Free You Dropped a Blonde on Me by Dakota Cassidy

When he became this confrontational, it was time to step in. She’d done it all of her adult life on his behalf.
    Some habits died hard, slow, agonizing deaths.
    Wonder of wonders, her vocal cords decided they’d cut her some slack, and her response to Finley’s question flew from her lips like a bullet from a gun. “He’s my boyfriend.”
    Niiice.
    Superfly, Maxine.

CHAPTER FOUR
     
    Note from Maxine Cambridge to all ex-trophy wives on sucking it up: When attempting to put on airs for your soon to be ex-husband, quite possibly one should do so when not in a dingy gray sweat suit, holding a Ziploc bag full of dog poo. It carries just a wee bit less in the way of impact. Okay. It carries a lot less . In fact, it’s unseemly. In other words, don’t let your douche-bag husband see you sweat. Wear deodorant at all times.
     
    “So look who’s got a boy toy,” Finley taunted, cocking a silvery eyebrow in a manner that dripped with lewd suggestion. The sly innuendo that Campbell was nothing more than a man-whore irked her. Alas, because he was a douche bag, it was only natural he’d assume everyone else was, too.
    Maxine cringed, clenching her teeth, wishing she had the clangers to hurl Jake’s poop at him and watch it slide down the front of his immaculate suit.
    Campbell crossed his brawny arms over his torso, puffing his chest out, too. The nice thing about it was, his chest puffed farther than Fin’s. “I think it was a good move on Max’s part. You got Preteen Barbie , and she got me, and while I’m not a preteen, I’m definitely not sixty .”
    Score!
    As quickly as she inwardly cheered Campbell calling Fin out, she winced. Oh, sweet Jesus. Fin was going to run him over with his big fancy car. Her heart crashed, but she wasn’t sure if it was because she was afraid the two men were going to come to blows, or because Campbell had defended her.
    A tingle in her stomach began with a small clench and blossomed into a fistful of butterflies, taking flight in her gullet.
    Okay, okay. It was because Campbell had defended her. Duly noted.
    Finley’s foot scraped the pavement when he rounded on them, jamming his hands into the pockets of his expensive trousers. “And what do you know about our affairs?”
    Campbell gave him a distinct look of disinterest, shrugging his shoulders with indifference. “I don’t know anything about Max’s affairs. I just know about your affair,” he drawled with lazy syllables, moving his body in slow increments in order to fully cover Maxine’s. “Or was it affairs, as in multiples, honey?” he asked over his shoulder.
    Christ on a crapper. He’d gone there . Without any help from her. How had he known where there was? God, if he knew, she’d never be able to look him in the eye again.
    But that was okay. Who needed to look in his dreamy blue eyes?
    He had a nice chest.
    This had to stop before Campbell took Finley out. Stepping around Campbell, Maxine put a hand up, but she couldn’t make her eyes meet her ex-husband’s. They ended up fixating on the crisp collar of his shirt. “Look, Finley, what I do or who I do it with is none of your business anymore. This is about our son, and I don’t know if Connor will see you or not. In fact, I doubt it, but the judge did make it clear you had to call first if you wanted to see him, and I don’t remember getting a message that your receptionist called on your behalf.” So, hah. Hah, shit. That was weak, weak, weak, Maxine.
    Finley’s lips rippled his displeasure. “If you and your hag of a mother would stop filling his head with lies, there’d be no question about whether he wants to see me or not!” he shouted.
    Jake wiggled his back end, lowering the upper half of his long, lumbering body to display his discontent. A drop of saliva fell from the corner of his big, slobbery mouth. Campbell gave him a tug upward, pulling Jake behind him until he completely shielded Maxine from Finley. “I can’t believe you blame a cute