CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CJ
Will Turner: “This is either madness, or brilliance.”
Jack Sparrow: “It’s remarkable how often those two traits coincide.”
- Pirates of the Caribbean
“So I assume the reason you’re smiling like a lovesick puppy is because you finally got laid?”
Liam shot me a taunting grin. I shoved the beer bottle I’d just retrieved from the fridge into his hand as roughly as I could without spilling it.
“You’re such an ass.”
We were at my mom’s house. I’d called all the guys - Liam, Malcolm, Sebastian and Reed - and asked them to come over and help me with some renovations I was doing to surprise my parents for their fiftieth anniversary that was coming up in a few weeks. They were away for the weekend, following up with a specialist out of town. Ever since dad’s stroke, they’d made sure to see his doctors regularly to watch for any signs of another looming around the corner.
Liam, Reed and I had just finished ripping up the old, faded linoleum in the kitchen and were taking a break before starting to install the cherry-stained hardwood flooring I’d bought to replace it. Josi had to work that morning, so she wouldn’t be over to help until the next day. Clara had just left, throwing out a vague excuse that involved Blake, though she refused to give me more information. I sat there, staring at my phone like a pussy, waiting for Blake to respond to the text I’d just sent.
Me: Why is my sister meeting you? Is everything okay?
Clara had assured me there was no emergency, but I needed to hear it from Blake. Why was I so fucking worried for no obvious reason? That, I did not care to answer.
Finally, a little bubble appeared, those three little dots bouncing around until her message eventually came through.
Blake: Yes, everything is fine. Quit being so nosey. And send me a picture of you with your shirt off, all sweaty with some dirt smudged across your skin.
I laughed out loud. Then ignored the way Liam and Reed’s head snapped over to gawk at me and the foreign noise they’d just heard come from my mouth.
Me: Why? Going to use it to get yourself off later? You know I’d be happy to do that for you.
Blake: Ha! No. I planned to use it as your profile picture on all the dating sites I signed you up for last week.
Me: Don’t make me come find you and spank that pretty little ass of yours.
Blake: Promises, promises…
“Dude. Quit staring at your phone like it has a magic genie inside that will finally grant your wish of making your tiny dick bigger.”
Without looking away from my phone, I flipped Reed off. Hearing him give me shit like the other guys was weird at first, but ever since the first beer, he hadn’t had trouble joining in on the mockery. Any other day it would have annoyed me, but not much could get me down. And no, it wasn’t just because I’d gotten laid. It was Blake. Accuse me of waxing poetic, and see if I gave a shit. Ever since Blake came into my life, it felt like ten tons of weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I’d happily take shit from the guys every day if each of those days had Blake in them.
“Well, we got the bathtub ripped out of the master bath,” Sebastian announced as he came down the stairs with Malcolm close behind. “Going to be a bitch to get all this done in one weekend, you know that right?”
“No shit. Why do you think I called you guys to do all the hard work for me?”
Sebastian just grunted as he helped himself to a bottle of water, handing Malcolm a sports drink after closing the fridge door.
“There a reason Seabass and me are up there sweating our asses off while you candy asses sit down here and gossip like a bunch of teenage girls?”
Bass smacked Malcolm upside the head. He hated that nickname, so naturally, it was the one that got used the most.
“We were just taking a break, asshole,” Liam mumbled petulantly. I swear, sometimes I thought Liam and Malcolm were brothers that had been separated at birth. Five minutes around them and you’d think they’d known each other all their lives instead of just over a year.
“So how’s it going with Blake?” Sebastian asked, ignoring the fools behind him that had jumped into a shoving match.
He and Reed followed me into the living room, leaving Tweedledumb and Tweedledumbfuck to hash out their juvenile bullshit on their own.
“Good,” I answered vaguely, taking a swig of my beer.
My phone pinged, and I pulled it from my pocket. Reed snickered.
“Shut up,” I muttered without looking up. I knew I was grinning. I couldn’t fucking help it.
Blake: Hurry up and get your manly stuff done then send everyone home to shower. Have them back at Momma Rose’s by 7 p.m.
Me: Really gets you hot thinking about me and my power tools, huh?
Blake: Nah. I’ve got a power tool of my own that gets the job done just fine.
I growled and considered bailing on the half-finished project to go home and find Blake’s power tool and torture her with it. Images that made my dick stir in my pants wouldn’t quit assaulting me. And it was really fucking bad timing. I did not need to stand up sporting a boner in front of the guys. They’d never let me live it down.
“Blake says we need to finish and clean up before seven,” I yelled loud enough for the guys in the kitchen to hear.
Liam popped his head around the corner. “What’s at seven?”
I shrugged. “No clue. She just said be here by seven.”
“That sounds like something that probably involves food,” Malcolm speculated, his tongue wagging.
“When Blake is involved, you never know what is going to happen.”
All the guys grunted in agreement and we got back to work.
Time passed quickly as we worked in tandem. By the time six rolled around, most of the hard parts were finished. All that remained was the painting and cleaning up. I sent all the guys home as instructed, telling them to get their asses back here in an hour.
Every muscle in my body felt like it had taken a beating. Based on the way everyone else groaned as they climbed into their cars, I assumed they felt the same. Funny, really, since all of us worked out rigorously on a daily basis. Then again, we had just done about a week’s worth of renovations in less than a day, so maybe I should cut myself some slack.
The trip back to my apartment was short, but felt miserably long. I had sawdust in places sawdust should never be, and it was chafing the hell out of my skin. Or maybe I was just grumpy. I didn’t want to go all the way back to mom’s tonight. I’d much rather spend several hours in bed exploring every inch of Blake’s body with my tongue than go back out. If it were anyone other than Blake making the request, I would have said hell no. And the only reason I wouldn’t have said no to Blake is just because it wouldn’t have mattered. If she wanted to plan something for everyone, nothing I said or did was going to stop her.
Plus, I didn’t like the idea of being away from her for any longer than I already had been. Seeing her every day at work and having her around constantly at home sounded like torture in the beginning. Now it felt like I didn’t know what the hell to do with myself when she wasn’t around. She was turning me into a goddamned puppy.
To further drive home the puppy comparison, the second I stepped into my apartment, my tongue fell out of my mouth and I started panting. Blake stood in the center of my living room stark naked. If I’d had a tail, it would have started wagging.
If coming home to this everyday was what it would be like to be a lap dog? Then fucking sign me up.