Page 35 of Ugly Duckling
I slowly peeled my eyes open, then immediately closed them again when the late, setting sun scorched my retinas.
I groaned and turned over, burying my face in the pillow underneath my head.
Except, it was no pillow.
It was a flesh-and-bone man’s chest.
A very defined, very hard, very masculine chest.
There was a silver Saint Christopher medal over his heart, along with a set of dog tags, and my hand was wrapped around all three.
I let them go as carefully as I could and pushed up, my bladder screaming.
He groaned when I pushed off of his belly accidentally and said, “You could’ve done that without pushing off of my overly full bladder.”
My cheeks heated. “Sorry about that.”
I got up, but there was absolutely no speed in my step as I walked toward the bathroom that I’d used earlier.
I heard him groan just as the door closed behind me.
After doing my business, I picked up one of the bath toys that’d fallen from my earlier perching against the lip of the tub, and dropped it before washing my hands and heading back out to the living room where he was still lying.
“Thought you had to pee?” I asked him, poking him on the bottom of the foot as I got close enough. “Are you okay?”
He pulled his forearm from his face and said, “I definitely feel the soreness intruding now. I tried to get up and caught a cramp in my abs.”
He rubbed the spot over his belly with a tender touch.
I turned around and got him a bottle of water, then started snooping through his cabinets.
“What are you looking for?”
“Celtic sea salt if you have it,” I said. “Or, if not that, then regular salt.”
“I have those electrolyte things I think in my workout bag in my car.” He paused. “But the thought of going all the way out there sounds pretty awful.”
I rolled my eyes and snatched the keys he’d left on the counter earlier, then headed out to the car that was in the garage.
I was just pressing the button to unlock it when I got hollered at. “Hey, you!”
At first I hadn’t expected to be addressed at all, so I ignored the calls and pulled open the back door where a black gym bag lay.
I fished around in the side pockets until I found the salt packets he was talking about and had just closed the door to the truck when a murderous voice said, “Hey, sweet cheeks! I’m talking to you.”
I stiffened at the sound of a voice so close and backed into the side of the truck to set some space between us.
He ignored that space and leaned forward. “Tell your boyfriend to…”
He never got to finish his sentence because all of a sudden, the garage door was yanked open and Gunner was out the door before I’d had the time to register movement.
“I know you’re not getting in her face right now, in my own goddamn garage, Dick!”
“It’s Rich…” Dick started to say, but he was roughly pushed backward.
He fell so hard that his back skidded on the ground.
When he rolled onto his back, gasping for air, Gunner hit the button on the garage door and said, “Next time knock nicely on the door if you have an issue. Or, better yet, stop fucking bitching about me and get a goddamn life!”
