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“We’re going on a double date. Henley and Taryn and you and I. Didn’t Henley tell you?”
What the fuck?
My eyes flick to Henley. “No. He did not.”
My blood boils. He’s taking Taryn on a date . . . since fucking when?
“I’ve actually got a lot going on this week,” Henley replies. “We’ll have to reschedule.”
“That’s okay,” Mason replies. “Juliet and I don’t need chaperones; we can go alone. Can’t we?”
Two can play that game, asshole.
“Sure we can,” I reply. “Can’t wait, Mason.”
Henley looks at me deadpan, and I smile sweetly. You are a fuckface.
Bona fide.
“Here I am,” Taryn says in a singsong voice from the doorway. We all turn to see her in tiny cutoff denim shorts and a white bikini top. Her boobs are huge and perfect.
“It seems I don’t have any old clothes either,” she says sexily.
Or any self-respect.
I really should have bought some chloroform for my tool kit.
“Hope I’m not too distracting, boys.” She laughs.
Henley’s eyes dance with mischief as he smiles at me. “I have good news, Taryn,” he says.
“What’s that?” she says as she picks up a paintbrush.
“We’re going on a double date with Mason and Juliet in a couple of weeks.”
“Oh goody.” She jumps up and down, and her boobs bounce around like jelly.
Give me a fucking break. I stare at him deadpan, and he winks playfully.
You are going to die, fucker.
“Oh, I love this white, Juliet,” Taryn says as she paints a little. “This is going to be the best house on Kingston Lane.”
“I’m glad you like it,” I reply.
You may be buried in the backyard under the rosebush soon.
I grit my teeth as I continue to paint. I shouldn’t complain. I should be grateful.
Three very generous people are helping me paint my house.
A man who wants me to go on a date with him.
A man who I’m trying to make fall in love with me.
And a roller-skating sexiest woman alive who is putting on a private Penthouse Pet painting show.
Fuck my life.
