This is the first chapter of my romance novel set on the Cape. It's been rewritten three or four times, but I am finally happy with it. Hope you enjoy
Chapter 1
I lugged my laundry up the basement
steps and through the kitchen. My two hundred pound mutant sheepdog, Mop, stood
in my way while I juggled the basket and tried to open the back door. I noticed
a pair of Scooby Doo boxers had found their way into my laundry. Two days of
living with James and I felt like I had known him for weeks. He reminded me of
my brothers.
I managed to get the back door open
and stepped out onto the tufts of crab grass that made up the back yard. A
stockade fence bordered the space and allowed me to sunbathe topless when the
mood struck me. The clothesline was strung between two trees in the yard. I
tried to hang my laundry until it was too cold. There was nothing like the
smell of line dried clothes despite the fact that it made jeans stiff enough to
walk on their own. Seeing as it was only mid-September, I would be using the
line for a while longer.
I set my basket on the ground,
wincing as my bare feet found a rock. The pair of cut-off sweatpants that ended
just below my knees had slipped down to expose the top of my butt. I was out of
clean underwear, hence the laundry. I was wearing my ratty uncomfortable bra
with a tank top over it. There was a built in bra in the shirt but the flimsy
elastic didn’t have the strength to hold up my C luggage. Between the shirt and
the old bra my breasts were behaving somewhat.
Mop lazily loped after a squirrel
while I hung my clothes on the line. I made sure to hang jeans and shirts on
the front string so I could hide my underwear on the next one. I had fashion
sense only slightly better than that of an adolescent boy, but I had a pension
for sexy underwear. I wanted to keep said underwear out of James’s view. He had
enough ideas in his head without me giving him pretty pictures.
I hung everything but the underwear
when Mop started barking. I told him to shut up. He shifted his head in my
direction and his eyes caught on my laundry. He loped over and stuck his head
into my basket. He pulled his head out and grinned at me, a lacy pink thong
hanging out of his mouth.
“Damnit, Mop. Drop it!” I ordered.
Sensing a great game in the making,
the lunatic dog bounced away from me. I gave chase. He was old, how fast could
he really go? He ran in tight circles around me, panting happily and staying
just out of reach.
“I’m going to skin you and make you
into a rug,” I yelled at his fluffy butt as he evaded my grasp. I lunged for
him, lost my balance when I missed and slipped onto my ass. I produced a
creative string of profanity that died suddenly when I noticed the pair of work
boots that were planted about two inches from my bare feet. I looked up at the
gigantic man who was standing over me. He was a wall of broad chest and thick
arms wrapped in a t-shirt and worn jeans. I felt like an unlucky quarterback
about to be clobbered by a runaway tackle.
Mop had noticed the man standing
there and bounced over. He barked his greeting, dropping my lacy pink thong
onto the man’s boots. I glared at the dog.
“You are so dead,” I muttered.
I looked up at the man again. Maybe
it was the fact that I was sitting on the ground that made him look so big. His
body was impressive, but I realized who he was when I looked at his face. He
was a bigger, bolder version of James. His brown hair wasn’t styled and he let
it grow long enough to brush the collar of his shirt. His eyes were green
instead of blue but the shape of them was the same. He wore a full beard that
was neatly trimmed and only made him look more primal. I swallowed hard.
“Problem with your dog, M’am?” he
said. His voice sent a stab of pure lust through me. It was deep and thick, two
words that came to mind along with associated nasty thoughts. James adjusted
his drawl to the situation. He toned it down to blend in, and blasted it when
he was flirting. His brother, who had to be the man standing over me, was
obviously not the kind of man to play those kinds of games. His voice was pure
Georgia and was far too close to a caress than a voice should have been.
I snatched the lacy pink panties off
of his boot and held them behind my back as I scrambled to my feet. I knew I
was blushing like an idiot and my long brown hair had fallen out of its clip
while I chased Mop. I went to push my hair back forgetting about the thong in
my hand. I quickly returned my hand behind my back but his eyes had caught on
the pink.
“Hi,” I said as brightly as I could.
“You must be Zach.”
“Zachary Cutter, M’am.” He offered
his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bodel.” He mispronounced my name. I’d
heard a variety of attempts at it, but he was the first to pronounce it Bod-el.
“It’s Bodel, actually. And I prefer
Bo.”
“Sorry, M’am.”
I sighed, hating being called M’am.
It’d taken me several reminders to get James to stop doing so, but I had a bad
feeling Zach wouldn’t abandon his manners as easily.
“Try it,” I suggested.
He raised a dark eyebrow in
question.
“Say Bo.”
He looked down at me, crossing his
arms. Now that I was standing I couldn’t pretend that he only seemed big. I was
five six but he was about a foot taller. I was used to big guys but he was the
first one who had ever made me feel small. He was the only one who had ever
made me feel feminine.
“James said you were a handful,”
Zach said.
I couldn’t stop myself. I looked
down at my breasts that were on display in the low cut tank top. “I’m two.”
He didn’t smile. This was definitely
not going as smoothly as I hoped.
I put on my waitress smile and
blasted the charm. “I didn’t realize you were going to be here today. James
said you weren’t gonna get here till tomorrow.”
“I got an earlier flight.”
He wasn’t giving me much to go on.
He looked at me with a mix of befuddlement and distaste. James had warned me
that Zach could come off as abrasive and cold. I hadn’t thought he was serious.
How could two brothers be so completely different? I needed him to like me. If
I couldn’t find a way to appease him, he’d tell me to pack my stuff and sell
the house out from under me. Recently inherited or not, it was still his house
to do with as he pleased.
I blasted the charm again, though
I’d always been more comfortable with sarcasm than courtesy. “Well, welcome to
Cape Cod. I have to finish hanging the laundry, but I was going to make James
some lunch before I headed to work. Are you hungry?”
He looked at me a minute the way
most people would look at a jigsaw puzzle. I liked the color of his eyes. They
were a shade of dark green I had never seen before. For a man with no sense of
humor he was still extremely attractive. It was a shame.
“You don’t need to trouble yourself,”
he said.
“It’s no trouble. I’m making food
anyway.”
“Alright. I’d appreciate a meal,
thank you M’am.”
“My name is Bo.”
The corner of his mouth turned up
the slightest bit. I was sure I could pry a smile from him if I put my mind to
it.
“Say it,” I suggested.
He raised an eyebrow at me.
“Will it kill you to say my name?”
“No, M’am.”
I glared at him and reached out to
poke him in his barrel chest. It wasn’t until after I had done so that I
realized I was still holding the pink thong. I whirled around to hide my blush,
but not before I saw him smile. I muttered some profanity and finished hanging
the laundry. I hung the pink thong on the front line prominently displayed
against a white t-shirt. If I was going to make an ass of myself I was going to
do it big.
