One of them readies like he’s about to spring over the fence. Before he can, Truman rushes in, teeth bared. The man curses while the other one hisses, “Truman, be quiet.”
My dog immediately stops, sniffs, then gives a happy yip and jumps into the huge man’s arms.
“Oh. My. God.”
I stomp over through the already goopy powdered mashed potatoes. “What the hell are you doing out here?”
“What the fuck areyoudoing out here?”
I reach up and grab at the scarf covering McCarthy’s face.
No smirk, just a scowl.
I match it.
“I didn’t see your fancy motorcycle. Your friend better have driven you over here, buddy.”
“We walked.” McCarthy’s friend has a deep voice with a slight touch of New England in his accent. He’s wearinga face mask, his dark hood casting a shadow over his face. All I catch are wintry-gray eyes and dark brows. The man seems shocked to see me.
“Who’s your tall, hot friend?” I poke McCarthy in the chest. “I might have to swap him out on the threesome with your brother.”
“Dude…”
“He’s not that tall.” McCarthy’s scowl deepens.
“I think he’s taller than you.” I reach up and run my hand, palm flat, between them.
“I think she’s right.” His crime friend’s eyes crinkle.
“My shoes are thinner.” McCarthy is stubborn.
“Are you single?”
“I can be.” Dark eyebrows rise slightly.
“I’m in the market.” I gesture to the house. “Obviously.”
“Don’t date her. She’s a disaster,” McCarthy interjects.
“I like a disaster with a blue-collar body.” The wintry eyes flick up and down.
“Fuck off.”
“He has a nice butt.” I hiccup.
“Are you drunk, Cupcake?”
“Buddy, you have no idea.”
“I don’t know why you hired me. Sounds like you could have just called her up. Burning a man alive. That’s pretty hardcore shit.” Crime Friend jerks his chin.
“Oh no, these are mashed potatoes, see…”
The shadow man makes a knife hand behind me.
“Oh shit!”
Remember that backpack Sunflower is wearing? The one with the gnome? Yeah, that’s a flamethrower.
