Page 37 of Property of Mercury

“What are you playing with that’s got you so greasy?” I inquire as Finley walks over to the sink and washes her hands.

“We were oiling the lift,” she answers, shooting me one of her dick raising smiles.

“What’s with all the boxes that are only halfway unpacked?” Pisces asks as he walks over to one and peers inside. “Fucking hell. That’s a lot of small packages to unwrap.”

“That’s why we set it to the side. It’s going to be boring, tedious work,” Orion grumbles. “I like getting my hands dirty, don’t get me wrong, but they like tinkering with machines, not inventory.”

“You’re such a baby,” Finley teases him.

“Well,” I say, clapping my hands. “Put us to work, tell us what needs to go where and we’ll help y’all out.”

“Speak for yourself, Merc,” Aries grunts as he walks in with a bag full of bottled waters in his hand. “I got enough to supply us for a few hours. Is there a fridge around here somewhere so I can store these and keep them cold?”

“In the break room,” Orion tells him, pointing down a narrow hallway that leads to the back alley. “I just plugged it in this morning once I noticed the paint was dry.”

I make a mental note to order cases of water, the electrolyte drinks that Orion prefers, and their favorite sodas so they’re stocked up and hydrated. Since my woman will be working here, I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure she’s comfortable while she plays with cars and bikes.

As Aries saunters the way he was directed, we notice a rusted car pull up and park. When the engine shuts down, two women step out, mirror images of each other. When Finley gasps and covers her mouth with her hands as she dances in place, I go on alert.

“Paloma!” she shouts as she drops her hands and lets her feet move her forward in a mix of a sprint and the tango.

As she rushes to the woman who stepped out from the driver's side, I glance at Gemini and ask, “Do we know who they are?”

“Nope, not a clue,” he answers. We both take our fight stance. Arms stubbornly crossed across our chest, our legs wide and our feet planted on the concrete floor. Once the women break free from their hug, I notice the woman who made Finley do the happy dance introduce her to the other woman. After those introductions are made, Finley grabs her ‘friends’ hand and drags her over to us.

“Guys! Remember I told you that one of the Blackfeet women helped me once when I was hiking?”

“I recall something about that,” I remark, my eyes still trained on the females. I don’t know them so I’m cautious about how I interact with them here.

Finley narrows her eyes on me and says, “Don’t be a jackass, Merc.”

“Not being a jackass, wildcat. This is me being who I am,” I counter.

“Well… stop it,” she hisses.

“Can’t stop being who I am,” I remind her.

She harrumphs before stating, “We’ll work on it.” I hold back the roll of my eyes because that’ll get her temper flaring. And whereas I like her sass, I prefer it when we’re not in the company of strangers. A smile plays on my lips as I remember the night before; she took no prisoners and gave as good as she got. Personally, I want to take her back to the house and have a repeat performance.

Unfortunately, there’s work to be done, as well as two females who have shown up unannounced and unexpectedly.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FOUR

Finley

I don’t know what’s eating Mercury, but I ignore that since I’m excited to see the woman who all but rescued me on that trail so many months ago when I got turned around and ended up getting lost. I decide to hash it out with him later when we’re alone, because his behavior is horrid and unacceptable as far as I’m concerned.

“Gemini,” I say, changing the course of who I’m speaking with and continue, “This is Paloma and her sister, Lelanie. They’re part of the Blackfeet tribe. Daniel sent them here to talk to us.” Aiming my eyes at Mercury, I expound on my warning, “So be nice!”

“I’m always nice,” Gemini says, defending himself.

“That wasn’t meant for you,” I whisper. “It was meant for the man whose face has gone stone cold.”

“My face is not stone cold… it’s cautious,” Mercury argues.

Slapping my hands on my thighs, I release a growl. “You’ll have to excuse him,” I tell the sisters. “He was raised in a barn and has the manners of a mule.”