Mixed Up(30)

"I really hate you."

"I know. It makes my life much more amusing." I flashed her a grin over my shoulder. "If you didn't hate me, you'd probably be fucking me."

"With a machete," she snapped. "I don't know what's worse. Being in here with your ego or out there with that crazy."

I'd found her new line.

"Be honest, Raven." I put down my knife and walked to her. "Are you telling me we wouldn't be fucking if we actually liked each other?"

Her eyes pierced mine, but the lightest flush crept up her cheeks. "I'd rather have sex with Satan than with you. Oh-wait. If I slept with you, I would be sleeping with Satan."

"That sounds like you're saying you'll fuck me anyway."

"Go outside, Parker. The heat in the kitchen is getting to you. I have better things to do than waste my time on a hate-fuck with someone like you."

I didn't know why, but I stepped closer to her.

I stepped right into her personal space, still holding eye contact, and ran my thumb down the sleek curve of her jaw. Her lips parted as she drew in a deep breath, and she raised her hand to where I was touching her.

Before she could pull my thumb away from her, I clasped her fingers in mine and murmured, "I'd hate-fuck the hell out of you on this counter, right here, right now, if I didn't think you'd alarm everyone with your screaming."

"Because you'd be coming onto me?" She batted my hand away and took a step back.

"No. Because I'd be fucking you and you'd know about it." I smirked and turned back to the salad.

Raven darted in front of me and jabbed her finger into my chest. "Talk to me like that again, and you're gonna find your balls inside that blender on the highest setting before I drown you in your own cock. I'm still your fucking boss. Are we clear, Parker Hamilton?" 

I curled my hand around hers and dropped it. "As clear as the fact you're wearing a white shirt and no bra. I'd go put one on before you head back out to your family."

She looked down at her chest and let out a whispered curse before turning away and slamming through the back kitchen door. The door bounced on the hinges a few times before finally settling against the frame. No sooner had it done that than Raven had shoved it back open, gripping it tightly, and met my eyes.

"You could have told me that three hours ago!" she snapped.

"Wasn't looking then!" I yelled as she spun and left again. Her frustrated scream reached me right before the door closed once and for all and cut it off.

I slammed the knife onto the board, just narrowly missing my finger.

What the fuck was I doing?





CHAPTER NINE

Raven





Crazy grandmother.

Randy aunt.

Inquisitive uncle.

Sexy Parker.

No fucking bra.

Check, check, check, check, motherfucking check.

I was so over today. It had to have been the worst day of my entire goddamn life. Well, that was probably an exaggeration, but it was pretty close.

The worst part was when I'd gotten dressed this morning, I hadn't even thought about putting a bra on. There wasn't one on my bed when I'd gone back upstairs to put it on after Parker had pointed it out.

I couldn't believe I'd forgotten to put a bra on and nobody had told me. What the hell was wrong with the people in my life? Not that I was complaining, exactly. It was a Saturday morning, after all, but Parker had been all up in my business with some dirty words.

Dirty words and braless weren't exactly the dream team combination when you didn't want the speaker of said dirty words to know you thought he was hot or that you were affected by him in any kind of way. Any other time, perfect. They would have been besties. But not today. Not in my life. Not in the slightest.

I adjusted my now-present bra and headed to unlock the bar door. I'd seen people hanging around by the beach before I'd come downstairs, so although it was a little early, I wanted to put the sign outside and hopefully bring some customers in.

Thank god Wes was here. He'd saved me from having to have any more conversations with Parker. I didn't know what I was supposed to say to him after this morning. He'd actually told me he'd hate-fuck me on the kitchen counter right before stepping away like he'd asked me how my freaking day was going.

What did you say to someone after that?

Did I demand an apology? Maybe I should have-maybe I should. He was my employee and he had no right talking to me like that. But he was also my brother's best friend and, well, it was the closest thing I'd had to a decent offer in a while.

By a-while, I meant six months.

My sex life was so dry it made the Sahara look like a freaking ocean.

That didn't mean what he'd said to me was okay. Never mind that the prospect of it flashed through my mind for a moment. Clearly not wearing a bra had been impairing my judgment this morning.