Just Her Luck (47 page)

I huffed, sending more sudsy bubbles flying in his general direction.

"You know what I mean!"

He ignored me, yanking his jeans, pulling them down to his ankles, taking his underwear right along with them.

Oh, uh, my
. I gulped. He's very…
erect.

I squeezed my eyes shut and put a staying hand out.

"You can't come in here like that!"

"Okay."

I paused and un-squinted a little, my face all squished up in a wince.

Really?

It couldn't be that easy.

A few minutes passed and surprisingly, he listened.

Shocking.

I sighed and had just enough time to see him pull his pants back up and get straight into the tub, clothes and all as I opened my eyes.

"Thatcher!"

Water splashed out the side of the tub, sloshing everywhere as he settled his jean clad legs on either side of me and picked up my feet, grinning like a fool.

"Thatcher!"

"Oh, come on," he sweet talked, the rogue back in place, "You have to give me somethin'. All the other fellas are lording it over me,” he jutted his lip out, “Let me be able to say I got wet with you. Even if it's completely out of context."

I squelched a smile at the look on his face.

"You're horrible." I slunk down further in the large tub, making sure my breasts were hidden.

"You mean incorrigible." He winked, massaging my feet.

"You shouldn't really be in here," I said after a few minutes, oddly charmed by the oddity that is Thatcher.

He just doesn't give up, does he?

Kinda have to admire that about him.

I voiced my thoughts out loud, and he shrugged.

He stared at my toes for a while and finally looked up at me.

"I'm an ass. A big one. I don't mean to be."

I gave him a look.

"
Most
of the time," he amended. "It's like it’s ingrained in me. I don't know how to be any other way, so I stopped trying, let me...
be me
."

"It
is
one of the more charming things about you," I conceded.

"That I'm an ass?" he laughed.

"No, you goob." I splashed water at him. "That you're
you
."

"That's what I like most about you too." He gave my foot a gentle squeeze.

"You know this conversation is really weird and awkward in its current state and setting, right?" I asked pointedly, pointing out the obvious.

"Really? Should we go to a different state and setting then? How about Kentucky, somewhere in an open field?"

Grinning leeringly, he waggled his brows and blew me a kiss.

"Quit being so obtuse, you nut!"

"Hey, Vieve?" his face sobered suddenly and he set my feet down.

"Hmmm?"

"I really am sorry for being a fuck up earlier." He was completely serious and completely sincere all of the sudden, "Do you forgive me?"

"No," I said immediately and laughed, grinning at him, letting him splash me.

"Oh, I see!" he said in feigned indignity, "You can insult
my
ass, run off with
my
brother-
my ass is not big by the way, it's perfect-
blatantly
flaunting your love affairs out in front of me, making me insanely jealous, but I do
one
stupid, tiny, heartless thing and
I'm
unforgiven?! Oh, missy," he stood up, soaking wet, water droplets plopping about with his dramatics, and stepped out of the tub, "I have had enough!"

He tossed his hands up, flinging water everywhere, squishing wetly on the tile floor, grabbing a towel to dry off with, shucking off his clothes to leave them in a wet pile on the floor.

I was laughing so hard I snorted and choked, watching his cute ham hock butt move, flex and sway as he stomped from the bathroom, towel in his hands.

"And don't think I'm going to let you snuggle me or anything, missy!" he called from my bedroom. "I swear," he bitched, sounding like an affronted old lady, "There will be none of
that
tonight! Harrumph!"

"I think I just consented to a sleep over..." I snorted quietly to the empty bathroom, still laughing at him.

"I think..."

Thatch-ilada

"I can't sleep like this, puddin' pop. It's
stifling
."

"Then go sleep in your own bed," I grumped, facing the wall, glad he couldn't see my smile.

"I feel like a burrito," he grumbled, tugging on the sheet I'd made him wrap around his naked waist, "or a taquito."

I snorted and adjusted my head on my pillow.

"I'm never eating Mexican food again," he muttered.

I rolled over and studied him, trying to figure him out.

"I don't get you," I finally admitted, making him pause in his sheet wrestling match.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean,
who
is Thatcher? The
real
Thatcher. Is it the charming rogue or is that just you being a playful flirt? I can't tell. My first impression of you made me think you were a womanizer, but now, mmm, now I'm not so sure."

He just listened while I continued.

"Is it the nut who hopped in my bathtub fully clothed? Climbing through my window because I locked my door, pretending his sole intention was to stay the night but he really just wants to apologize?"

"I wanted to stay the night too.” He didn’t deny anything.

I'd also found a vase of wild flowers in my room on my nightstand when I came out, making me think that was his true intention for sneaking in here.

I think the stay the night thing was just him improvising.

We’d promptly removed the beautiful bouquet when I’d explained a little bit about my allergies.

Shame too, they were so pretty.

"Is it the sulking emotional eater? Or all three? I mean, I get you're just being you... but are they
all
really
you
? Truly? I never really know what piece of Thatcher I'm going to get."

He leaned in close and pulled me towards him, rubbing our noses together in an Eskimo kiss.

"If you'd let me," he said gently, kissing me softly, lips diving in, teasing mine, his hand running through my hair, "I'd give you
all
of me."

