Free Cherry Bomb by JW Phillips Page B

soon-to-be ex,
said as he helped our youngest son out of the car at Touchdown
Wings. It was our two son’s favorite hang-out, and I thought it
would be a pleasant place to have James drop them off from their
weekend visit from his house. I should have known that James would
have to get in one of his many sly remarks. I handed Noah, our
eight-year-old, a five-dollar bill, and motioned for him to take
Henry, our five-year-old, in to play video games, not wanting them
to see another showdown between their mom and dad.
    “And you wonder why our daughter goes to a
friend's house instead of staying at yours,” I replied.
    The heat that radiated from within burned my
eyes and blurred my vision. James had shattered me. For a brief
moment, I was not sure if I would be able to go on farther with my
life. I had sacrificed everything to please him. But nothing I ever
did was good enough. Even now as I tried to move on, he found fault
with my every movement. I would never regret my marriage to him,
however, it gave me my three greatest blessings. My
fourteen-year-old daughter, Ruby, and two sons. But it would not
hurt my feelings if I never had to see him again.
    “Can you at least one time drop off the boys
without attacking their mom?”
    “No, she doesn’t have a problem taking my
money or my daughter away from me. So she can learn to listen to
the crap she gives out.”
    “Ruby chose to be with friends this weekend.
I had nothing to do with it." Or the fact, she would rather chew
nails than to ever see you again. " As far as your money . . .”
I threw up my arms in disgust, turned around, and flew through the
doors of the restaurant, feeling the tears well up in my eyes. I
almost fell backwards when James snagged a fistful of the shirt I
was wearing.
    “I’m not through talking,” he said, a
half-furious, half-stupid look in his eyes.
    “I am,” I snapped, and flattened out my shirt
when he finally released me. “I have two boys waiting on me.”
    I tried to walk away, but James stopped me by
forcibly gripping my arm.
    “Let me go. You’re the one who fucked up,” I
said and finally jerked loose from his grasp. I was reeling at his
audacity when James abruptly halted his step, his eyes roamed to
the table where Henry and Noah were already sitting at a booth with
. . . Drake Hart.
    It had been two months since we had spent the
night together and six weeks since he had tried to call, and still
I had not been able to get him out of my head. Every night, I went
to bed dreaming of his piercing blue eyes and how they looked as he
rammed his cock in me. For a moment, I was positive I was
hallucinating. But it was no illusion, there he was, sitting across
from both my sons, smiling as if they held all the fascination of
the world in them.
    “It looks like you have company, whore,”
James said before leaving.
    I had no will to care what James said or
thought. My walk slowed to almost a crawl as I took in the scene in
front of me. Drake Hart and my boys.
    Drake looked almost edible in a soft pink
button-down shirt and a faded pair of jeans. I could almost picture
the way they hugged his hips when he stood. Get your mind out of
the gutter. Your biggest mistake is talking to your kids.
    I paused when a young, auburn hair beauty
walked up to the booth they were sitting at. Didn’t he say his
favorite color of hair was red? Red brushed her fingers repeatedly
through her hair and shifted her weight from one foot to the other,
making sure her hip would rub against Drake’s arm.
    “Your son looks just like his dad. A
heartbreaker,” Red said with an annoying giggle, and leaned over to
give Drake an eyeful of her fake rack.
    Drake spotted me, and the smile that broke
out over his face was heart-stopping.
    “Cherry.” His speech softened as his tongue
caressed over each letter of my name, causing a wave of lust to
course through me but I had to fight it. My sons were about to
witness a scene I was not ready for. I walked up to