Authors: Jeanette Lynn
Lifting my arms, I gave my hands a little clap and then thought better of it, but it was already too late.
Oh, bleck. I so need a shower,
I thought, a little out of left field, closing my arms as I caught a whiff of myself.
I got up to make my way to the bathroom, ready to wash up quickly and then crash on the bed for a few hours.
But no matter how hard I tried to let everything go, my mind kept wandering back to Bowen’s quick ‘sure’ about getting a new fill in, and then everything else.
If those men think they can just borrow me until Aunt Ruthie comes back and shaft me on hiring someone else, then I'll just go find a damn replacement for me myself.
How hard could it be?
Besides... if I have things my way, Ruthie will move in with me, quit working for the Harrisons and let me finally take care of her.
Like she deserves, like I've been planning for years.
She deserves some peace and quiet, peace of mind.
A little slice of heaven for herself. Just for her.
It would be just us, two gals living it up.
And I plan to help make it happen.
Let her enjoy it.
If things keep going the way that they are with my graphic design business, my steady influx of customers signing up, so to speak, for one of my custom signs, designs and logos, letting me really get a leg up lately, then I might even be able to afford us taking a little mini vacation or something in the near future, take her somewhere nice.
I thought of all the things my Aunt's done for me over the years and my heart squeezed at the thought of her surgery, the helplessness I feel about it.
I can’t do a damn thing to help her when she needs it most. Nothing but just being there for her,
and I sure as shit will.
I’ll be the most supportive, caring, helping, whatever-you-call-it person that you ever saw!
I let out a deep breath and unclenched my jaw when I realized I was grinding it, turning my poor molars into tooth powder.
She's going to be okay. She'll be alright
, I promised myself, trying to self soothe, but my nerves still wouldn't let up.
Walking slowly into the bathroom, I started the shower and trudged back into the bedroom, snagging the strap of my duffel to drag it along behind me.
Wash, sleep, make dinner, then worry
, I decided, insisting I force myself to comply as I closed the bathroom door behind me.
Now if only my brain would follow my train of thought and worry last,
I thought on a sigh.
I woke up when I felt something tickling my nose and forehead.
Sleepily, I batted at it and my hand smacked into something hard and warm.
My eyes popped open and I screamed, startled when I realized someone was in my room with me.
I swung, not really thinking about it, and slugged my intruder.
"Shit!" the face tickler shouted, and I froze.
I'm not at home?
I glanced around the room frantically, taking in all of Aunt Ruthie’s things.
Oh, crap!
That's right!
I'm at the Harrison's filling in for Aunt Ruthie.
My tickler groaned and I recognized the voice.
Didn’t I lock that door?
"Thatcher?" I asked groggily and tried to get my eyes to adjust.
I pushed my hair away from my face and rubbed at my lids.
Thatcher clutched his face and flopped backwards onto my bed, smashing my legs in the process.
"What's going on?!" Ephraim shouted, running into the room, startled by my screaming.
He scowled when he saw Thatcher groaning piteously on the bed, nose clutched tightly in his cupped palms.
He took in my shocked expression and stormed over to his downed brother.
"What the hell did you do?" he growled, taking me a little aback by his defense of me.
"I didn't do nothin'! I came in here to wake her up and see if she was ready to fix dinner yet.
Don't look at me like that!
I'm starving here! But then
she
punched
me
in the face," Thatcher groaned accusingly in a nasally voice.
I tried not to grin at that and lost, giggling when Thatcher continued to explain himself in the higher, pinched, secretary voice he'd adopted.
By the time he was done, I was in stitches and Ephraim was chuckling as he shook his head at me.
"What's going on in here?" Sawyer asked curiously as he peered into the room.
He quirked a brow up when he took us all in.
Ephraim was smirking at Thatcher as the whining blonde nut lamented his poor nose, my legs held captive beneath him, and then there was me, cackling like a hyena at them both.
Okay, I'll admit, maybe the next however long won't be so bad after all.
At least I know it will
definitely
be entertaining.
Three whole weeks passed in constructive chaos and the guys and I got into a comfortable routine of sorts.
I finally got the hang of their crazy early morning schedules and figured out what chores worked at what time of the day best.
I also made sure to make enough food at each meal for a small army.
Good grief, can they eat!
They really weren't slobs or sloppy like I'd originally worried they would be, and Bowen bordered on the obsessive compulsive with some of his own cleaning habits, so there really wasn't too much to worry about at all on that front.
I’ve even found free time to myself, aside from the two days off I have, to boot.
It had been a particularly long day today, since the dryer had decide to kick the bucket earlier this morning and I'd spent most of my time hanging up lines to dry the wash on.
Looks like I'm hanging out the laundry to dry for however long
, I thought as I made my way to the kitchen for a late night glass of milk, dreading the coming morning.
Laundry had never seemed so nefarious to me before until the dryer went caput.
Now I'm hoping, by some miracle, that there's a laundry fairy out there that will hear my plea and magically come fix it.
Hah! That would be the day.
