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Had I not seen it with my own two eyes—I would not have believed she’d be strong enough to make him budge.
But Jillian had the benefit of decades of training. And part of that training was how to body check.
Hard.
The surprised-shocked look on Beau Moreau’s face was so comical I started laughing.
Jillian wasn’t, though.
Nope.
She was madder than hell.
Beau’s huge body splashed into the pool. He quickly came up for air, soaking wet.
“Get my fucking computer, Moreau! Or your ass is grass!” Jillian’s arm shot out, and she pointed at the sunken computer now sitting at the bottom of the pool.
“Leave it alone, Jillian. It’s where it belongs. It’s finally at peace,” Beau tried to explain. He rubbed his hands on his face in an effort to clear the water dripping down it.
“Get,” Jillian bent over, “my,” she jerked her entire arm and finger at the computer, “computer!”
Beau rolled his eyes and shook his head. Then he dove underwater and retrieved the sunken wreck.
When he re-emerged with it in his hand, he swam over to the edge of the pool. “It’s gone, Jillian.” He handed it to her and sighed.
“That was not cool, Moreau.” Jillian lowered her voice. The sound of outrage was unmistakable. “You better pray this turns back on.” And with that, she spun around on her heel and stormed back to her door—the water leaking out of the computer and leaving a wet trail the whole way.
I followed her in and shut the door behind me. “Hey,” I started to say, but she immediately cut me off.
“Leave, Cash. I don’t have time for your bullshit right now.”
I walked through her living room and right to the table where she worked at. I set the bags down and watched Jillian searching her cupboards for something.
“Motherfucking, goddamn, piece of shit,” she turned around and dumped the computer onto the counter, “men!”
She’d clearly lost her mind.
Jillian rarely swore.
And I’d never heard a string of language—like that—flow out of her mouth. Yeah, she was pissed right off. I moved quickly around the island. “It’s okay,” I began, but she didn’t let me finish.
The frown on her face said it all. “I just said I don’t have time for your bullshit. What are you still doing here?”
Ouch.
If looks—and words—could kill, I’d be a goner. I held my hands up. “Jillian, sweetness,” I said and stepped closer, “it’s going to be okay. Take a breath and listen to me for a second.”
I approached her slowly, but she moved back and turned to the cupboard. “It’s not going to be,” she slammed the cupboard door so hard it even made me jump, “fine. I don’t have a fucking,” she opened a drawer and rifled through it, “computer!” she shouted and shut the drawer with so much force it bounced back open again.
“That’s what I came to tell you.”
Jillian opened another cabinet and pulled out a big bag of rice. “Thank goodness I bought a brand-new bag last week,” she said to herself. Her feet carried her across the floor to the pantry. She yanked out a plastic container.
“The freaking,” she stomped back to the bag of rice and set the container down, “nerve. I can’t believe he’d do that.”
Her fingers ripped into the bag. She picked it up and dumped the entire contents into the plastic container.
“Where does he get off doing something that mean?”
