Page 15 of Man Cave


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“Just missed the money shot of your brother’s big dick,” she said.

I held up my hand and winced. “You’re one mean woman.”

A grin spread across her face. “Just kidding. He’s still at the site. They’re installing all of the toilets today. Literally every single one. I had no idea one man could be so excited about them.”

Leaning down, I gave Scout a pet and then joined Bridget in the kitchen.

“That’s a lot of containers,” I said, pointing to the center island.

“Well, it’swhatever-is-in-the-fridgenight. We’re leaving tomorrow for Boston and don’t want it to go to waste.”

There were a pile of to-go boxes and plastic leftover tubs spread across the counter. She opened one and peeked inside.

“They finally got the professor?” I asked.

She glanced my way, a triumphant gleam in her eye. “We had him back in September, but two other women came forward with identical stories. The asshole. We decided to join forces so all three of us can get justice.”

Just last year, Bridget had been a student at MIT and had her work stolen by one of her professors. He’d taken her thesis papers and published the findings as his, which had Bridget quickly kicked out for plagiarism. It had been her word against his. A coed versus a tenured professor at one of the most prestigious universities in the world. The situation was all kinds of fucked up, especially because she was the nicest–and smartest–woman I knew. She deserved her degree–which she hadn’t been able to finish–and the accolades that went with her data. I knew nothing about math other than what was needed for dosing patients, but she sure as hell did.

“Justice? How about revenge?”

She shrugged and a slow smile spread across her young face. I still couldn’t believe Mav had fallen for a twenty-two-year-old, but really, they were perfect for each other. He’d been clearly waiting for her, or some other romantic shit like that. When he found out what the asshole fucker had done… he’d gone ballistic. At least not in front of Bridget. He put Bradley, the assistant extraordinaire and a team of private investigators to bring the guy down. After a few months, it looked like it was about to happen.

“I want to see him kicked out and to get my work back. If Mav wants to… well, whatever dark, alpha male thoughts he’s hatched, that’s up to him.”

I had no doubt Mav had plans for the fucker. While I didn’t think Mav would have him killed, because that would be too easy and quick, the guy would probably wish he was when Mav was done. He probably wouldn’t be able to get a job teaching seals to play trumpets at the circus.

“I’m happy to help if needed,” I added, but made a mental note to let Mav know that as well. “I know what to do with dead bodies.”

A laugh ripped from her lips. “I’m sure you do. Mallory’s just as ruthless.”

I perked up at the name but didn’t let it show. Ever since she left the doctor’s office the day before, I’d been… unsettled. The idea of her having sex made me want to go all Mav and lumberjack the shit out of men in Hunter Valley who sniffed around her, let alone got his dick near her. It also made me a little crazy. Possessive, and I wasneverpossessive. I could show Mallory what it was like with a real man, not some sixteen-year-old with pre-ejaculation issues.

She hadn’t even come and that just pissed me off.

“From what I know of her, I have no doubt.” I leaned against the counter and took the lid off a container. Pasta in a cream sauce with veggies. “She joining us? There’s enough leftovers for ten people.” I scanned the options, which was like a buffet.

“Ten? Or just you and Mav,” she replied. She knew the James boys well. We were big eaters. “No, she’s got a hot date.” Bridget looked my way and waggled her eyebrows. “Dinner at The Lodge. I sorta fixed her up with the tenth-grade history teacher.”

What the fuck? Mallory moved fast. I just saw her at her appointment. I grabbed another container, opened it with a little more aggression than necessary.

“On a Wednesday? An odd night for a date.”

“A first date, not that it matters. If she hits it off with Tom on a Wednesday, then–”

I dropped the leftovers and looked at Bridget. “Tom? His name’s Tom?”

Tom was a basic name. Plain. Boring. But common. Common was good because my first appointment the day before was a Tom whose dick itched, and it burned like fire when he pissed.

“Yeah.”

I had a sinking feeling. This wasn’t Denver where there were probably a hundred Toms in a one-mile radius. This was Hunter Valley, a small town in Montana. How many fucking Toms could there be?

I had to get answers from Bridget, but I couldn’t tell her why. I couldn’t tell her shit because of privacy laws. It was one thing to not want Mallory to fuck a history teacher, it was another to prevent her from fucking one with a sexually transmitted disease.

“I know a Tom,” I murmured.

“Here in town? His last name’s Zajik, which is different and memorable, but you’ve only been here a few days and you probably mean in Colo–”

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