Page 51 of The Misfits of Copper County
“Justneighbors?” I dived for my pajama shorts. “Justneighborswho are about to find us naked? Together? With—” I gestured wildly at the rumpled sleeping bag, the haphazard pile of pillows, and the empty wine bottles that clearly told the tale of our night together.
A face appeared at the window, and I yelped, diving behind the couch like a cartoon character.
“Put on some clothes!” I whisper-shouted to Brewer, who was moving with infuriating calm as he stepped into his jeans.
“What do you think I’m doing?” The thread of amusement in his voice said he was enjoying my panic way too much.
I crawled across the floor, grabbing whatever clothes I could find—which happened to be my pajama shorts and Brewer’s sweatshirt. I yanked the shirt over my head just as the doorbell rang again.
“I’ll take Teeny out the back for a bathroom break,” Brewer said. A glance over my shoulder showed he was mercifully now wearing his jeans and henley from last night. “Youhandle the welcoming committee.”
He whistled softly, and Teeny, who’d been watching our frantic dressing routine with judgment in her doggy eyes, rose and padded after him.
“Thanks a lot!” I called after him. My head throbbed harder as I stumbled to the door, trying to finger-comb my hair into something that didn’t screamI’ve just been thoroughly ravished by a hot contractor.
I pulled the door open, wincing at the blast of cold air—and found myself face-to-face with what appeared to be the entire winter sports section of an REI catalog.
“Delaney! Finally!” Janice Plum cried, her cornucopia hat now replaced with an aggressively pink ski cap with a pom-pom the size of a cantaloupe. “Thank goodness you’re alright! We were so worried when you didn’t answer the door.”
Behind her stood Hen in a blinding blue parka, along with Brewer’s cousin Hayes and my Kitchen Couriers delivery guy, who wore matching neon green snowsuits that made them look like human highlighters.
“You were?” I shivered and rubbed my bare legs together. “Sorry, did I miss a memo about a neighborhood… snow ritual or something?”
“Silly Delaney. We’re here to THWAC you!” Janice declared, throwing her arms wide with such enthusiasm that her pom-pom nearly took out Hen’s eye.
“Thwackme?” The morning sun reflecting off approximately three trillion snowflakes made my eyes water, and for half a second, I felt like I had, indeed, been thwacked. Hard. Either that, or I was still asleep and having some kind of strange wine-induced nightmare.
“T-H-W-A-C,” Hayes supplied. “As in, The Helpful Wintertime Association of Coppertians.”
Hen shrugged and muttered, “Janice came up with the name.”
“We shovel snow for folks who can’t do it themselves for whatever reason,” Kel said proudly. “And for people who, like, don’t have shovels.” He gave me a sympathetic look.
“Oh. Well. That’s… that’s very nice.” I said. But I wasn’t sure what to say after that. Was I supposed to pay them? Or invite them inside for refreshments I didn’t have? Or, fuck, offer tohelpthem with my nonexistent shovel? I fussed awkwardly with the cuffs of my sweatshirt.
Hayes caught the motion and gave my shirt an up-down look, and then his whole face brightened. “Nice outfit,” he said.
I glanced down and realized that my chest was emblazoned with “Portland Builders Convention 2018.”
My face went nuclear. “Oh, this? This is… I, ah…” I folded my arms over my chest as though I could belatedly stop them from noticing. “Funny story, actually.”
“Really? I love a funny story.” Hayes grinned.
“Heh. Yeah. Maybe Brewer could help you tell it?” Kel’s shit-eating grin was the mirror of Hayes’s. “We tried calling his phone like fifty times?—”
“We were asleep until two minutes ago!” Their grins widened, and I felt my face go impossibly hotter. “I mean,Iwas asleep, andhewas asleep. Independently. Just two people… sleeping. And then he had to take Teeny out?—”
Hen’s eyebrows went up.
“I assume,” I added quickly. “Though I would obviously have no way of knowing.”
Hayes nodded. “Since you were sleeping independently.”
Kel snorted into his glove.
“Well!” Janice chirped, completely oblivious to the subtext. “We brought provisions!” She held up a large thermos. “I made coffee! And Hen got you something at the bakery?—”
“Strawberry croissants,” Hen said gruffly, holding up a small plastic container. He didn’t quite meet my eyes. “Heard you like ’em.”
