Page 155 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
“There it is,” the man said, pride shining in his eyes.
“What?” she breathed.
“The fight. It’s hidden beneath the love and the light, and, might I say, with a bit of bloody sexy psycho.”
A wry grin bloomed on her lips. He wasn’t wrong. She’d tapped into a vein of gloriously liberating crazy.
“You’ve got a lion vibe mixed in with your lamb,” he added.
“You’re just now noticing?” she tossed back when Derrick Dawson staggered forward. The man groaned as his friends helped him out of the ring, sliding him under the ropes like a limp noodle. The Tri-Derricks looked ready to bolt, but Raz jumped the ropes and blocked their exit.
“I believe you owe Ms. Lamb an apology,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.
She climbed out of the ring and stood beside her beefcake. Solid and as balanced as she’d ever felt, their energy mingled, yin and yang, creating an impenetrable whole.
“Sorry,” the Derricks lamented in unison like a trio of sullen schoolboys.
“For…” Raz coaxed.
The two Derricks stared at Raz and swallowed hard, sweat glistening on their brows, while Derrick Dawson moaned, holding his oysters.
“Let me help,” Raz began, taking a step toward the men. “You’re sorry for mistreating women and acting like a bag of dicks.”
Libby raised an eyebrow.
Not bad.
Concise and to the point.
“Now say it,” Raz demanded.
“We’re sorry for mistreating women and acting like a bag of dicks,” the two Derricks, who could breathe, parroted as Derrick Dawson nodded.
“Can we go?” Derrick Dawson eked out, staring at the poop on his shoulder.
“All we need is a credit card for the two bonus donations,” Maud chimed.
“Toodel-oo, thanks to the jackasses for supporting the jackasses,” Raz sang out, waving as the Tri-Derricks followed Maud to one of the tents.
Libby eyed her boxer. “Toodel-oo?”
“I’m British,” he offered with a cheeky shrug. “I can throw atoodel-ooout, here and there. It balances out the bag of dicks part.”
She chuckled as the rush of the moment ebbed, and her hammering heart slowed. “I don’t know what to say besides thank you.”
He waved her off. But he still looked awfully full of himself. “I’m two for two.”
“What does that mean?”
He held her gaze, and his perceptive gray eyes swallowed her whole. “I beat Zen Dougie in our practice race. And then I found myself uniquely positioned to help my spiritual coach exact some duly deserved vengeance. The universe seems to be telling us something, plum.”
She could feel it, too. And the question she’d been grappling with danced in her mind.
Could she believe in it?
“And what do you think the universe wants us to know?” she asked, her words airy like flower petals carried on the breeze.
They stared at each other, and she tried to read him as his words echoed in her heart.
