Anxiety crawled up Zoe’s throat. “Hello,” was all that came out.
Her mom offered a quick nod and stepped around them and into the diner.
Zoe released a deep sigh and felt dizzy as she exited the building.
“Who was that?” Tiffany asked a few steps away from the car.
Zoe yanked open the door. “My mother.”
The lights of Sheryl’s car shone into the windows as she pulled it into the drive.
“’Bout fucking time,” Ziggy muttered to himself.
His hand was already adjusting his jeans to make room. He’d made Zanya go to her room with her baby hours ago. The smell of diapers never did anything for him. And Zane was due back before midnight.
A little noise, a nice toss in bed, and he’d be ready for something to eat.
Sheryl stepped inside without a whole lot of sound.
“Hey, sugar.”
She must not have seen him sitting there, because she jumped, and her hand went to her throat.
“What’s wrong, you forgot I’m back already?”
She shook her head, looked around the room. “Didn’t want to wake you if you were asleep.”
He picked himself up off the couch and made his way to her side.
She smelled like hamburgers and greasy fries. He caged her hips in his hands and ground his groin into hers. “Now you know I can’t sleep all pent up.” He pushed in closer. “Look what you do to me, sugar.” He nuzzled her neck and she tried to pull away.
He didn’t let her go far, but looked at her face for the first time since she’d walked in the door.
The black shit she put on her eyes ran in streaks down her cheeks. “Why are you crying?” Who was screwing up his night?
“I’m fine. A little tired.” She tried to pull away again.
His cock protested. He had one thing he looked forward to, and her tears were not going to stop him from getting it.
“Fine, then. Let me help you out of those jeans.” His hand was already in her waistband.
“Ziggy, please. I’m tired. It’s been a long day.” She twisted away and ducked out from under his touch.
The muscles on his arms flexed, but he kept his finger loose. “Long day? You’ve had a long day?”
Sheryl had the good mind to hesitate. “Yeah.” She moved into the kitchen, set her purse on the counter next to the dirty dishes. “Zoe’s in town.”
“So this is about that prissy daughter of yours.”
“Ours.”
He rubbed the side of his groin to keep the anger from affecting his abilities. “You raised her.”
Sheryl mumbled something and turned away.
“You have something to say?” His voice rose above the noise of the television.
“I—I said I’d make you something to eat.”
Ziggy forced his teeth not to sink into each other and slowly followed her into the kitchen. “Is that what you said?”
Sheryl turned her back on him. Her bony ass pushed out when she opened the refrigerator and reached for a gallon of milk.
He grasped her elbow and put just enough pressure to keep her from picking crap from the fridge. “I don’t think that’s what you said. Would you like to try again?”
The fear in her face when she looked at him now was a much better image than a moment before.
“Let me cook you dinner.”
“I don’t want dinner.” He pushed her against the counter, made sure she knew exactly what he was going to get before he ate. “And you need to stop lying. You know how I feel about lying.”
She lowered her head. “I’m sorry. It’s a hard day is all. I’m tired.”
“Hard?” He pushed a knee between her legs. “I’ll tell you what’s hard. Seventeen years with only your hand to fuck, and then when you get out, have your woman telling you she’s tired.”
A squeak behind them had Sheryl looking beyond his shoulder.
“It’s okay, Zanya. Go back to bed.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Ziggy noticed that Zanya didn’t move.
“You heard your mother!” He didn’t hold his voice down.
“Mom?”
He twisted around and Sheryl grabbed his hips. “Go on now, Zanya.”
Ziggy lifted his lips when Zanya turned away.
“Now, let’s talk about how tired you are.” He pushed a hand into Sheryl’s pants, and this time she didn’t push him away.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”
Luke passed Mel on the porch en route to the kitchen.
“That bad?”
“She’s yelling at Felix.”
Luke paused, waiting for the bad part. “And?”
“That’s her director.”
Luke lowered his sunglasses and winked. “I think I’m safe.”
Mel went back to the magazine in her lap. “It’s your skin she’ll chomp on.”
He laughed. “I kinda like it when she chomps on my skin.”
“Men!” was all Mel said as he walked into the inn and straight to where all the noise came from.
The smell of something sinfully sweet mixed with bright lights and more people shoved into Miss Gina’s kitchen than Luke had ever seen.
“Oh, thank God. Luke, tell her she’s gorgeous.” Felix nearly jumped on Luke the second he peeked his head around the corner.
“He has to say that, I’m sleeping with him.” Zoe glanced around September, who was putting powder on her face.