Page 25 of Shenanigans

A boisterous chorus of cock-a-doodle-doos vied with the buzzing snores of what had to be a grizzly bear. I cracked an eye open. Huh? Tinkerbell snored.

The cock-a-doodle-doos got louder.

What the hell? Memory flooded back, and I groaned. The roosters had found my orange grove. I rolled over and looked at the clock. Four frickin’ o’clock? Ugh.

The roosters crowed again and again and again and again.

I winced as pain shot through my temples. God, did I have a headache.

Arf? Arf?

I glanced over at Tinkerbell who was giving me the doggie version of the evil eye.“Don’t worry, I’ll find them a new home.”

Woof?

“As soon as possible.”

More clangorous cock-a-doodle-doos filled the morning air.

The neighbor’s dogs started barking. Pretty soon every dog in the neighborhood was joining in.

Tinkerbell howled.

I put a pillow over my head. God, just kill me now.

Bang! Bang! Bang!My front door shuddered under the blows. “Shut those fucking roosters up,” Dutch bellowed.

If I stopped them, he’d know for sure I could control critters, but would anyone believe him?

The roosters’ crowing got louder and louder.

My headache got worse and worse. I only had four glasses of champagne and I shouldn’t be this hung over.

Dutch shouted, “Shut them up or I’m going to write you a ticket for disturbing the peace.”

“Arrrgh!” I climbed out of bed, opened the bedroom window and leaned out. “Go ahead. It’ll get laughed out of court.” My eyes widened in surprise. Shadows wrapped around Dutch’s abdomen, but left his bare chest and legs exposed. I suddenly had the urge to run my hands all over those yummy muscles. Was he naked? And if he was, how did I get him to move into the light?

I smacked my forehead. What in the hell was wrong with me? Why was I drooling over the asshole? I had seen a nude man before and his little pecker kinda reminded me of a one-eyed snake. “How about I call 9-1-1 and report a naked prowler.”

Dutch stepped into view. “I’m not naked.”

My girly parts danced in delight. Whoa, he was hung like a stallion. His jockey shorts displayed every inch of his impressive morning woody.

Dutch crossed his arms and smirked. “Like what you see?”

“I’ve seen bigger.”

“Really?” The bastard laughed and shook his head. “You’re lying.”

“Am not.” God, that sounded juvenile.

“I have it on good authority that you’re a virgin.”

“What?” It came out as a squawk of horror. “Who told you that?”

“Your mother.”

I was going to kill her.

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