"And this turns you on?" I asked.
She sucked in a breath, as if recalling a memory. "Oh yeah, sometimes he ties me up and we have safe words. There's nothing wrong with fantasy … in fact, it kicks things up a notch. We can go at it for hours like that. When he puts on that ski mask, he's super controlling. I never thought I'd like that. It turns out I love it."
Marley made a gagging sound.
"Don't judge," Stevie said.
"No, it sounds really hot. I'm just thinking about the time we all went skiing last year. Adam and I were stuck on the lift. He lent me his ski mask."
We all cracked up.
"Relax, it's not the same one." Stevie turned to me. "The moral of the story is you shouldn't be afraid to try new things. You might just enjoy yourself."
"Even the sexual stories in this family have morals," Dillon said.
"Can I use that for my book?"
Stevie shook her head so quickly her hair slapped my face. "Hell no, get your own material."
The sound of the guys coming back drew our attention. I saw it just as they headed to the room-I hadn't put the vibrator back in the box. Thankfully, Dillon was quick, burying it beneath the batteries.
"What's going on?" Adam asked.
The four of us tried and failed to look nonchalant. "Nothing. Where is everyone else?"
"Damien and Rick are fixing the step."
"Shouldn't you help?" Stevie asked.
"Too many cooks in the kitchen. Besides, I wanted to finish putting up the shelves. What's this?" Adam asked staring at the box in my hand. "What do you need so many triple A batteries for?"
"You never know when you might run out of batteries," Stevie said.
Adam looked around before picking up the level and a pencil. "Do you even own anything that takes those batteries?"
I do now.
I cupped my hand to my mouth, but it didn't matter because Marley and Dillon exploded with laughter.
"Why are you all so giggly?"
"We were just talking about how much fun we had skiing last year," Dillon said.
Adam looked at Stevie shaking his head. "You told them."
"Adam … it just slipped out."
He nodded. "Is anything sacred between you guys?"
"Not really," Dillon offered.
Adam placed the pencil behind his ear and started slapping the ruler against his palm. Stevie squirmed next to me.
He arched his eyebrow, his face frozen in a stern expression. "Don't worry, babe. I'm happy you told them."
"You're not upset?"
"More like disappointed, but it's nothing we can't overcome. I'm looking forward to it."
Adam was my brother-in-law-the cute, nerdy boy-next-door who was like an older brother to me, but in that instant his voice got deeper and muscles I didn't know existed stretched against his shirt. I got the feeling we were seeing the side of Adam that Stevie had described.
She swallowed, almost a gulping motion, next to me. "Looking forward to what?"
"Your punishment. Make sure you lock the window tonight."
When he walked out, the rest of us let out a long, sharp breath. "Shit, that was hot," Dillon said.
"I know, right?"
Chapter Twelve
When everyone finally left, I poured myself a glass of wine and walked around the place, taking in every scratch and scuff of the hardwood floors. We had shined them up, but the imperfections remained. I loved them. These were my scratches and scuffs. They'd been someone else's history once, but now they were mine and I would make more, adding my own history.
I wanted to dance around the place, to christen it in a way. I had to find the perfect song for my mood.
But for some reason, when I scrolled down my extensive playlist, there was one song I had to hear. Hot in Herre by Nelly wasn't exactly what fit my mood, but sometimes a girl's just gotta hear a certain song.
And I discovered a few things. My floors were made for dancing. This song made my hips swing, my ass involuntarily twerked and I rubbed against the wall.
Damn … Nelly's a talented man. I thought about the vibrator and all those packages of batteries. What a shame to let them go to waste.
A partial groan … almost a growl, halted me.
"Howdy, neighbor," he said.
"What the hell, Evan. You can't just barge in on me."
He grinned, kicking the door so it opened all the way. "Your door was ajar."
I stomped over to him. "It's not a jar. It's a door."
"Funny. What are you? Six years old?"
"Sometimes. I can't believe you spied on my slutty dance."
"Did you do that at the club the other night?"
"No. I only do it in private."
"That's good, because your private dance is liable to cause a lot of public hard-ons."
"You're pretty gross."
"And you're pretty."
"Pretty what?"
"Just pretty."
I tried to hide my smile but it wouldn't yield to my mental command.
"I came by to return this," he said, twirling my wig around his finger. "I keep forgetting."
I took it from him. "I was looking for you earlier."
"Well here I am. I was helping Mike unload the truck."
"I wanted you to meet my family."
He held up his hands. "I'm not the type of guy you introduce to your family."
"Whatever. Your loss."
He leaned against the doorframe. "Looks like you're all moved in."
"Why are you standing there?"
"You haven't invited me in yet."
"What are you? A vampire? Get in here. Want something to eat?"
"Nope, I'm good."
"You have to take something."
"Why?"
"Because this is my first place and you are my first real guest. It's a big deal."
His eyes crinkled, the invisible wicked thoughts behind his expression held no mystery. "What are you offering me, Price?"
I ignored the flash of heat that travelled down my body as a result.
"I have fruit, potato chips, cheese and chocolate. I need to go shopping."
"That's not much."
"Hey, I never said I'm Martha Stewart. Besides, I'm willing to share my chocolate with you. It's a huge sacrifice for me."
I tried to ignore the thud of his work boots, the nice fit of his jeans, and the I-dare-you-to-touch messy-hotness that was his hair. I busied myself with cutting and unwrapping.
I searched the cabinets looking for my knives. "Can you bring me that box in the corner? I think it has a knife set in it."
He brought it over to me, carrying it as if it weighed ounces. But the masculine gesture was cut short when he let out a blood-curdling scream after opening it.
"Did you cut yourself?" I asked, running toward him.
"What the fuck is this, Price? You trying to give me a heart attack?"
He held my gorgeous doll. Well she was gorgeous to me anyway, but I got his reaction. Her neck, stitched with a zigzag of heavy brown thread, held up a floppy tuft of fuzzy hair. One of her eyes was crystal blue while the other was mossy green and much larger. She wore a metallic red dress with a little bow in the front. I took her from him, trying and failing to stifle my laugh at Evan's shocked expression.
"Evan, this is Lady Lulu."
"I can't believe you have a doll."
"She's not just a doll. She's a symbol."
"Of what? Terrifying horror?"
"Of love."
He leaned against the counter. I sat on it, next to him, placing the doll on my lap. He tried not to look in our direction. It's like he didn't know if he should be amused or freaked out. Poor Evan … a little of both was appropriate.
"I got her for Christmas when I was little."
"Your mama bought you that?"
"She didn't look like this. She was brand spanking new, fresh out of the box and the hot toy that year."
"You must have been happy to get her."
"That's the thing, Evan. I wasn't. I mean I wanted her, but I wanted something else more that year."
"What did you really want?"
I tried to recall it as I had many times in the past, but I came up short. "I can't remember, but that's not important to our story. Anyway, although I didn't love her at first sight, I pretended I did. After all, my mom waited in line four hours to get her for me. I think my sisters even told her to get them less so she could buy this. I made the best of it. I even brought her to school for our weekly expression session."
"Expression session?"
"Show and Tell. It was mistake on my part. You see, an evil troll haunted the school. He came from a long line of villains who feasted on little girl's tears. In other words, he was a bully-Bruce Tompkins."
"He was responsible for that?"