, even you cried at that one.”
“I think everyone did. I just wanted to confirm that you are meeting us for lunch tomorrow. I promised that I’d help out.”
“I’ll be there. Don’t worry, I’ll tell the bride that you are being a good-wittle bridesmaid and doing what you’re told to do,” I said in my most kid-like voice.
“Bite me. See you tomorrow.”
Before becoming a romance writer, Danielle was a body double for Heidi Klum and a backup singer for Adele. Now, she spends her days trying to play keep away from Theo James, who won’t stop calling her or asking her out.
And all of this happens before she wakes up and faces reality where in fact she is a 50-something mom with grown kids. She’s been married longer than Theo’s been alive, and she now gets her kicks riding a Harley.
As far as her body, she can thank Ben & Jerry’s for that, as well as gravity and vodka. But she says that she could never be Adele’s backup since she never stops saying the F-word long enough to actually sing.
Danielle writes about kickass women with even better shoes and the men that try to tame them (silly, silly men).
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