The Rutherford Series

I hate Mondays. Why can’t we just go straight from Sunday to Tuesday and forget this whole Monday concept? The alarm screamed at Faith Greer as she yanked the covers up over her head and attempted to stuff the excess into her ears. It didn’t help.

“Rise and shine, gorgeous.” Selby sat on the edge of the bed and strove to pull the covers from his wife’s head. “It’s a beautiful day, and you’re wasting the best part.”

“I thought being in bed was the best part.” She sighed as the covers disappeared. She hated morning people.

Selby only laughed as he set a hot cup of coffee on her nightstand. “Only if we’re having sex, and since we’re not, it’s time to get up.”

“I’ll let you fuck me if I can sleep through it.” She spread her legs and laid her arms out flat.

“You could sleep through me fucking you? I’m wounded.” Selby left the side of the bed and grabbed his shoes.

“I’m tired. Get over it. Pretend my snores are moans.” She kicked the covers back within arms’ reach and snuggled down. “I’ll even snore loudly.”

“Oh, no, no, no. Upsie daisy.” Selby walked back over and ripped the pillow from under her head. As she reached for it, she felt the covers being yanked away, as well.

She opened her eyes only enough to glare at him. “You, Selby Greer, are an evil man.”

His smile was better than morning coffee. “So you’ve told me.” He patted her tummy and then walked out of their bedroom, his shoes dangling from his fingers.

Faith couldn’t help but watch him leave, her eyes mesmerized by his faded Levi’s snug against his ass. His blond hair, even washed and combed, was a shaggy mess. He needed a haircut, and she knew he’d get one soon, because he hated the way it hung around his ears. Still, she loved that brief period where he let it go. It gave him a rugged, unkempt, beachy look, which she adored. It was during this period that the thin strands swished across the top of his shoulders, drawing her eyes to his casual but confidant stride. He was fit, with an athletic build but not that of a bodybuilder, which suited Faith just fine. She liked to lay her head on a firm chest, not a rock.

Selby turned the corner and was out of sight before Faith turned her gaze to the ceiling. Why couldn’t she be born rich so she could pay someone else to deal with Mondays? Oh well, she thought, nothing for it but to get this day started.

Faith forced herself out of the warm spot that had cradled her throughout the night. She turned the shower on to allow the water to heat up and then stared at herself with blurry vision in the mirror over their dual sinks. It was definitely a Monday. Her wheaten hair was all knotted and resembled the aftermath of a cat toy rather than her hair. She pulled down on her cheeks, examining her forest green eyes, for what she didn’t know. With a groan, she pulled her burgundy nightie over her head and tossed it onto the counter. Freckles dusted her slim body, her torso an hourglass shape she was proud of, and her breasts, while not huge by any means, were still pert and perky. She hadn’t always been so fit. When she met Selby, she was a pencil stick with hips. It didn’t help that at a quarter inch shy of five-ten she was only two inches shorter than he was. Heels were not her friends.

Steam billowed over the shower door, drawing her into the small stall where she allowed the scalding water to beat her pale skin. She hung her head under the pulsing jet and allowed it to massage her brain into wakefulness. She hated Mondays. The weekend was free and unstructured, and the two of them made the most of each moment. Mondays always seemed to give her separation anxiety, and she struggled those first few hours against feeling lost.

By the time Faith finished getting ready for work and downed that first cup of coffee, she came to life. Selby had packed her lunch and fixed her a cinnamon and raisin bagel with blueberry cream cheese, which waited for her as she emerged from the master bedroom into the kitchen. He took her Winnie the Pooh mug and refilled her coffee, adding two sugars and just a splash of cream. She might actually make it through the day.

Selby stood by the kitchen counter sipping coffee out of a mug with a giant picture of Grumpy on it. Besides his jeans and deck shoes, he wore a blue and yellow Hawaiian shirt. Casual. He owned his own used bookstore, so every day was casual Friday for her husband. She envied him. She worked in a construction office and had to have some sort of business casual attire, which to her point of view was the same as business dress up. There was nothing casual about it. Edwin Coldwell, her boss, wanted the girls at the office ready to meet a client at all times. While Faith didn’t really mind dressing up, she would have preferred jeans and a T-shirt.

