Page 3 of Do It Yourself
The employees all jeer and tease me as I make myself a plate. “Oh hush. You’re all just jealous.” I call over my shoulder, scooping an extra helping of pasta salad onto my plate. This stuff was like crack.
The jeers die down, no one denying they wouldn’t bend over backwards for Mama D’s love and affection. She was a mother to all, demanding we call her Mama Donna and refusing to answer to any other name.
Mama D’s sweet laugh fills the room. “Dig in, you’ve all been working too hard today.” She said that every day. That woman was a saint.
Too soon, I’m on my way out of the Big House, heading out to a meeting with Lola when I hear Mama D calling my name. “I wanted to make sure you’re still coming tomorrow night?” I try to hold in my scowl. I know Mama D thinks of me as part of the family but it feels like crossing a boundary to actually join the monthly Warren family dinner.
Especially when fifty percent of the Warren children seem to hate my very existence.
I run my fingers through my hair, a shoddy attempt to give myself some time to think of an excuse, before pulling the ball cap out of my back pocket and tugging it on.
“Listen, I don’t kn—” Mama D cuts me off with a pointer finger in my face.
“You can’t say no. You’re gonna deny this old woman and miss out on my special announcement?” Lord.
I really can’t say no to this woman.
I huff out a breath. “Of course, I’ll be there.”
We chat for a minute or two more before I excuse myself, Mama D making me promise again to come to family dinner tomorrow night.
Chapter Two
MABEL
Do you know how annoying it is to be anxious and horny at the same time? If you’ve never experienced it, let me tell you, it’s the WORST . I could feel a panic attack brewing under my skin and had planned to stop by my workshop to get some alone time but the bane of my existence decided to prowl by while I was trying to center myself with some deep breaths.
Backwards ball cap with dark blond hair poking out the ends, dark blue t-shirt pulled tight across the widest chest I’d ever seen, ass that filled out their jeans so good it should be illegal.
Jude Daniels was a wet dream personified and enemy number one.
He’d fucked over my little brother somehow a few years ago and should be considered dead to me. No, hewasdead to me but seeing as he’s my sister’s right hand man it was hard to keep him buried under familial righteousness and contempt.
It had been easy to ignore him when I was getting it on the regular but Kayce, my ex, broke up with me about fifteen months ago. Now my needy pussy had decided it wanted to hop on the Jude Daniels express train and ride it off the rails.
Which would never happen.
Never ever.
I just wish my lady bits would get the damn memo.
I’d tried a few times to provide her with more suitable offerings but she wasn’t interested in anyone but him and it was annoying as hell. I’d given up on anything except my silicone boyfriends at this point in my life.
It was fine. It gave me more time to focus on helping out my family.
My partner-in-crime and baby brother, Paul, had decided to take a step back from our love ‘em and leave ‘em lifestyle once he found out he was going to be a father, combined with my previous semi-serious relationship, kept us from going out on the prowl together. Which was advantageous because it meant I could keep my disinterest in anyone except enemy number one classified.
I don’t lie to my family but I could never let Paul know about my between the legs feelings for Jude.
In our adult life, I’d only seen Paul cry three times. When Anika, ex-best friend and baby mama had cut off their friendship, when their son Henry was born and when Lola announced she was promoting Jude to help her run our family farm.
He still refuses to tell me why he had such an intense reaction but I don’t care.
Seeing Paul like that shook me to my core.
After I had gotten him to sleep that night, I drew myself a bath and soaked until the water turned cold. Hugging my knees and letting the feeling of helplessness wash over me wave after wave. I hadn’t felt that helpless in years. The last, and only other, time was when I had gotten into such a big fight with my father and moved off the Farm, refusing to speak with him for years.
Obviously, I moved home but our relationship was never the same.
