Page 69 of Wood Riddance
Parker racked her weights and raised one brow at me. “Didn’t you used to call him Satan’s Asshole?”
“Yes. Among other things. But he’s annoyingly decent.”
She continued to watch me without speaking. Shit, was this what she was like in an interrogation room? Did she play the silent type who waited out the perpetrator, made them sweat before they caved and confessed?
“And tender,” I said, giving in and opening up. “And dammit, he’s really good in bed.”
“I knew it.” She pumped her fist. “Now we’re getting to the good shit. Please tell me it’s proportional to the rest of him. ’Cause that guy is, like, almost seven feet tall.”
There was no doubt my face was bright red. If the heat didn’t give it away, my reflection in the mirror sure did.
“Okay, okay. So the Viking lumberjack is hung and has layers. Shit, this is getting complicated.”
“Tell me about it.”
She adjusted her ponytail and frowned.
“Now that I’m a mature woman in a serious relationship,” she said, holding that concerned expression despite how ridiculous that statement was, “I’m going to give you some advice. Stop and think. It’s easy to get swept up in the forbidden. It’s easy to forget about reality when he’s got a big dick.” She gave me an exaggerated wink. “Give yourself some time. You’ve been through a lot. There’s no need to rush things. If you want to pursue this, I’ve got your back. I will handcuff Paz if I need to.”
“Gag. You probably already do that.”
“Only once in a while.” She giggled. “But I mean it. If this is real, I’m on it. I’ll wrestle every hater into submission. Just be sure before you take the plunge.”
Her advice was solid. I couldn’t even begin to deal with this until the dust settled. I was still on an adrenaline high from our flight and the storm and all the orgasms. Was this worth blowing up my life for? Hurting my family? I hadn’t even thought about my mom. She’d be devastated if I brought a Hebert to family dinner.
“Go home and try to relax,” she urged me gently. “Because you’re coming out tonight.”
“No way.” The last thing I wanted was to deal with people. My only plans for the evening involved snuggling up with He-man and watching reality TV until my brain rotted. That would take care of the pesky memories of Finn.
“Nice try. Shower and put on something cute. We’re getting drinks. The whole gang is coming. Alice is even dragging Henri out. They got a babysitter for the evening.”
Henri. That pulled a chuckle from me. My oldest brother’s idea of a great night was reading a book in front of the fireplace with his dogs and Alice beside him. But he was growing and changing.
As much as it killed me to admit it, I should probably spend some time with my brothers outside of work. Now that they were all locked down, we didn’t hang out nearly enough.
“You can smoke everyone in darts and collect free chicken fingers.”
That sounded like the world’s worst idea. “Eh, no thanks.”
“You need to work through all this shit. Leave your house. Your dog and your book boyfriend will still be there when you get home. Flirt, dance, have a beer.”
“Who the hell am I going to flirt with in this town?”
“Please. It’s summer in Maine. There are men everywhere. The local boys and the tourists and the random weirdos.”
“Wow. You make it sound so appealing. You and I both know what’s going to happen. I’ll come out, and we’ll hang for a bit, but then you losers will all cuddle up with your significant others, and I’ll be stuck hanging out with Dylan.”
“He’s a sweetheart,” Parker crooned.
Dylan Markey had been Remy’s best friend all his life. He was an unofficial Gagnon and one of the best people I knew. But, as the only single people in our little group, we always ended up hanging out and shooting pool when the rest of the crowd got all lovey-dovey.
“Of course he is. But I don’t hear you denying that you’ll get two drinks deep and then be too busy sticking your tongue down my brother’s throat to hang out with me.”
“At the moment, I’m unable to predict the outcome of the evening. Have you seen your brother? I can’t keep my hands off my lumbersuit.” She waggled her brows.
“Please stop.” I gagged. “You’re making it worse.”
“I’ll stop if you promise to come out for a bit.”
