Sleeping With My Married Ex

Chapter 12

Donovan's captain is having a barbecue today and Donovan has invited me. That's nice of him. He was always a nice guy. But I'm starting to wonder if he's a smart guy. Seriously. Who throws cook outs at 12pm on a Saturday...in June? It's going to be hot as hell, and early, and humid, and full of insects because it's at a park close to Sinclair manor.

I'm torn between what to wear. I want to wear pants to protect myself from the insects. They love my blood, because no matter where I go, how much repellent I wear, bugs leave all sorts of marks on me. It's just too hot to even consider wearing pants of any variety. In the end I settle for shorts and my chiffon blouse. The sleeves are long, but the shirt is thin. If my legs are snacked on, at least my arms will be safe. I slip into some sandals and grab my bag. I told Donovan I would meet him at Anthony's house at 12pm. I have a few errands I need to run this morning before I go anywhere.  I slip out the door, lock it, and scurry down to the elevator.

I drive 15 minutes out of the city and park in front of a two story town house where I need to pick up some papers. When the door is open, I smirk at the naked chest man who answers. "Should I come back at a better time?"

Warren steps aside and let me in. "Shut up."
"You don't have company do you?" There wasn't an extra car in the drive way, but that doesn't mean Amber isn't here. Should could have hitched a ride with him, seeings as how fast the two have progressed in the last month. Warren would find me during lunch hours some days and we'll talk. Usually I try to keep the topic on him and Amber, but he's tight lipped and knows how to drive the conversation right back to me. I haven't told him that I've slept, have been sleeping with Donovan for a month now, but I think he knows.

"No. Not yet. I was just about to shower."
"So I'll make this fast and get out of your hair."
Warren walks down the hall to the kitchen, I follow behind. "You don't have to rush. Grab something to eat, I know you haven't already."
I roll my eyes and sit on the stool at the kitchen island. "No thanks. I'm going to a cookout in about an hour."
"With your tosser."
"He's not a tosser...and if he is, he has no reason to be anymore." I grin cheekily. There. Finally. I admitted it.

Warren pulls out a carton of juice and two glasses. "Why doesn't he take his wife."
I shrug and take the glass of juice he pours for me. "I don't know why he does what he does nor do I care why he does what he does unless what he does concerns me." I sip, savoring the taste. Gosh, I love orange juice. It has to be the best thing created...ever! "Only then do I question him. Now can I have my papers, please so I can sign them and go before Amber gets here and goes Obsessed on my ass."

He disappears down the hall to his office, but I notice the smile on his face when I mention his girlfriend. I'm glad he's happy with her. I like Amber. We've spent a lot of time together over the last few months. She's still as sassy as ever and evil eyes anyone who even breaths Warren's name, and yeah, she still threatens me about my friendship with Warren, but I know how to pay her back. I'll just give Warren a chaste, innocent, harmless kiss while she is around and watch her explode.

Warren comes back with a manila folder which he places in front of me. I wave him away and tell him to shower before loosing myself into the papers inside for the next forty minutes. I skim through the pages putting them in two piles. Keep and Pass, with more of the papers falling into the Pass pile.

I look up when someone taps my  shoulder. I look behind me. "Hi Amber," I say.
"Hey Shannon." She sits next to me and flickers through my pile. "I like this," she says. I glance at what paper she's holding up and agree.
"What time are you and the tosser going to the cookout?" Warren asks when he walks back into the kitchen clean and dressed. He doesn't say anything to Amber and I figure they've already done their greetings when he opened the door.
"Twelve," I reply, ignoring the tosser reference.
"Where is it?"
"Somewhere out Owings Mills."
"You better get going then, babe. That's on the other side." I glance at the clock hanging on the wall and jump up. Who knew time could fly so fast. Scraping the papers together, the Keep pile, I stuff them into the folder. I am suppose to meet Donovan in 10 minutes and I'm at least 35 minutes away. Punctuality is important to me. I don't like being late. Actually, I feel like crap whenever I'm late. I pull out my cell phone and call Donovan.

