Just Her Luck (61 page)

He stumbled back and acted like I’d stabbed him, fumbling into the kitchen counter.

Everyone else, used to him by now, just ignored him.

“You wound me.” His look said wounded, but his eyes said he was just fuckin’ around.

I whacked his ass with the spatula, and he yelped, jumping.

I winked. “You’ll live.”

“Hmph! See if I ever give you a love note,” he muttered, stealing a slice of French toast and a quick French kiss. “It certainly would have been a lot nicer than that drivel you gave me.”

I laughed and put on four more slices, my platter quickly filling up.

“It wasn’t meant to be a love note.”

“What was it, then?” he grumped.

“A warning.”

“Ouch!” Ephraim laughed when he walked into the room, a bundle of whistles and bubbly energy.

“Hello, baby,” he greeted, thumping Thatcher in the chest with the spatula as he quickly handed it to him and picked me up, kissing me silly. “How’s my wonderful woman today?”

I giggled, making Thatcher pretend to gag from over the stove.

“Ignore him,” I turned Ephraim’s face back to me so he wasn’t glaring daggers at Thatcher for ruining his moment, “He’s just sore because he didn’t like the little note I wrote to go with his present.”

“Present. Pfft! Some present,” Thatch grumbled.

Bowen reached over with his free hand, the one not holding his coffee, and slapped Thatcher upside the head.

“Get some fuckin’ manners,” he barked.

“Ow! Don’t hit me, cretin!” Thatcher hissed.

“French toast is ready. Let’s go grub!” Sawyer snatched up the platter off the counter and went to carry it to the table.

I smiled proudly.

That’s my big hunky mediator! You go, baby!

Thatcher handed Bo the spatula and raced out of the room.

“Don’t you dare take the best pieces, Sawyer! I know you do!”

“I don’t see how he’s older than you,” I told Ephraim and sighed heavily to exaggerate my point.

Bo grinned and followed the madness into the dining room, handing me back my spatula, a quick kiss too, before he left.

“What did his note say?” Ephraim asked curiously, shaking his head at the mystery that is Thatcher.

“It said ‘Use
them
or lose
it’
. I underlined
them
and
it
and did the whole italicized slanty thing. I even put pictures to illustrate.”

I pulled out the paper from my pocket and unfolded it, handing it over to him.

Ephraim burst out laughing and set me on my feet, examining the picture I’d doodled of a stick version of Thatcher gaping at the ‘V’ of his stick legs where his little stick prick should be. There was also a stick version of me holding a pair of scissors, grinning.

I think it’s easy enough to get my point.

“Guess I better not show him mine, then, huh?” Ephraim chuckled.

“Nope, guess you better not,” I laughed, turning over my last piece of toast.

“Out of curiosity… what did the others’ notes say?” he asked.

I picked up the last platter and swayed my hips as I sauntered out, looking at him from over my shoulder.

“Wouldn’t you just like to know...”

He smiled and hightailed it after me, chasing me into the dining room, a predatory grin on his handsomely bearded face.

I ran/walked as dignified as possible, giggling hysterically the whole way.

****

“Awww, come on! What did yours say?” Thatcher persisted, pestering Ephraim.

“Nope,” he shook his head, “I aint tellin’.”

“Tellin’ what?” Reeve asked, walking in.

“What his letter said.” Thatcher waved his hand at Ephraim.

“What letter?” Reeve glanced over at me, but I averted my eyes, eating in favor of talking.

“The one she wrote to him the other day. We all got one. Among
other
things.”

I laughed at his put out tone.

“Don’t be such a baby,” I teased, swirling my fork on my plate.

“Eustice called before he left for work,” Sawyer cut in, effectively changing the subject.

“Oh, yeah? What did he have to say?” This was from Bowen.

He glanced up from his plate long enough to let Sawyer know he was interested.

“He was reminding us of our annual camping trip, it’s comin’ up real soon here. Said he couldn’t make it. Work.”

Thatcher scowled, but then smiled suddenly.

“I don’t want to go this year,” he said, “You guys can go on ahead and go. I’m so backed up with shit to do lately too, it just wouldn’t be right.”

All the guys snorted, rolling their eyes at him.

“It’s Reeve’s turn to stay behind this year. You
have
to go. No ifs ands or butts. Our daddies would skin us alive if we skipped out and
you know it.”
Ephraim gave Thatcher a look like he thought he’d gone insane.

Thatcher didn’t notice, he was too busy giving me a thorough once over.

“It would be worth it.” He eyed me and grinned wickedly.

“Enough of that, Romeo,” Bowen smirked, “You aren’t gettin’ out of it any more than anyone else is, so forget it.”

“I could get sick, you never know,” he muttered sullenly, pushing his food around with his fork.

“And you’d have Mama over here in a hot minute, right up your ass. Kinda hard to play hooky when you’re mama’s cock blockin’ ya. Give it up, Thatch. You’re goin’, the end.” Bowen snorted at his brother, sipping his coffee.

“Is it like a guys’ trip thing?” I asked curiously, wondering about how that all works.

“Yeah,” Sawyer answered and smiled at me apologetically, “We’d invite you, honey, it’s just…”

“Oh, no, no, no! You couldn’t get me to go camping if my life depended on it!” I shuddered visibly. “I
hate
camping.”

“Not the outdoorsy type, girly?” Bo teased.

“It’s not that I don’t like the outdoors, per se, it’s more like the outdoors doesn’t like
me
.”

They all looked at me blankly.

