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“Whoever it is will go away,” I said.
It rang again. Then once more immediately after.
Fuck.
“Stay here,” I said, carefully tucking my dick back into my boxers and wincing as I worked the zipper up. Fuck the button.
After closing the door behind me, I stalked through the house, Scout circling my ankles, and threw open the front door, ready to tell off the religious cult or tree trimming service. Instead, I found my brothers. All three of them.
22
BRIDGET
* * *
When Maverick didn’t come back right away–which to me, bare-assed naked was thirty seconds or less–I ripped the bedding apart and wrapped the top sheet around me. Going to the door, I opened it a few inches.
Maverick was talking to someone. In the house from the sound of it.
“Bradley called me last night,” the man who rang the doorbell said. I knew this because it wasn’t Mav’s voice. “Recommended I fly up here and see what the fuck was up.”
“He said that?” Maverick asked.
“He left fuck out, but yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s worse than a virgin’s chaperone all up in your business.”
“I didn’t mean why he didn’t say fuck,” Maverick snapped. “Why are you here?”
“Farrah called him. Told me to tell you to call her.”
“You’re not here because of that.”
“No, but I wanted to tell you before I forgot. He sent us because of some email.”
Maverick swore long and thoroughly.
I didn’t know who Farrah was, but I couldn’t linger on that. An email? Every bit of orgasmic satisfaction was worn off and apprehension was kicking in.
“Hey, who’s this guy? Hey, buddy.”
A loud bark from Scout was followed by laughing.
“That’s Scout, my new dog,” Maverick explained.
“What?”
“You got a dog?”
That was two different guys asking questions. Not one, but two men had been at the door.
“Yes,” Maverick replied.
“What the hell’s up with his short legs? I thought Border Collies were taller than this.”
“I think his father had an affair with a Corgi,” Maverick explained.
