The Aftermath (The Hurricane, #2)(22)
“Me too, baby,” I replied.
“You know, O’Connell, you’ve been talking to my boobs all night,” she replied.
“I know, Sunshine, but we’re married now. It means I’m legally entitled to stare at your tits every time you wear something hot and not get punished for it.”
She thought about this really hard for a moment. “I don’t recall that being in the small print of our marriage certificate but I’ll take your word for it.”
I patted my knee, and she sat down in my lap with a thump, making me smile. Damn she was cute when she’d been drinking.
“Great, the one place I go to kick back on my only night off, and you’re here.”
We both turned our heads to see that bitch Em waitressed with.
“Seriously, Katrina, what is your problem with me?” Em confronted her, and I knew she’d never have been in her face if she’d been sober.
“What’s my problem? Where do I start? How about the fact that you looked me up and down the first day you started and pinned me as a slut without knowing a thing about me. Do you even know how you look at any sexually confident girl?”
“So the fact that you’re always late, if you turn up to work at all, isn’t enough reason to dislike you? You know, it’s me who covers when that happens or when you’re not doing your job properly,” Em retorted but without much conviction.
“If I’m even less than one hundred percent, it’s usually because I’m exhausted, and in case you haven’t wondered why I’ve never been fired for taking time off at short notice, it’s because Rhona and Mike are good people who took the trouble to get to know me before judging me.”
“Look, I don’t know what’s been going on with you, but you’re not the only one with problems.”
I honestly never thought about how Em saw other women, didn’t really give a shit either to be honest, but there was no way this girl was f*cking up my wife’s birthday, if she hadn’t already. “Look, whatever you have to say to Em can wait until another day. Her twenty-first f*cking birthday ain’t the time to do it.”
“No, it’s okay, O’Connell,” Em said looking pretty white and seeming a lot more sober than she had a few minutes ago. “Baby, would you go and get us some drinks?” she asked me.
“Uh, no,” I replied. “Darlin’, I ain’t leaving you alone for some bitch to rip into you as soon as I’m gone.”
Rolling her eyes at my stubbornness, she asked the girl to join us. Looking suspicious and a little less pissed off, Katrina sat down.
“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way, and you’re absolutely right. I have been judging you. Thing is, O’Connell was my first but I was beaten and called a slut every day for as far back as I can remember for doing things like wearing strappy tops with no sleeves or leaving my underwear on the dryer. When that’s your benchmark for slutiness, I guess it’s easy to judge. I should have taken the time to get to know you. I’m sorry.”
“Shit. Are you always this f*cking nice? You apologizing never occurred to me so now I’m pissed off with nothing to do about it.”
“Welcome to my world,” I chuckled humorously and sipped on my beer. Em smiled tightly at Katrina but I had a feeling she was beating herself up over what this girl had said.
“If it makes you feel any better, I was lying when I said you’d smell your husband’s aftershave on me if you ever let him out of your sight. I was just trying to get a rise out of you. I don’t mess with married men,” she admitted to Em, and I was horrified. I don’t care how badly Em had judged this girl in the past, but making a wife think her husband is going to fool around behind her back is a low blow.
“Thanks,” Em replied with a half-smile, “but that didn’t really bother me that much. My husband wouldn’t cheat on me. But it’s nice of you to say so.”
“Are you for real? I thought judgy Emily was bad. I’m not drunk enough to deal with sorry, sweet, sugary Em. Let’s just agree that we’re not gonna be best friends any time soon. I’ll stop being bitchy if you stop being disapproving, and we’ll see if we can go a whole shift at least pretending to be nice.”
Man, this girl sucked at being nice almost as much as I did. She seriously needed to spend more time with Em. No doubt Em was racked with guilt for misjudging this girl.
“Okay,” Em said, still looking tortured.
“I’ll see you at Daisy’s then,” she said standing up from the table, “and happy twenty-first.”
She walked away, and Em sighed deeply.
“Hey, no browbeating today. It’s your birthday so let’s dance.”
Lifting her off my lap, I let her guide me through the throng of people to the dance floor, my hands resting on the gentle curve of her hips to make sure I didn’t lose her. I felt her tighten up as we moved our way through everyone. Even drunk she struggled to fight being a natural introvert. A lifetime of trying to blend into the background didn’t change just because she’d become my wife. Staying behind her, I stoked my hands up and down her hips, moving us to the beat as I nuzzled my nose gently against her neck and she shivered. It was too loud to talk without shouting but I didn’t need words. The scent of vanilla had me captivated, and I couldn’t have gotten closer to her if I tried.