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“I really wish I could get out of your way because I don’t want to die,” I started, trying to smile but probably cringing a little too much to make it believable. “But I’m supposed to be the lookout guy right now. At least, I think I am. I’m honestly not really sure. But just to be safe, I really can’t let you go inside.”
“Lookout guy?” he repeated, only to glance out into the yard and swerve back to scowl harder at me. “Is someone robbing me?”
“What? No. Of course not.” I mean, unless he figured someone stealing his girl was basically like being robbed.
“Then someone’s inside with Connie?” he countered a little too perceptively, totally reading my facial expression.
I had to pause a moment over the word Connie. And, huh, you know, that was probably a better nickname for her than Hot Constance. I was going to start calling her Connie from here on out.
“Connie?” I repeated on a small cringe.
Maverick’s face turned a bright angry red. “Is she messing around with another fucking loser? I warned her—”
“Hey,” I broke in. “He’s not a loser. I’ll have you know, Tri—”
“Get out of my way.”
As he reached past me and grasped the door handle, I pressed back against the door with all my weight. “No! Please don’t hurt him. He’s one of the few friends I have. Hell, he’s like family.”
But Maverick was bigger and stronger and managed to open the door a few inches, propelling me toward him before I could dig my feet in and shove the door closed again. Then I started knocking on it like crazy, to alert Trick to the inevitable interruption.
Wrap it up and pull your pants back on, bud. You’ve got company.
“He’s a really good guy, I swear. Hey, I could pay you. Do you like money?”
Behind me, the door was shoved open from within.
With Maverick yanking from this side and whoever was pushing from the other, I went sprawling forward, straight into his chest with an oomph.
He lost his balance and tumbled backward, and we fell together, landing on the floorboards of the porch, with him on the bottom, me on top.
My favorite position.
“Sorry, sorry,” I immediately gushed.
Lifting up to check on him before I even bothered crawling off his mountain of a body, I tried to ignore how scintillating it felt for all of me to be pressing against all of him, but pretty much failed. Because, wow. Can we say solid muscle, ladies and gentlemen? I mean, I think his muscles had muscles.
I wanted to touch every single one of them.
Or lick them.
Either way.
But maybe later. In my dreams.
For now, however…
“Are you okay?” I finally had the presence of mind to ask.
All he did was wince up at the ceiling of the porch and mutter an irritated, “Ouch.”
“What the hell?” I heard behind me. “Kid?”
That was totally Trick’s voice. With an apologetic cringe, I glanced over my shoulder to him and some woman standing in the open doorway, gaping down at us. No doubt, this was Hot Const—er, I mean, Connie.
“Oh, hey,” I started conversationally, and I finally began to scurry off the mountain man. Only to realize, “Thank God!” I blew out a relieved breath and grinned at my bud. “You’re dressed.”
“Why in the world would I not be dressed?” Trick asked as he stepped out and gripped my upper arm, helping me the rest of the way up.
