Free My Real by Mallory Grant Page A

snidely.
    “I’m not sure how that’s any of your business. Let me repeat. What are you doing here?” I ask again getting a little more angry at his attitude.
    “I came to get my golf clubs out of the basement. Honestly, are you dating her?” he asks again with an amused look on his face.
    My hands are fisted at my sides. This asshole is going to pay if he doesn’t watch himself.
    “Let me give you some friendly advice. She’s as cold as a wet blanket. Run while you still can. Divorcing her was the best damn decision I’ve ever made.”
    That’s it. I stalk toward him in two steps while drawing my fist back and let it land directly on his left eye. He falls to the ground at the unexpected contact. I kneel down next to him and grab his shirt to pull him up to my face.
    “Let me explain something to you. You are never to step foot on this property again. You’re going to leave Bailey alone. If I ever hear you say something like that to anyone, I will personally make sure you have a bruised kidney to match your eye. Do you understand me asshole?”
    He shoves my hands away and stands up brushing off his pants. “What the Hell is your problem?”
    “I’ve heard the stories about the way you treated Bailey. I’m just letting you know that it’s done. You will never hurt her again,” I answer making sure he clearly understands the point I’m making.
    “Whatever man, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he answers over his shoulder as he walks back to his car.
    I sit on Bailey’s front step for a few minutes waiting for my heart rate to go down.
     

     
    The bell rings. He’s early. I look down at the white terry cloth robe I have wrapped around me with only my matching red lace lingerie under it.
    Crap.
    I walk down the stairs and open the door for Andrew.
    “Jeezus Bailey. What’re you doing to me?” Andrew asks as he walks in, wraps his arms around me, and pulls me in for a kiss. I can feel him start to untie the robe, then he puts his hands on my bare skin.
    “We are going to be late for our dinner reservations if I don’t go get dressed now,” I remind him.
    “I can think of other things to do instead of going out to eat,” he teases.
    I step away from him, debating my options. I give Andrew a sly smile and turn to go upstairs. I can hear that he is following a few steps behind me. I step up to my closet and pull out a pair of jeans, since that was what Andrew was wearing, and a baby doll T-shirt. Andrew is standing in the doorway, so I decide to put on a little show. I take a deep breath for courage and drop the bathrobe to the floor at my feet and glance over my shoulder.
    Andrew’s hands are on the doorjamb and his knuckles are turning white, but he doesn’t move from his spot. He is just there to watch me dress.
    That is so hot.
    I bend at my hips, step into my jeans, and very slowly pull them up until they are just over my bottom. I turn to face him and cock my hip to the side. He has one hand on his hardness. I take the black t-shirt and put it on my arms and lift them both over my head so the shirt slides down slowly into place. After adding a scarf, I step into my sandals while zipping my jeans, grab my sweater, and give Andrew a huge smile.
    “I’m ready.”

 
     
     
    I made a reservation at Anthony’s, a fancy Italian restaurant for dinner. The hostess seats us at our table in the back. Then, the waiter takes our drink order. I watch Bailey as she looks at the menu. This is just too good to be true. She has her hair in a low ponytail, and it is falling over her shoulders. She is just so damn beautiful.
    “This is nice. I’ve never been here,” Bailey says as she looks around. Her eyes stop on me, and she starts to say something and stops.
    “Bailey, you can ask me anything. I know you have questions,” I take her hand.
    “I don’t want to be nosy.”
    “It’s not being nosy. You have every right to know what happened at my lawyer’s today. I don’t want there to be any