Lou wasn’t supposed to be in town. She was safely in California when I signed that fucking contract. Maybe she’s not staying long. That would be best.
Yeah, Fucktard. That’s what’s best, but it’s the last thing you want.
Trudi all but inhales her lunch and darts out the door before I can talk her out of this.
Fuck. My. Life.
I gather some tools. By the time I’m ready to head across the field, she’s back, all happy and waiving a piece of paper.
“I got it! She’s agreed to let us film. You guys need to prepare your gear though, there’s a lot of water over there.”
Well, hell. Maybe I’ll get lucky and Lou will be gone. Running errands, getting her nails done, picking out lipstick…well, probably not nails or lipstick, but who knows? She could be gone, off doing something. Anything.
When we arrive next door, Delores calls to Lou from inside her downstairs storage room. The guys scramble to shoulder their cameras and follow me into the depths of the flooding space.
I prop my hands at my sides and shake my head.
Delores stands on a death trap of a rusted-out ladder, banging on a pipe with a wrench.
Lou’s nowhere in sight.
Delores wipes her eyes with the back of her arm. Looking up to the ceiling, she yells, “We’re leaking like the Titanic down here. Damn that dick. When’s he going to get here?”
That dick?
I can’t help but smile. “The Dick has arrived.”
Delores grins as she turns. “What the hell took you so long?”
I cup my crotch. “Had to pack my dick. It’s big, so, you know, that takes a while.”
Delores laughs. “You cocky bastard, get over here and fix this mess.”
I give her a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
An hour and a half, two beers, and about a thousand curse words later, I step off the ladder.
Lou pokes her head around the corner. “Why’s it still so wet?”
Delores looks to me and back to Lou.
I answer, “We just got the water stopped. You’re welcome.”
Lou blows a stray curl from her face. “Why didn’t you cut the water supply to the house?”
She’s the most beautiful smart-girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. And I hate it when she’s all logical and shit.
Fuck.
Delores smacks my arm. “Well, that would’ve made things too easy, wouldn’t it, Buck? We like to do things the hard way; shows how talented we are.”
Lou’s smirk fades as her gaze bounces from Joe to Rick to Landry, each with their camera pointed at her.
She frowns. “What’s all this?”
Trudi steps around Landry and shoves her hand toward Lou. “I’m Trudi Parks, field producer of Celebrity Homecoming. We’re here with Buck. And you are?”
Lou stares at Trudi’s hand as though it’s a five foot cottonmouth snake. “I’m Lou. Hey, you’re not filming, are you?”
Trudi giggles. “No, of course not. These guys just carry those around to get laid.”
Lou does a perfect about-face and walks out.
Trudi follows, waving a release form. “Wait, Ms. Lou—or whatever your name is—I need you to sign this.”
Ten seconds later, Lou’s voice carries, “Hell no!”
I pull my shirt from where it hangs on a nail by the door as I head out of the musty room. From the yard, Delores glances up to the deck, where Trudi tries to convince Lou to sign the paper.
“Your girl’s tenacious, I’ll give her that.”
I shrug. “Not really my girl.”
“Well, Lou’s not like she was before, when she was your girl. She might just lay that little girly out.”
“Lay her out? As in punch her?” No fucking way.
Delores looks to the heavens. Then she shoots a glare at me. “Only the good Lord knows what happened to her, but she’s changed. She’s not the same sweet girl you chased around all those years ago.”
A frustrated growl comes from above, and Lou leans over the rail. “Buck, call off your fucking terrier before I hurt her!”
Trudi gasps. She stomps down the stairs, jaw set, eyes narrowed. “She threatened me. I’m done here. I’ll meet you at your grandparents’, Buck. Thank you, Mrs. Dubois, we appreciate your hospitality. Good day.”
“Well, her panties crawled up her crack, didn’t they?” Delores winks.
“Apparently.”
Three seconds later, Lou rushes down the steps, not slowing until she’s two feet from me. Close enough to stir my cock. Close enough to grab, but I don’t.
“You make sure they trash any film they have me on. I don’t have any desire to show up on television. You got me?”
I draw a deep breath, taking in her scent. Magnolias and—vanilla? Whatever it is, it’s beautiful. I cross my arms over my bare chest, studying her. She’s not changed much. Her body is more defined, maybe, but not unrecognizable. My body sure enough recognizes her.