Milk in hand now, I sipped it thoughtfully, leaning over the sink, watching the rain as it pitter pattered over the windows, the cadence lulling me a little as it tapped a soft dance especially for me.
The front door rattled suddenly, and I poked my head around the corner, having a look around, positive that I must be hearing noises or something.
It’s raining, could be anything.
Someone cursed from the front porch, and my eyes widened alarmingly.
What on earth...
I quietly set my glass down and made my way to the sliding glass door, right where I'd left the rug beater I'd been using earlier.
Picking it up, I gripped it in my hands and debated on whether or not I would have enough time to run to one of the guys’ rooms and wake them up.
The front door rattled some more and opened, pinning me on the spot.
All the lights were off in the kitchen, so I waited with bated breath for the intruder to give me a clear shot.
God! Why couldn't they have put a house phone in the kitchen too?!
Would have been real handy right about now.
Yes, Vieve, you could call 911, then beat him or her with the phone until help arrives.
I could go with plan b and scream bloody murder right now...?
But what if they have a weapon and a sneaky ninja attack would work better?
Eek! Think, Vieve, think!
The burglar yanked off his soaked jacket, tossing it onto the porch, and I watched, transfixed.
It was definitely a 'he' if his masculine build and manly grunts meant anything.
He unbuckled his pants and yanked them down his thighs, cussing up a storm as they stuck to him, molding wetly to his firm body.
"What the fuck kind of burglar are you?" I barked, blurting out in both my surprise and distress.
The man looked up sharply and tried to squint into the darkness, toeing off his boots.
Well... he was
trying
to take off his boots, anyways.
Very unsuccessfully, if I do say so myself.
I couldn't make out much of him, other than a general outline, but I could see an angry stance when I’ve witnessed one.
"Who the hell are you?" the man barked back gruffly, freezing to his spot when he heard me shift closer.
"Just pull your god damn pants back up,
pervert
, and get out. Nobody gets hurt. Ya got me, asshole?"
"Pervert?!" he shouted at me belligerently, "Asshole?"
"Don't move! I'm armed!" I bluffed.
He bent at the knees like he was going to lunge at me, but I pounced first.
Eat or be eaten, I say!
It's now or never, Vieve!
I raised the rug beater high and charged him, letting out an amazon warrior worthy battle cry as I ran at him.
"Ah, fuck!" he cried out when I beaned him over the head with my weapon of choice, whacking him everywhere I could reach as I swung it at him madly like a baseball bat.
Babe Ruth eat your heart out!
I crowed inwardly as I got in a few good whacks.
Take that!
And that!
And that!
Hah!
I screwed up when I got cocky and swung too hard, not ready for him when he ducked and tackled me, grunting when I continued to beat him with the rug beater over the head, neck and shoulders, as he tried to subdue me.
He growled at me and ripped the tool out of my hands, tossing it into the living room.
"No!" I bellowed and decided my fists and nails were as good a weapon as anything.
"Crazy, damn... Stop fucking scratching me! Ow! You little..." he grumbled and grunted at me, trying to dodge me.
His body mashed down on top of mine, his massive, warm chest squashing me as our pelvises met and kissed from the awkward position.
Soooo shouldn't have put on a nightgown tonight!
I thought as his water logged underwear became intimately acquainted with my panties.
Hello!
I screamed bloody murder as he pinned my hands over my head, successfully restraining me.
The lights suddenly shot on, blinding us both as Bowen, Sawyer and Thatcher came barreling down the stairs.
"Reeve?" Bowen blinked down at us, dumbfounded.
He took in the man on top of me, my nightgown hiked up around my hips-
giving everyone a free show-
his hips pinned to mine, pants around his ankles, boots still on.
This is
not
what you're thinkin' boys! I thought as I continued to hiss and spit at my captor.
"What the fuck are you doing, Reeve?" Sawyer demanded, shocked, acting as if he was going to come over and help, but a little unsure, it seemed, who would need it most right now-
me or this Reeve person.
Reeve?
Who the fuck is Reeve and why haven't I heard of him?
"This isn't what you're thinking!
She
attacked
me
," the man pinning me down growled as I fought him like a wild cat.
I grunted in satisfaction when I felt my nails digging into his flesh.
A surprised yelp escaped him when I dug them in harder, hoping I left a mark, maybe several.
Jerking my wrists, I finally managed to wrangle a hand free and aimed right for his face.
Much faster than me, he grunted in frustration and grabbed it, subduing it immediately before I could do any lasting damage.
I squeaked as his large body loomed over me and he leaned down to hiss in my ear, "Stop moving or you're gonna pop my god damned dick out of my boxer shorts with all of your wiggling around, woman."
Shriek, anyone? Well, don’t mind if I do.
And that’s exactly what I did, right next to his ear.
"Get off of me,
pervert
, and you won't have to worry about them seeing your itty bitty petey!" I snapped.
He glared at me in silence and seethed inwardly for a moment, face an angry, splotchy red.
I thought he was about to say something back when Thatcher tried to push past Sawyer.
"Get your hands off her, Reeve!" Thatcher hissed at this Reeve person.
Oh, good, someone has remained awake enough to show a little sanity!