“I have allergies and asthma. All those lovely things that people go outside to enjoy, nature, dirt, trees, flowers,
etcetera
, well, I have
bad
allergies, outdoor allergens, mold, pollen, you know,
the works
. So when they get going, the asthma gets goin’, and I get goin’. It’s like bein’ assaulted on all fronts. It is no bueno, my friend. Let me tell you.”

I grimaced at the very thought, remembering that one miserable first half of summer when my mother had shoved me into a summer camp and how I’d spent most of my time in the infirmary.

Oh, the memories.

That was the summer Ruthie picked me up from
camp allergy hell
and took me to the doctors and subsequently the allergist.

Then they’d informed us that I’m highly allergic to mold-
yippee for me-
among many other things, and I got to spend the rest of the summer at Ruthie’s house-
a ‘real’ yippee this time.

“So it’s not just smoke that aggravates your pipes?” Reeve asked me directly.

“Uh, no,” I answered awkwardly, uncomfortable around him even more now after our little heart to heart last night.

It was like we’d seen into each other, glimpsed too deeply for my liking.

The vulnerability that
that
had required left me feeling defenseless and weak, especially when it comes to him-
susceptible still.

“What else then? Anything around here?” His tone was polite, almost cordial even as he gazed at me steadily and sipped his coffee.

Always with the steady gaze.

It’s damned unnerving.

“Uhm, hay does it, mold, flowers, cats… Hey!
Don’t look at me like that
, I know I’m a hot mess.” I shrugged, taking a sip of my orange juice. “It is what it is. Nothing I can do about it to make it magically disappear. I just have to deal with it and figure out what works best for me.”

Ephraim yawned, unable to hold it back, and shook his head to clear it.

“Sorry, baby. I just went to bed too late and woke up too early. I’m listening, though,” he said on another long yawn.

I patted his knee, smiling reassuringly.

“How are the little baby horses doing?” I shifted in my seat to give him my full attention.

“Oh, they’re beautiful, Genny. You should see ‘em. One’s as white as snow, a little bit of black in his tail, and the other’s completely brown, almost a muddy color, but she’s the cutest little thing stumblin’ around everywhere. You’d love ‘em.”

“I bet they’ll make fine horses,” I told him, no idea what I’m talking about.

I have no idea if they would or not, I’m totally talking out my ass, and sadly, I don’t have much experience around animals, at all.

I was never allowed to have any growing up, and I never bothered to trifle with one when I got older.

Bo caught something in my expression or tone as I bull shitted, he must have.

“Have you ever ridden a horse, sweetheart?” he asked curiously as he set his coffee down and slowly ran his finger over the rim of his cup.

Everyone stopped mid chew to await my answer.

I stuffed a huge bite of food in my mouth and chewed slowly, shaking my head.

“Never?” Thatcher asked curiously.

“Nuh- huh,” I mumbled, stuffing in another bite.

Who cares if I’ve ever ridden a horse? I’m not going to now or ever, so it doesn’t really matter.

“Well, we can fix that,” Sawyer said excitedly, warming up to the idea.

I choked and coughed on my food, going down hard when I swallowed, chugging the rest of my juice to wash it down.

I waved my hands wildly, head shaking vigorously.

“Not necessary,” I gasped once I was able.

“Sure it is.” Ephraim’s comment was accompanied by an emphatic nod. “You’re gonna be marryin’ a bunch of cowboys, baby. You might need to ride a horse at some point. Better to learn now than later, right?”

“Let’s not and say we did.” I laughed uneasily, wiping my face with a napkin.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Why?” I said evasively.

“But why not?” he just had to keep on.

“Ephraim,” Reeve barked, “She said she doesn’t wanna, drop it.”

Ephraim looked truly puzzled.

“But… who doesn’t wanna learn to ride a horse?” I almost smiled at the shock in his voice.

“Me,” I stated emphatically.

“She’d be awesome in the saddle,” Thatcher mused, winking to emphasize his lewd comment.

I snorted and threw my napkin at him.

He caught it and blew me a kiss.

Sighing exasperatedly, I rolled my eyes.

Been doing that a lot, the eye rolling.

“So… when do you guys get back from your guys’ trip?” I asked casually, hoping to change the subject.

No horsies for me. Nope.

“We leave on a Friday and come back the following.” Sawyer picked up my plate with his and kissed me quickly before he made his way to the sink.

“A whole week?”
A week? Damn.
I slumped inwardly.

I’m not one to pout, but I could hear the hint of whine in my voice, even to my own ears.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Ephraim assured me, “I’ll stay with you if you want.”

“No, you won’t,” Bowen argued, pointing at him, “If
I
have to go, you have to go.”

Reeve got up and snorted.

“She’ll be fine. There’s plenty of shi… uh, crap she can do around here if she wants. She won’t be bored.”

“Mama will probably hit you up to do things too,” Bo said thoughtfully.

“If Ephraim doesn’t have to go, then I’m not going either,” Thatcher chimed in hopefully.

“Don’t you guys even like to go? And if you don’t, why go at all?”
I am completely at a loss on this one.

“Normally we do like to go,” Sawyer came walking back into the room, his body brushing mine as I stood up, “but now we have a reason to stay.”

He looked at me knowingly, reminding me of last night.

I gave him a saucy grin and winked.

He chuckled.

“Alright, don’t you assholes have somewhere to be?” Reeve grumbled, back to his old surly self.

“Sure,” Thatcher said easily, “as soon as I see what ‘E’s note says.”

“Nope,” Ephraim grinned smugly, “not doin’. It is for my eyes only.”