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He’s pure fucking sunshine.
“I need you to stop eye-fucking that angry dude and come help me with these milk containers.” He gestures toward some pallets and sighs. “I’m far too weak to lift these. I need your big, ole muscles.”
Jimbob snorts a laugh and moves toward him, handing Ryan the kitten before bending over and giving everyone the pleasure of seeing his ass stretch out those denim overalls. Just a bigbubble butt. Probably from all that squatting he does all day. What I wouldn’t give to just stick my hand on that ass cheek and squeeze.
I shake those thoughts away as Ryan sidles up next to me and waggles his eyebrows.
“A sight for very sore eyes, huh?” he says, and the kitten in his arms meows in agreement. Cute little traitor.
“No. I hate it.”
“Anyone who hates his ass hates candy.”
“I hate candy,” I reply, and he scoffs.
“Sure, and I hate dick. You, my man, are delusional. Because trust me, I’ve felt that ass and it’s nice. It even jiggles.”
I almost growl, despite having no reason to feel territorial of Jimbob. He’s not mine. I just kissed him a few times. A mistake I shouldn’t have made. Every single time.
“When have you touched his ass?” Why did I ask him that? I don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me. It’s just weird, that’s all. Why is he talking about his brother’s ass?
“Last night. In his bed,” Ryan says with a smile and then waggles his eyebrows again, the ring in the right one bouncing up and down as he does it. I hate that Ryan and I should be friends. The two of us don’t fit in here—we’re equally the oddballs and should commiserate, and yet, I can’t stand the guy.
He just rubs me the wrong way.
He was in Jimbob’s bed.
That should be illegal.
“Why were you sleeping in his bed?” I manage to get out, my hands fisted in my sweater pockets. I can feel the reindeer ornament inside, smiling at me. Smug fucker.
Ryan doesn’t answer, and my attention turns to Jimbob as he bends over once more, my eyes falling to his ass again. A nice big peach. One I’d like to take a bite of. Hypothetically.
Not that I’m gonna do that. I’m not. Never again.
“Look at those fresh hot buns, Jimbobadoodle!” Ryan screeches and then places his fingers in his mouth for a loud catcall.
He’s uncouth. A real heathen. Kansas should kick him to the curb. He’s too rude for this place.
Jimbob looks over his shoulder, his biceps straining from the weight of the crate in his arms, and winks at Ryan. Really fucking winks. My fists are so tight, my knuckles crack.
He kissed me.Me. And yet here he is, winking at Ryan. His stepbrother.
Ryan waggles his eyebrows at me and then catcalls again, the kitten in his arms joining in, meowing loudly. Both are awful creatures—just harassing scum bags.
“He likes to be complimented,” Ryan says, nudging me and making me stumble to the side. “Makes him real happy.”
“Wouldn’t compliments make anyone happy?”
“Not me. I hate them.”
I stare at Ryan as he hands the kitten to me and bounds after Jimbob, smacking him on the ass, and I watch as his cheek actually bounces. Fuck. He was right. It does jiggle.
The kitten in my hand meows at me, clawing at my arm as it climbs up onto my shoulder, and I just let it. I’m too busy watching as Ryan squeezes Jimbob’s bicep and then bites down on it, making Jimbob grunt in surprise.
Ryan’s always fucking biting him. It pisses me off. He should keep his teeth to himself.
“Does he always do this shit?” I ask the kitten, and she just meows, her little ears fluttering in the wind.
