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“I suggest you move the hell out of my way.”
“Or what?” Tucker’s face was dark. “You gonna take a swing at me?”
“You can count on it.”
“Go ahead. One shot to your shoulder and I’ll have you on the ground crying like a baby.”
“Fuck you,” Teague retorted, words barely discernable because he was so damn angry.
“Oh. ”
At first Teague wasn’t sure who’d spoken. But then Tucker looked past him and said, “shit.”
That was followed by another “oh” and a round of furious whispering. Teague glanced over his shoulder and spied the twins perched on the top step. He was breathing heavy and had to take a moment because he wasn’t sure he could speak through his anger.
In the end it didn’t matter because Harry piped up first.
“The F-word is so bad.”
“Like it’s the worst word ever,” his sister Morgan said, nodding her head in agreement before stepping onto the deck.
Bingo darted past the kids, barking like a champ and scratching at the patio door. Teague knew the damn thing wouldn’t stop the racket until…
The door slid open and Abby appeared, a wide smile on her face as she bent over to rub Bingo behind his ears. “Hey little guy,” she murmured and then tossed a box at Teague. “I’m guessing this is what your friend is looking for?”
Tucker walked past him, glancing at the doggie treat package in Teague’s hands as he did so.
“Since when do you own a dog?” Tucker asked.
Teague ignored his brother and opened the box so that he could grab two biscuits. He knew by now that one didn’t cut it with the little rug rat.
“Bingo is mine,” Harry said.
“Mommy says that you shouldn’t complain about Bingo pooping on your deck since you’re the one giving him treats.” That was from Morgan. The little girl skipped over to Teague and smiled at Abby. “You’re pretty.”
“Thank you,” Abby replied.
“You’re almost as pretty as my mommy, right Tigger?”
“Tigger?” his brother repeated.
“Don’t even…” hHe said through gritted teeth, glowering at Tucker.
He fed the damn dog his biscuits (why in hell he’d bothered to buy them the other day was anyone’s guess) and glanced at his watch.
It was just shy of eight a.m. He had a headache. He was thoroughly pissed off. And he hadn’t even had his second cup of coffee yet.
Was it too early for a do over?
Chapter Eight
Sabrina spent most of the day in town. It had been forever since she’d had some time to herself and she made the most out of it. She shopped for the odds and ends needed for the twins upcoming birthday and visited several local antique stores to browse, something she hadn’t done in ages. She ran a few errands—the post office and the drug store—and then on impulse walked into the local salon.
Her feet were in bad shape—her fingers were even worse—and luckily there were a few cancellations to accommodate her. So as Sabrina sat there enjoying a foot massage, she let one of the stylists talk her into dark burgundy highlights. The stylist, Breanne, also insisted that Sabrina would look fabulous sporting the new trendy bang look, and after a slight hesitation, Sabrina let the girl have at it. Whatever. It was hair and if it looked like crap, it would grow back.
She read a couple gossip magazines and wasn’t surprised that members of the Simon family were in both of them. She shook her head with a wry smile. Cooper Simon was quite the ladies man and apparently he liked them married.
“What did I tell you?”
