The Sextet - Occupational Hazards [The Sextet Anthology, Volume 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (22 page)

“Look out!”

Schluck!
Jonnie ducked at Mathers’s warning, only to have a cool slosh of liquid hit her square in the back. “Ack! Son of a bitch! I told you to leave!”

Paint dripped off the end of her ponytail onto the waistband of her shorts, running down into her underwear. More trickled along her spine to join the party. Hell, maybe she’d forget the roller and heave color on the walls from the pan while she screamed her lungs out.

Clearly taking advantage of her shock, Carson Mathers spoke up again. “If I’d chosen any of the other bids, I’d have six wells instead of three and would’ve paid twice as much. They were trying to protect the integrity of aquifer and the surrounding wells and refused to bid on installing six. Their initial suggestion was two, but I talked them into the third. This is my fault. I’m paying for your well.” He held up a rectangular piece of paper. “I’d rather not have an irate neighbor for the next forty years. I’ll leave it inside the screen door.”

His words registered several seconds after his face disappeared. If not for Randy and Jason, Instant Grass would be sucking all its neighbors dry instead of just her. The lesser of two evils.
They still didn’t tell me.

Why would they have told her? She would’ve reacted the same way she had today. With her temper, she should’ve been born a redhead.

Shaking her head, she plopped on the drop cloth-covered floor and buried her face in her hands. They deserved an apology. As a friend, she sucked—jumping to conclusions, not listening, telling them to leave. They’d probably never speak to her again.

A car door slammed somewhere outside. Most likely Mathers. He hadn’t seemed like such a bad guy once she’d heard what he had to say about the irrigation wells. He’d compromised, considering the community in which he lived rather than going forward with his original plan. She should apologize to him as well.
Damn, it sucks to be wrong.

“Jonnie, we’re sorry we didn’t tell you about the work we did next door.”

* * * *

Standing outside the laundry room window, Randy watched Jonnie’s head pop up when he spoke. No anger clouded her eyes. Had she accepted Carson Mathers’s account of the situation? She nibbled on her lower lip. Her expression conveyed…uncertainty? Vulnerability?

He took a deep breath and forged ahead before she could cut him off. “But we won’t let you push us away for trying to protect you. Yes, we should’ve told you, and no, we’re not leaving. In fact, we’re moving in.”

She blinked at them. “You’re moving in?”

“Yeah.” Jason lifted his suitcase high enough for her see it. “Today. We love you. You love us. We’re all sorry for the things we said and didn’t say.”

“Okay.” Her easy acquiescence surprised Randy. He’d expected at least some resistance. She gave them a crooked smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain. Moving in is good. I’d open the door for you, but I kind of have paint running down my back.”

“Didn’t I tell you we’d need that key?” Jingling his key ring, Jason headed toward the back door. “Be there in a sec, Jonnie.”

Randy followed him, leaving his suitcase in the kitchen as they strode to the laundry room. She met them at the edge of the drop cloth on the floor, pulling back when he tried to hug her.

“I need a shower.” She turned around. Paint dripped off the end of her ponytail onto her shorts, adding to the yellow splash down her clothes.

Jason’s laugh echoed in the empty room. “You’re going to need help washing off that mess out of your hair—not that that’s a problem. We like you best when you’re wet, sweetheart.”

THE END

HTTP://WWW.MELLANIESZERETO.COM

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com