Anti-Stepbrother(50)

His eyes darkened, and his hand jerked. Then he lingered on the leather jacket. “Really?”

“Why not? You think you’re the only cool one around these parts?” I pulled it tight, knowing it’d emphasize my boobs a little more. “I’ve recently been told I’ve got hot tits.”

Caden laughed, his hand coming to the small of my back.

The girl noticed that too. Her mouth turned down in a pout.

“Come on. Marcus just called. He’s getting worked up that we’re not there already.” Caden nodded to the other two. “I’ll see you guys later.”

The guy fist bumped him saying, “What are you doing later tonight?” He indicated the girl with him. “Felicia and I were thinking of checking out a Mexican place in town. It’s not new, but it’s new to us.”

“Yeah.” The girl moved in. “My sister told me about it. It’s one of those hidden gems. She goes there all the time now. Diego’s—that’s what it’s called.” She touched Caden’s arm. “You should come.”

You. Not you guys.

I had visions of yanking her hand off of him and stuffing it down her throat, but Caden stiffened and pulled away, saving me the trouble. His tone was noticeably chilly. “No, thank you.” His hand pulled me tighter against him. “We’ve got plans anyway.”

I waited until we got in the Land Rover. “That’s your spot.”

“I know.” His jaw clenched. “I get territorial over things I love.”

A tingle went down my back.

I reacted to the possessiveness in his voice, the knowledge that he’d protect a place or person no matter what. He was a damned live fairy tale, someone who’d love and care for you, who was capable of protecting you—that’s why my stomach was doing flips again.

Not for any other reason. That’s what I told myself.

I sighed, pressing my hands together. I sucked at lying, even to me.

He glanced over with a smile. “You do have hot tits, by the way.”

I preened. “Damn straight.”





“Okay.” The leader stood on the bed of his truck and clapped his hands over his head. “Listen up, everyone.”

No one was really listening, though they had dressed right. Everyone was all in black. A few guys wore ski masks, and others had black marks on their cheeks like football players. Personally, I didn’t understand the need for the black camouflage. Caden had explained that the cops had already been looped in on the operation. A few of the lawns getting flocked tonight actually belonged to cops, and anyway the whole blending-with-the-night effect didn’t work when you were carrying a bright neon-pink flamingo.

Still, I couldn’t deny the little spark of excitement building in my stomach.

We were all standing in some guy’s driveway, and as I looked around, I seemed to be the only girl. These guys meant business. I was in the middle of a real life Call of Duty operation.

The leader began speaking, his voice booming. “This is going to happen with precision and professionalism. No lingering, loitering, acting like stupid shits, and definitely no joking around. We’re not ladies. This isn’t going to be run like a bunch of pansy-shopping, pink-nail-polish pussies. You got that?!”

I frowned, tucking my nails inside my jacket.

“Every vehicle’s been filled with birds. The driver should have a text with all the locations, and the number of birds for each target. Pull up, find the group of birds labeled for that house, and work together. Take one bird a trip, two if you can manage, and ram those suckers down in the grass. Hurry back to the truck and keep going until all the birds for that location are in the ground. Shotgun Sally is in charge of hanging the sign on the bird closest to the street. Once the sign is hung, get back in the truck, and move to the next target. NO TALKING! This mission is all radio silent. Communicate with signals, and if you don’t know the appropriate signals, just SHUT THE HELL UP! Okay? Now, go flock some fuckers!”

Caden laughed under his breath.

I tensed.

The leader’s gaze snapped to us, but he lifted his head in greeting when he saw it was Caden. “All right, guys,” he said. “Get going.” He jumped off his truck.

Caden tugged on my sleeve. “Let’s roll out.”

I tried to hop out and help with the flamingos at the first house, but the guys moved too fast. A second vehicle had come with us to make things go as fast as possible. By the time I got one flamingo in the ground, Caden was at my side asking where the sign was.

Apparently I was Shotgun Sally.

I found a folder in the Land Rover, and I hurried to hang one of the signs: “You have been flocked by your friendly neighbors. Please don’t disturb. All birds will be removed within 24 hours and moved to their next nesting home.” A phone number was attached for further information, and the bottom noted that all proceeds would go to the Brain Injury Awareness Association.