Page 9 of I Hate Myself for Loving You
Oh.
Well, well. Wasn’t Lassiter a real caped crusader?
The glee with which Hector spoke, his complete obliviousness to whatever Lassiter was cooking up while he took advantage of Hector’s innocence, made Avery’s blood boil.
She brushed her hair out of her eyes and faced Hector, who was a little too moony eyed for her taste. “I can help you, Hector.”
He frowned, his eyes flashing confusion. “You cannot either. You don’t know how to use power tools.”
Avery sent him a signal with her expression that begged him to work with her, but Hector was having none of it.
Shaking his head, Hector said, “Lassiter knows how to use power tools.”
Lassiter knows how to use all sorts of tools was the first thing that popped into her mind. But she shook it right off.
“So…so do I,” she muttered back. Well, okay, so she didn’t know-know how to use a power tool, but that’s what the Internet was for, right?
“Really?” Lassiter drawled. “Guess you’ve come a long way since that trust fund, haven’t you, Avery?” His dark hair shone in the sun, dark hair that Avery, only last night, had latched onto in passionate abandon.
Leaning back against the shabby railed fencing that still remained even after he’d dug the ground to China and back, Lassiter crossed his feet at the ankles and cradled the bunny. His T-shirt stretched over his pecs, enhancing their ripple.
And it was pissing her off. “Yeah, I have,” she replied with as much calm as she could muster. “C’mon, Hector. Let’s go see what we can do about Pinky’s bunny hut.”
Hector wasn’t so convinced. “I dunno, A. It has to be sturdy, otherwise Pinky’ll get out again and I would be very upset if I lost him.”
“We couldn’t have Pinky running amok, now could we, Avery?” Lassiter asked, turning his gaze to capture Avery’s. His question, laced with a taunt, increased her determination to build a freakin’ bunny hut.
Hop, hop.
Avery grabbed Hector’s hand, staring up at Lassiter’s dark, bespectacled eyes.
“No, we couldn’t have that. I can build a bunny hut. I will build a bunny hut. Now, c’mon, Hector,” she commanded, pulling him behind her, before stopping momentarily.
Letting go of Hector’s hand, Avery took brisk strides back to Lassiter and shoved her hands in the cradle of his arms. “We’ll take Pinky, thank you,” she said stiffly, yanking Pinky, who was quite happy where he was, out of those fantastically bulging arms. Looking down at the silky white creature, Avery said, “C’mon, Pinky. You’re going to have a new home.”
Avery stomped off, Pinky and Hector in tow.
See me stick my tongue out at you, Lassiter Adams.
His chuckle drifted to her sensitive ears, mocking her.
Six hours later, a whole lot of chicken wire and piles of wasted wood, Avery threw down the power drill with a scream of frustration. “Fucking piece of shit, useless, pointless, God damned waste of seventy-five bucks!”
She closed her eyes and whirled around in a circle, kicking dirt as she went, dancing on the instructional sheet she’d printed from the Internet. In one last moment of fury, she kicked the long two-by-four that lay on the saw horse over, stubbing her toe.
“Moootherfluffer!” she yelped, hobbling on one foot.
“Uh-oh. Is that the potty mouthed, power tool wielding, ‘I can do this myself’ Avery I hear?”
Fabulous.
Just what she needed.
Lassiter Adams up her ass, cracking on her for not being able to do something as simple as build a bunny hut.
Rubbing her foot through her sneaker, she retorted, “Shut the hell up, Lassiter, and go back to your trailer. I don’t need your comments. I’m just experiencing a couple of technical difficulties is all.”
Duct tape. That was all she needed. Nothing a little roll or twelve wouldn’t fix. She’d been smart when she bought the economy pack. Who needed a radial arm saw when you had duct tape?
