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My face looks okay, but my back-up wig isn’t my finest and he’s already seen me with my wig cap on… Fuck!
Half the reason I’m in this bathroom is so I can come up with something to say to this man. His fuckingwolvesstart barking outside and I flinch, clutching the sides of the sink and trying to steady my breath. I’ve never lived with any animals before and I’ve certainly never lived with any blue-eyed wolves like these.
I wish I packed Lachelle in my suitcase.
Me:He has wolves.
Lachelle:WOLVES?!
Me:BLUE-EYED WOLVES
Lachelle’s triflingass sends me a picture of one of those wolves. I shriek and drop my phone in the sink before picking it back up and slowly making eye contact with the photograph.TERRIFYING.
Lachelle:Like this? That’s a husky.
Damn right,those dogs are husky. They have husky ass teeth too.
Me:Husky indeed. Those motherfuckers look like they bite.
Lachelle:You’re just having cold feet. They’re fine.
Me:He’s sexy, Lachelle. I’m fucked.
Lachelle:Stay calm. He saw your pics so he’s obviously attracted to you.
That’s not the problem.I expected some old man trapped in Alaska who had never even seen a baddie before to fall for me. What I didn’t expect was for this man to look like a goddamned giant and lumberjack blended into one insanely sexy human. He makes my pussy tingle.But he must be crazy as hell.
Augustine. That’s an old man’s name, not the name of a sexy lumberjack.
I’ve been in the bathroom too long. That pillar of muscle will get suspicious and maybe he’ll bring out a gun.I shudder to think.
“Trinity? You okay in there?”
Two sharp barks follow Augustine’s words. I stifle a terrified yelp. I hear him tell the dog to hush but thinking about facing that wolf again terrifies the fuck out of me. But I can’t avoid him forever. He’s already onto me.
“I’m fine!” I call out, trying to sound calm, but sounding like a shrill red-tailed hawk.Damn it.
He doesn’t respond. I open the door and let out a little yelp. Not because of the dog this time but because of my new husband being so damn close. So much for sounding put together. That man is so goddamn big. Of course, his gaze jumps straight to my head. Yes, white man. You met me with 22 inch wavy black hair, then saw me a little bit bald and now I have on an 18-inch golden brown ombré wig. Welcome to your new life.
“How was the flight?” he asks in a gruff voice. Is this supposed to be his effort at making conversation?
“Completely fine. I’m Trinity.” I try to sound as confident as possible. I can’t tell if it works. As much as Augustine is trying to analyze me, I’m trying to analyze him. What sort of man looks likethatand can’t get a woman on his own? He must be crazier than a motherfucker and I’m in over my head.
“Yes,” he says, giving me another once over. “I’m Augustine. But we already know that. Welcome to your new home.”
The Lockwood home.At least he has a nice last name. If he had a last name like Twocock or Buttigieg. (No offense to the man, I just don’t like the name.) I glance around the home, giving Augustine the validation he wants so he doesn’t eat me. It’s definitely masculine, but the place is pretty nice. It’s like a fancy log cabin, with some of the most horrifying masculine decor I’ve ever seen.
He has a fireplace, which would be a nice touch, but then he has several taxidermied animal heads above it. There’s a giant moose withhugeantlers, a bear head, a water buffalo, and then a polar bear-skinned rug which I hope toGodis fake. There are snowshoes hanging from the walls, a pair of canoe oars and all these Native American blankets on the furniture.
The dogs whine, snapping me back into the moment and reminding me that Augustine expects a response from me.
“It’s nice,” I respond, glancing around, careful not to make eye contact with the terrifying beasts at Augustine’s side. They each have dog beds in the living room – Creed and Flurry. Where did he get those dog names?Hm.
The dogs arehugeand they won’t stop staring at me. The three of them have matching blue eyes, which only makes me more terrified. Augustine must realize I’m a little uneasy around the dogs because I refuse to take another step forward towards my luggage. I don’t want to set them off and have them play fetch with my forearm.
“Sorry about the dogs,” Augustine says. “I can take you up to the bedroom if you want to put your things away. They’ll stay away from you..”
Thebedroom. So I don’t get my own room? Crap. I knew expecting a geezer with erectile dysfunction was too much to ask for. He has to be a red-blooded giant who expects me to sleep in the same bed with him.