“Want to trade places with me today,” Faith said, as she held her mug with both hands in front of her. “I’ll run the bookstore, and you can sit in an office with Cherish all day.” Spending the day with her younger sister had lost its appeal after the first week of working together, even if there were muscle-bound men to distract Faith at times.

He just smiled at her. “I really don’t think the guys would appreciate my ass as much as they do yours. Besides, I prefer the solitude of my shop. Workplace politics don’t get along with me too well. And it’s Monday, isn’t it?”

She gave him a quizzical look. “Meaning?”

“Cherish always calls out on Mondays according to you.”

Faith nodded as a slight laugh escaped her. “Very true, which means it’ll be quiet today. I can handle that.”

Selby placed his mug in the sink before leaning over and giving Faith a kiss on the forehead. “That’s my girl. And speaking of handling it, I need to get going. Have a great day, love.”

“Oh joy,” Faith said as she watched him scoop up his briefcase and the latest Terry Brooks novel. As the door to the garage shut, Faith took a deep breath. She might as well get the day underway.

As she crossed the Melbourne Causeway her phone dinged. Glancing at the text she read, Tracey wants to have dinner Wednesday night. She says she misses you. You up for it? Faith couldn’t help but smile knowing what Selby meant behind his “up for it”. Tracey owned Joe’s Bakery & Café across from his bookstore, and ever since he introduced the two women, he hoped for some girl-on-girl action between them. Tracey was a hot little redhead, but Faith had never crossed the girl-on-girl line and wasn’t sure she wanted to start. There were still so many other lines Selby and she were crossing.

Dinner, yes, she texted back and could picture his mischievous grin as he read it. Well, at least the dinner date would give her something to look forward to as she struggled through another Monday.

Before she knew it, Faith drove her Toyota pickup onto the grounds of the new Rutherford Construction, Inc. offices. They had recently moved the business from within the city to four acres west of I-95 on Eau Gallie Boulevard, one of the more isolated areas in Melbourne.

One of the major construction conglomerates in East and Central Florida, Rutherford Construction handled office buildings, hospitals, and million-dollar homes and even did some work for the major amusement parks that filled Orlando. The founder, Neal Rutherford, was a self-made man who started flipping houses in the ‘90s and then just kept stretching his reach until he was one of the most sought-after contractors in Florida. Rumor had it he was even putting his fingers into projects in Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi.

Faith only met Neal once at a Christmas party three months back. He was a powerful-looking man, still in perfect shape at fifty-two, with short salt and pepper hair and a trimmed mustache to match. He caught the eye of every girl in the office, all four of them.

She parked her small pickup on the side of the building, snatched up her purse, and headed for the front door. The morning sun brought a smile to her face as it warmed her hair, contrasting with the breeze that cooled her face. Neal wanted the Brevard offices close to the interstate since their jobs were located in so many different locations. Of course, some of the bigger locations had a trailer on site for immediate needs, but the bulk of the operation was housed on this small four acres of land practically in the middle of nowhere. It housed two buildings, the offices, and a warehouse, and had plenty of room for trucks and materials. Eau Gallie Boulevard dead ended into the St. Johns River, and air boats and lovers in parked cars crowded the area, but it was otherwise pretty quiet. There was an animal shelter, a giant flea market, a Park & Ride parking lot that always seemed to be empty, and the new Fire and Rescue Training School. Otherwise, it was a gravel road surrounded by palm fronds and alligators. It was peaceful, even if a little scary at night.

Most of the men were getting the materials they needed for that particular day’s assignment loaded into their trucks and ready to go. Some were still arriving, however, and honked at Faith as she walked to the main doors. She turned, waved, and then sashayed her ass into the office. Forget sexual harassment. She wanted men to flirt with her, whistling at her to show their appreciation of her attributes, and working with construction workers definitely boosted a girl’s self-esteem. It turned her on for them to want what they couldn’t have.

With a smile at the wetness between her legs from the attention, Faith pulled open the door to Rutherford Construction and entered her day.