I turn into my parents’ humble neighborhood where the trailers are small but neat and the lawns are tidy and green. Well, all except ours. Daddy is in some kind of argument with the neighbors catty-corner to us, and he’s refused to cut the grass ever since. I couldn’t tell you why, and he won’t talk about it. These days, Mama and I just shrug it off and gently offer to trim the blades of green down ourselves, and hopefully the subsequent animosity, but Daddy just ain’t there yet. I’m givin’ it another month or so.
Pullin’ up, I park behind a gray SUV that’s too nice to belong to anyone in this part of town, and I wonder if the neighbors are bein’ investigated by the feds again or if maybe someone around here has some well-to-do relative that stopped by to see how the other side lives.
I turn the Jeep off and climb out, cussin’ at the swelterin’ heat and humidity as it tries to cling to me on my walk from my car to the front door of my parents’ trailer.
“I’m home,” I say as I pull open the screen door and hang my keys on the hook next to the front door. “Don’t worry, Mama, your second favorite church hat is safe, because I handled Patty the Prat in my own special little way,” I call out with a mischievous smile.
I look over and freeze in my tracks at who I see sittin’ at the table.
My startled gray gaze lands on yellow hair and a chiseled body with lavender-colored skin, the watercolor tattoos of flowers runnin’ up his arms and dippin’ into the sleeves of his T-shirt and peekin’ out on the sides of his neck. Butterscotch eyes take me in as movement to his right catches my eyes next. White and gray skin, black hair, and ash-colored eyes brighten as they settle on mine, and every alarm bell inside of me rings in warnin’.
They’re here.
And from the looks of things, I’ve either officially lost my mind, or somehow, they spiked my mama’s lemonade from breakfast, because they look just as strange as before. Sexy as hell, yeah, but strange.
No matter what, I’m screwed two ways to Sunday.
6
“Medley, you’re back!”
My eyes swing to my mama. She’s sittin’ at the kitchen table with both men, and to say that they don’t fit in this trailer is an understatement. The small space seems even smaller now with them propped against the Formica table, surrounded by pale yellow walls and the smell of Mama’s favorite citrus cleaner.
Protective instincts immediately kick in. Snappin’ out of my shocked stupor, I hurry over to my mama and take a protective stance in front of her as I glare down at the pair that I really hoped I would never see again. I may not remember what went down at the bar, but somethin’ did, and this ain’t right.
Another thing that ain’t right? The fact that they still look the way I remember last night, one like a watercolor paintin’ and the other like a kitchen countertop, and yet...I can’t deny that they’re checkin’ off all the boxes in the sexy column.
Strong arms, angled jawlines, plush lips, bunched shoulders, and enough heat in their eyes to fire up the stove. I can’t seem to look away from them. Which is dangerous. Very, very dangerous. These two guys aren’t...normal, and I know that attraction should be the last thing I’m feelin’, but I can’t pump the brakes on it.
“What are you doin’ here?” I demand, my body poised in front of Mama, my emotions and worries all over the place.
I get a whack on the hip. “Medley Bell, where are your manners?” Mama scolds. “Sit down,” she orders, and I feel her get to her feet behind me.
“Mama—” I try to snag her arm and pull her back behind me, but she just swats at me again and heads to the fridge. “Sit down, HB, and I’ll pour you some sweet tea. You boys want some too?”
The marble-skinned man tips his chin, a friendly smile spreadin’ over his sculpted face. My eyes immediately take in his straight white teeth. I wonder idly what it would be like for those teeth to nibble my neck or scrape against my...nope. No. Stop thinkin’ about sex, Medley, and focus on Marble Man. Flint, I recall, my memories filterin’ in. His name is Flint.
“No, ma’am, I wouldn’t want to trouble ya.”
“Nonsense, I insist,” Mama gushes.
Flint grins at my mutinous expression. He’s takin’ advantage of Mama’s Southern hospitality to get on friendly terms. “In that case, yes, I’d love some sweet tea, ma’am.”
Mama titters and then clangs around in the cupboards to pull out cups, but I keep a stony-eyed glare on the men.
“I asked you a question,” I say, keepin’ my voice as low as a whisper so Mama doesn’t interrupt to harp on me about manners again. “What are you doin’ here?”
The man who signed for the delivery yesterday, Alder, drags his butterscotch eyes up my exposed legs, all the way to the short hem of my shorts before he looks up and finds my face.
My cheeks warm from his obvious perusal, and I try to think about cold things like ice and snow in an effort to keep a blush from spreadin’, but I fail miserably, even goin’ so far as to peruse them right back. I can’t help it. I’ve never been so magnetically attracted to someone before, and I’m feelin’ the pull with both of them. I have never seen anyone as sexy, and there are two of them!
As my eyes graze over these two...whatever they are, I don’t see any signs of a fight or bruises or anythin’ like that, so things must not have moved into a physical altercation last night. Although, that doesn’t make me feel better,
