Tap Out (Reaper's Den Book One) - Nikki Mays
Danny
After years and years of rigorous training and putting my body through the wringer daily, I never thought that I would get so excited to do it once I retired. But here I am, sitting in my office on the top floor of my gym, Reaper’s Den, staring miserably out the window overlooking the main area at everyone else getting to workout.
Granted, it’s probably not the working out that I miss as much as I hate sitting in one place and doing paperwork.
Seriously, why the hell is there so much fucking paperwork for a gym? And why do I need a permit for just fucking breathing around here?
Okay fine, I don’t need a permit for that, but you need one for everything else in the world. And you have to make sure to keep all licenses up to date or you’re screwed. And don’t even get me started on the Department of Health that seems to harass me nonstop since we opened up the snack and juice bar. I swear to Christ, those people are bigger vultures than the IRS. Just waiting to fine me for every small infraction. And that’s saying something considering the IRS practically salivates over my finances.
I scrub my hand across my chin that is at least two days past needing a shave and sigh.
Becca is right, I am turning into a grumpy old man. Although, I probably shouldn’t put too much stock in what my seventeen year old daughter says, especially since I was in the process of telling her that there was no way in hell that her, her twin sister Missy, and their step-sister Paige could stay out until one in the morning. To say that they weren’t happy with me is an understatement. I was on the receiving end of matching glares for over a month. At least JJ, my ex and best friend Sage’s husband, was right there with me. It’s always easier to deal with hormonal tantrums when you have a buddy.
Speaking of the mother of my children and business partner, she’s currently standing in my doorway giving me a pissy look. I’m sure that it has nothing to do with the fact that I shoved an annoying fight promoter off on her.
“You’re such an asshole.” She grumbles as she walks in and takes a seat in one of the two empty chairs in front of my desk. “That guy wouldn’t stop talking no matter how many blatant hints I dropped.”
I give her my charming smile that has worked to drop a lot of panties in my younger days. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work on her if the narrowing of her eyes is anything to go by. “You said that you were bored earlier. I figured that I would help you out.” I shrug innocently. Well as innocently as someone who is 6’3, 250lbs of muscle, and covered in tattoos can look.
“You realize that the girls are almost eighteen, right?” She asks calmly, too calmly.
I can feel my cheek twitch, but I make sure to keep all other facial expressions bland. “I’m aware of how old they are.”
She leans back in the chair and crosses her legs. “Then you know that I don’t exactly need to keep you around for child support payments anymore. One false move and you could be having an accident Danny Boy.” She smiles creepily at me.
Anyone overhearing our conversation would probably think that there is something seriously wrong with the two of us. Which I’m sure there is, but us hating each other has never been one of those things. Truthfully, she’s one of the only people that I fully trust in this world. Sage, the girls, JJ, my parents, her parents, and Stacey all have my trust. Even if a certain nurse is currently not returning my phone calls and is pretending that we don’t know each other.
“What’s that face for?” Her eyes roam over my face as she frowns. “You never care when I threaten to kill you.”
“I’m not making any sort of a face. Maybe I just really am starting to get annoyed with you threatening to kill me.” I lie. I couldn’t care less. I know damn well that she would give me a kidney if I needed it. It just makes her feel better to think that she’s keeping me in check somehow. Although, I’m pretty sure that her homicidal thoughts were more fantasies when I was away all the time, and she was dealing with the girls during their terrible twos,