So Toxic(Bad Boy Next Door Book 4)(268)

Her.

My groin tightens. Please let it be Lou. Maybe she changed her mind.

It’s Lou all right. But from the scowl on her face, I’m fairly certain she hasn’t decided to give me a suck or a fuck. Damn.

Doesn’t matter what expression she wears—with her caramel skin, long, dark curls, and those sage green eyes, she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

I step outside and close the door behind me. No sense in letting the camera crew know there might be something worth filming here. The last thing I want is them figuring out that Lou and I have more than just a passing connection.

“Hello, Loula Mae. Imagine you showing up on my doorstep looking for lil’old me.”

She crosses her arms over those full tits and lifts one eyebrow, giving me the once-over.

She glances at the bodyguard blocking the stairs to the front porch. “What’s with the muscle?”

“Just there to keep the photographers at bay. Paparazzi can be a real pain in the nads.”

“Oh, yeah…I forgot that you’re a rising star these days. Well, they almost didn’t let me near the door.”

I turn to Thug One and Thug Two. “Hey, can you guys take a walk around the perimeter or something? I need a couple of minutes.”

Thug Two nods. “Sure thing, Boss.”

Thug One tips the bill of his ball cap to Lou.

She rolls her eyes. “Boss? That’s just fucking weird.”

“What’s weird is that beautiful mouth dropping cusswords like that. The Loula Mae I remember didn’t curse much.”

“That Loula Mae is buried in the dirt at Paris Island. Sweated and bled out during thirteen weeks of hell, which is exactly what I wanted. I left on a mission to reinvent myself.” She lifts her chin a notch or two. “The new and improved Lou stands before you.”

“Well, I liked the original Lou.” Everything about her.

She narrows her eyes. “Sure you did. That’s why you left her here while you ran off to California to chase your dreams and never looked back, or called—not once.”

I cringe. “Not fair—you and I agreed, and that was the plan—”

She throws up her hand. “Just forget it. I came over because Aunt Delores wants to know if you’ve got a dick. I told her you are one, but I’m not really sure if you still have one.”

“Is that right?” The humor of Delores wanting to know what I’ve got tucked into my jeans takes me by surprise, and a chuckle bursts out.

I flick open the button at my waistband. “You can assure her, I’m well equipped for whatever task may be necessary.”

“Don’t bother. I’ve seen it; I don’t need to see it again.”

Her mouth says she doesn’t want it, but her eyes can’t seem to leave my open fly. I zip up and push the button back through the hole. “You change your mind, just let me know. Until then, what does sweet Delores need?”

Lou turns to leave, calling over her shoulder, “She wants some help with a plumbing problem and won’t let me call an actual plumber. So, if you wouldn’t mind bringing some tools over and helping her out, she’d appreciate it.”

Plumbing. Tools. Lou.

God bless Delores Dubois.

Back at the table, I settle in to finish my sandwich.

Nan pats my arm. “So, what did Loula Mae want?”

Trudi and the crew turn their attention to me.

Fuck.

I’m an actor. Okay, so act damn it. Be nonchalant. “Apparently Delores has a plumbing issue she needs help with. I’ll go over after lunch.”

Trudi perks up. “Oh, that’ll be perfect. We can get footage of you doing some manly work, helping out your neighbor. That’ll be great stuff. You think this Delores lady will sign a release?”

My stomach plummets to my ass.

Pops pipes up. “Oh, I bet Delores would be tickled.”

I throw him a look. He shrugs.

I shake my head. “No, y’all can stay here and interview Nan and Pops while I’m next door. It probably won’t take long. Delores is a live-wire, you may not even be able to use the footage. No telling what’ll come out of that mouth.”

Trudi’s eyes practically sparkle. “Even better. I’ll head over after I eat and see if I can get her to sign a waiver.”

Fucking great. Just what I need, them getting Loula Mae on camera. Who knows what she’ll say, or do? Especially after her little suck or fuck speech earlier. It’s obvious she’s still pissed.

What the fuck was I thinking? I can’t believe I let Bob talk me into doing this Celebrity Homecoming show. Managers. What the hell do they know anyway?

This was supposed to be easy. A reality show to help people see the real me and increase my fan base. A few weeks at home, visiting old hangouts, talking with some high school buddies, seeing my elementary teachers. Maybe even checking in on a couple of old girlfriends. Let them meet the family, see where I came from.