How to begin...

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.