"Hi Shannon," he answers.
"Hey Donny. I'm running late. I'll be there by 12:30, okay?"
"Okay. Are you alright?" That's how rare it is for me to arrive anywhere late. Whenever I am, someone always thinks something bad has happened.
"I'm fine. Just got distracted with work, but I'll be there soon."
"Okay. Take you time. No rush."
"Bye bye." I hang up. Tucking the folder under my arm, I grab my purse. "I'll bring these back when I decide."
"Late for your date?" Amber asks.
"Yep," was the last word I said before I dashed out the house to my car.


"Sorry," I say to Donovan as I exit my car and walk into his arms for a quick hug and kiss. I pull away and run my tongue quickly over my lips. He still taste of smores.
"Will you be hot in that shirt?"
I shake my head. "No. It's cooling." I look around the driveway.
He motions to his car. The door unlocks, I hop in the passenger seat.
The ride isn't long. Maybe a little under ten minutes for Sinclair manor to the park. He drives deep into the park, telling me it is somewhere in the back where one of the large tent things is. He parks the Ford along the road and we walk the rest of the way to the tent thing. There's a small stream we cross, not wide or deep, more like a trickle of water, with a foot bridge over it.

"Ew. Get off. Don't walk across my bridge." Stephan stands a little distance away where he and a group of boys are playing with a ball.

"Shut up," Donovan says.
"What are you a troll?" I say. "Do I look like a billy goat?"

Donovan chuckles and takes my hand into his. I see some of the people who are scattered around looking at us, and for the first time in two months I wonder what the hell am I doing with him. The man his married for heavens sake.It doesn't matter how horrible the marriage is. That doesn't change it, make it better. However, when the two of us are together, his marriage is the further thing from either of our mines. Even when his brothers or Stephan are around, his marriage isn't a topic we discuss. It's not like we try to avoid it, it's just not important. He's with me and that's all I care about.

Now, with questioning eyes on me, I wonder if it's all I should care about. I can see the quizzing looks and I know what people are thinking. Who is that girl with him? That's not his wife. I don't even want to think of some of the things some of those looks mean.

Suddenly I feel so confused. I want to bury my head in the sand and reevaluate what I'm doing. Am I being to analytical? I like him. He likes me. I really like him, but is that enough for me? I look around again. Questioning looks aren't all I see anymore. Some of the expressions have changed from ponder to wonder. I can feel myself rolling my eyes and stop. Donovan will always be Donovan, I guess. Some  things will never change.

"I see you brought your battle armor with you." Stephan says and throws the football for the children to run and catch. "Bridget has been asking about you since she got here thirty minutes ago."
"What's your point?" Donovan says.
"You know the point. She planned to corner you, drag you into the tress-"
"Where her body will remain," I cut in.
Donovan looked down at me, his lips curled.
"What?" I feign innocence. "I don't share well. At all."
"But he's married." Stephan points.
"Well, that's not sharing is it." Not a question but a statement.

Donovan pulls me aways and over to the playground where his brothers and Toya are. Toya hugs me on sight. We spend a few minutes catching up, Toya telling me about some of the people from our old neighborhood when she last saw them, and me telling her I couldn't care less about some of the people from our old neighborhood since I last saw them.

"Donovan never mentioned that you lived next door to him. I had to find out from Anthony."
"He's never been the talkative one." She tells me about her two sons, who barely remember me since they were very young when I once knew them, until we're interrupted by a few fighters whom I met during my lecture.

The fighters, (I love calling them that), are extremely close. The way they talk, joke, and play around has more of a sibling relationship than coworkers, and no matter how much Donny seems to threaten them, they don't slack off...completely. Some of the wives tease Donovan. Some of them even talk to me. They like me much better than that bitch -their words, not mine- even if they don't know me. "Excuse me," I say to the wives. I don't belong in this circle, not that I'm upset about that or anything. Just a bit uncomfortable. I mosey back over to where Donovan stands with his brothers.