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“What are you all doing here?” I croak, sounding like a cross between a sick bird and a dying gator, though goodness knows exactly what noise that scaly, feathery creation might make.
“We’re here!” Lennox announces proudly, waving the tux in my face. “Because you’re getting married!”
“Ding, dong, wedding bells….” Ransom adds. “Those bells ring any bells?”
“That’s today?” Right, so I texted Granny last night saying that Azalea was on board. Duly noted that Granny didn’t want to give her time to change her mind. “I mean, yes, it’s today, but why are you here so early?” I scan the room. My brothers are standing around my bed like a pack of vipers. Friendly vipers, but still, they all look like they’re ready to swallow me whole.
Atlas crosses his arms when my gaze lingers on his face. “Your goons, I mean men, are downstairs cleaning the place up. For a hackery hacker dude who doesn’t go out much, you sure have a lot of guys working for you. What do they do all day? And why are there so many? They look creepier than us.”
Orion never can let his brother get away with having all the fun. “At least we have day jobs.”
“I have a day job. And it’s because I don’t go out much that I need them. They do all the grunt work. Granny hired them. Take it up with her if you want some of your own. She got them just for this job, so it’s a temp gig. She was hiring bodyguards, and they answered.”
“But now they know everything.” Ransom draws a line across his throat.
“Yes, which is why, since none of them have family connections or things tying them down, they’ll be working with us in the future. Indefinitely.”
“Indefinitely,” Ransom echoes, drawing another line across his throat.
“No! Not that kind of indefinitely.”
“Oh, I see. This kind.” Atlas mimes stomping around with really heavy shoes.”
“No, not that kind either.”
“This kind?” Orion arches into a diver position, dives headlong onto the floor, and wriggles like a gutted fish trying to swim.
“No,” I scoff, rolling my eyes.
“This kind, then?” Lennox is going to do something. I can see him winding up.
“No!” I cut them all off. “God, I’m glad they can’t hear you. You guys are a bunch of arseholios.”
Ransom grins. “We’re just trying to work you up. We already talked to Granny about them. We all hung out last night. We’re the good guys, remember?”
“Sometimes, I wonder.”
“Ouch.” Lennox rubs his chest. “Right here, Alden. Right here. Although, I’m not sure why you get to have all the fun. Azalea is pretty. Too pretty to be your soulmate.”
At that second, I’m saved by having to answer as Ransom yanks the blankets off me, revealing me in all my almost-naked glory. I have my boxers on. Thank freaking goodness.
There’s a stunned inhale that is echoed throughout the room, and oh! Oh. Farging. Right. The whole naked chest thing is really taking my brothers aback. They’re going to have a heyday with this.
Of course, Lennox leads the charge. He can never resist the opportunity for a good joke, ribbing, or practical jesting. Are they all the same thing? Perhaps more like skewering someone on the sharpened end of the pike of his wit. That might be closer to the truth. “Wooooeeee. Going au naturel, I see.”
“What’s wrong with a little hair on the biscuit?” Atlas might appear to be on my side, but he’s got his hand pressed to his mouth to stifle a laugh.
Orion can’t let his brother have all the fun. “Fur on the fanny?”
“Got rid of the old Eau de Pelt, did you?” This, of course, is said with a gruff-sounding French accent by Ransom—the last guy I’d expect to ever try and pantomime a French accent. Around everyone else, he’s as quiet as can be. He lets his art speak for itself.
“It’s not his fanny is it, you imbecile.” Atlas points at my chest as if Orion can’t see that my midsection isn’t really my butt. “And au naturel would be with the hair, dumb ass.”
Lennox grunts, ceding the point. “You’re dressed to impress, minus the dressed. But that sparkling clean chest is quite impressive. I didn’t know you had it in you. By that, I mean I didn’t know you had nipples under all that fur.”
“Did you find buried treasure when you shaved it off? Things you’d misplaced? Your spare set of car keys?” Ransom is really getting into it now. I swear, wind them up, and the quiet ones surprise you when you least effing want it.
Orion pumps his hips obnoxiously. “Someone thinks they’re getting lucky tonight.”
“Thinks or hopes?” Atlas asks.
For the love of pink flamingos, I’m glad they don’t know that I was hoping to get lucky last night. I’m glad they don’t know any of that, actually. I know I’d never hear the end of it, let alone live down the humiliation once these guys got ahold of it. There would be enough good-natured ribbing to choke a dinosaur. And that, my friends, is why dinosaurs are extinct. Too much it’s-all-in-good-taste until someone goes extinct kind of fun.
