Page 9 of Forever Endeavor

Cal nodded, still chuckling as he answered. “Not to mention the world’s best battered fish recipe. So, whaddya say? Come for dinner, stay for some shut eye?”

Sonny

Shampoo suds cascaded down Sonny’s back as he lathered the day away. He wondered if Billie had hightailed it out of that shack or if she was just stubborn enough to stick it out to prove him and the rest of mankind wrong. He probably should’ve done the chivalrous thing and checked in on her, but…meh. Not worth the hassle of pissing her off more.

Sure, she’s a snack, he had to admit, with her soft curves, pouty lips and all that good stuff that distracts you from realizing she’s the kind of chocolate chip cookie that’s actually filled with raisins. Just like Melissa. Nope, he wasn’t ever gonna fall into that trap again. The smartest thing he could do is fix that damn car and send her packing.

After a final rinse, he shut off the faucet, slowing the spray to a trickle. He groped for a towel, pulled back the shower curtain and wiped his face. Ahh, that felt refreshing. Too bad Billie couldn’t simply wash her day down the drain. Hell, just wait ‘til she realized cabin three didn’t even have running water. He’d better not leave home without bulletproof underwear.

Whistling a carefree tune, Sonny tamed his dark mop of hair with a comb. Slinging the damp towel over his shoulder, he opened the bathroom door and emerged from the clouds of steam, the rush of cool air like a welcome kiss on his hot, clean skin.

“Oh GOD!” Billie screeched.

“FUCK!!” Sonny howled, cupping his hand to cage his bat and balls as he fell back against the wall. “What the actual fuck?!”

“Oh shit, shit, shit, I’m sorry!” She shielded her eyes and pivoted to face away. “I swear, I didn’t know anyone was here. Oh God, I’m sooo sorry.”

Mortified, Sonny snatched the towel off the floor and fastened it around his waist, his heart kicking as if he’d woken up from that godawful nightmare of being caught nude in public. Only it was actually happening. “Why the hell are you up here?”

“Cal said I could stay in the spare room tonight. Why are you walking around naked?”

“I live here!” Seething at the invasion of his privacy, he sidestepped into his bedroom and slammed the door shut, followed by a second slam across the hall. How the fuck did Billie weasel her way into this?Lemme guess. Cal got suckered in by her chocolate chips too.

Sonny threw on a clean shirt and jeans and bounded barefoot down the stairs to the kitchen. “What the hell, old man? You invited her to stay with us?”

Cal did a half-turn away from the counter where he was filleting fish. “You didn’t actually expect her to sleep in that rotting shit hole, did you?”

“You could’ve asked me first. She barged in as I was coming buck fuckin’ naked out of the shower.”

“Heh, it’s probably been a spell since anyone’s seen your wedding tackle.” Cal snorted. “I thought you’d be happier about having Billie around. She’s a good looking young woman.”

Sonny sneered. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You suddenly develop cataracts, boy? She’s just your type.”

“She’s not my type because I don’t have a type. But if I did, it definitely wouldn’t be a ball-busting princess like her.” Sonny opened the fridge, grabbing a couple of overdue cold ones.

“Take another one out for Her Royal Highness,” Cal said. “She’s joining us for dinner.”

Sonny reached into the back for one more. “Geez, what else has she been able to talk you into today?”

“Nothing really,” answered a sing-song voice on the other side of the fridge door, “unless you count Uncle Cal and I skipping town to elope.” Billie held out her palm. “Beer me, nephew.”

Cal roared with laughter as Sonny relinquished the can.

“Look, I’m really sorry for what just happened,” she said, popping the top and letting out a lazy hiss. “I swear, I had no idea you were upstairs, but then BAM! There you were in the flesh.”

He slammed the door of the fridge, rattling its contents. “There’s guys who shower before work, and then there’s real men who shower after work. Like me. I always shower after work.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?” She shrugged and then chugged some beer. “Any news about my car?”

“I checked the OBD. Looks like it could be the PCM.”

“Could you translate that into English please?”

“I hooked up your automobile to the on-board diagnostic system and it said engine go boom,” Sonny recited deliberately slow. “The powertrain control module is probably toast, which sucks because that’s your car’s computer brain. It regulates all the functions.”

“Shit. Think you can you fix it?”

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