If he hadn't said it so sweetly, I would have thought he was hitting me with another one of his ridiculous penis/sex innuendos.

"Is this a corny pick up line? Or one of those crappy 'let's get it on' come-ons?" I asked suspiciously, playing with the stubble along his jaw line.

"Sadly, my love, I am but full of corn, and the only thing I want to 'pick up' is you," he sighed dramatically, tucking me into his side.

"Thatcher,
be serious."

"I am," he said quietly, kissing the top of my head, "I just want you. I want to be with you. You get me. Like me, even. I like you too."

He tucked my head under his chin and coasted his hand up and down my back, making me feel all warm and protected, just like I do with Ephraim.

"Do your tricks work with the ladies like you let on?" I mumbled into his chest.

"A gentleman never tells."

I smiled into his warm skin.

"Are there a lot of 'never tells'?"

He snorted.

"I got
you
, didn't I? Now, quiet, woman. I'm sleepin' here!"

"Is that a 'yes'?" I pried.

"No."

"So it's a 'no' to the 'yes' or a 'yes' to the 'no'?"

He sighed in irritation. "I'm really not all that interesting, there's not that much to tell."

"Then this won't take long," I implored, rubbing my hands over his pecs, plucking distractedly at his nipples.

He really does have nice nipples.

They’re so cute. I just want to...

"Ow! No pinching!" he yelped.

Heh.

Yeah.

Just makes me want to do
that.

He picked up my injured hand, placing chaste kisses around the stitches.

"I wasn't chubby for a summer." He nuzzled the top of my hand.

"Hey, look at me, I've been chubby forever. One summer isn't a big deal. Whoop dee doo, right?"

"I was chubby until I was sixteen."

I pulled back and looked at him.

He nodded and set my hand down to run his fingers back through my hair.

"I've always been a goof, goob,
whatever,
and that's how I got through school as the 'chubby Harrison', making a joke out of everything, being the one to pick-
in some silly way or another
- on someone first, more teasing with friends, more taunting with my brothers, rather than being picked on first. Then, at around sixteen, I had a few growth spurts, started helping out a lot more around my parent’s ranch. I started working out too, to help keep it off. The rest is history... and other than old pictures of me, ‘chubby Thatcher’ doesn't exist anymore."

"Mmm, the whole being picked on thing?
Yeah,
I know what
that's
like."

"Bowen and all them were just heckling me earlier about me sulking all summer over some girl I'd had calf eyes for. She didn't choose me, taking up with my best bud instead. I'd really liked her and I was really sore about it."

"My poor baby," I cooed in fake sympathy, giving him a quick kiss.

He laughed and kissed me back.

"They only brought it up because I was butt hurt about you runnin’ off with Sawyer. What you could possibly find charming about him is beyond me, sugar buns," he grumbled, giving me some sass.

"He looks like you..." I said tentatively.

"Ugh.
No, he
does not
," he grumped.

"Sure he does," I cooed, pinching his cheeks, "You both look like hot blondes."

He perked up at that.

"I'm listening..." he preened, grinning handsomely.

I sighed heavily.

"Sorry,” I shrugged, “that's it."

Offended, he pinched my arm. "What?!"

I tapped my chin, acting like I had to think about it.

"Nope, sorry,” I let out a long drawn out sigh, “There is nothing else about Thatcher Harrison that I could possibly call commendable. Let’s face it, you didn't even..."

"You evil little..." he growled, rolling me underneath him, sheet still wrapped around his waist.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" I tsk-ed him. "You can't." I frowned sadly, running my hands up and over his forearms.

"And why the hell not?" he huffed, popping up, giving me enough room to slide out from underneath him.

"I have cooties, remember?"

"You're never going to let me live that one down, are you?" he protested, glowering, hands thrust out onto his hips, sheet clad boner standing straight out like a sideways flag pole, well-muscled chest out on display, golden skin tempting.

Oh so tempting.

He looks down right irresistible, and adorable.

Completely lickable.

"Probably not." I gave him a saucy wink.

Or I'll just use it against you whenever I want you to work for it.

He flopped back onto the bed, moaning piteously, groaning like he was in actual pain.

"Woman, would I have climbed through your window to give you flowers, try to woo you with my awesomeness, if I thought you had cooties?"

"If you're horny? Maybe," I ventured nonchalantly, watching his reaction.

"Is that all you think of me?"

He frowned, grunting as he scooted off the bed, acting like a prim maiden now with the sheet, keeping it wrapped tightly around his waist.

"I was just kidding!"

"No, you weren't," he sniffed disdainfully, making me laugh.

Head high, nose in the air, he marched towards the door and started to unlock it, then stopped, locked it back up and stormed back to my bed, green eyes turbulent, flashing bright like two chips of glowing green emerald fire.

"What
are
you doing?" I inquired inquisitively.

I kept my smile at bay, fascinated, wondering what he was going to do next.

"I'm mad," he grumbled, hopping into bed, rough with the bedding in his fit of pique, "I'm not an idiot."

I smirked and climbed back in too, noting how he gave me his back and made rude little noises every so often in his throat.