The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag: All Washed Up: (Book 3 in the Misadventures of the Laundry Hag series) (22 page)

 Without warning, Neil scooped me up into his arms. “You’re thinking too much,” he all but growled.

 “Don’t,” I said a bit too breathlessly to be believed. “You’ll hurt your shoulder.”

 “The hell with my shoulder. I have exactly twelve hours of vacation time left and I know exactly how I want to spend them.” He ignored my token protest and carried me back into our bedroom, which was thankfully in the same condition we’d left it. He kicked the door shut and put me on the bed. “Put it all aside for now, Uncle Scrooge. No more of anything out there until I make love to my wife in my own bed. I’ve earned the privilege, since I saved your life and all.”

 “Arrogant bastard.” The words were ruined by the big old grin I sported. “What if I want to talk first?”

“You can talk all you want to,” he mumbled as he reached for the hem of my shirt. “Just don’t expect me to pay much attention.”

“I still can’t believe you set up this whole ghost hunt just to get into my pants.” Seriously, how could I
not
be flattered? “You’re so goal oriented.”

“Is that a bad thing?” He made short work of the shirt and then attacked the drawstring on my pants.

“No.” It was my turn to tear at his clothes. So what if he was the one who was always right and had such stellar ideas. “It’s a really
really
good thing.
Oh….”

And that was all there was to say for a good long time.

~The End~

Keep reading for a sneak preview of

Final Notice

Book One in the Damaged Goods Series

Coming June 10, 2014

Chapter One

 That creep had grabbed my ass for the last time.

 I raised the clipboard in my hands up over my head— ready to smash it down on the booty grabber’s cranium—when Marcy Regan snuck up behind me and snatched my makeshift weapon out of my hands.

 “Don’t, Jackie. He’ll file an assault charge.”

 “Then I’ll file the sexual harassment charge.” I seethed.

 “Think of the paperwork,” Marcy hissed. “And the lawyers.”

 It was not an idle observation. Marcy worked for the Miami-Dade County Clerk and she spent her days up to her eyeballs in paperwork. And I was currently employed by Stan Cunningham, the ass grabbing lawyer. Neither of us wanted to bring the job home with us.

 Ugh. She was right, I knew it but as I stared at my still smirking boss seated behind his ostentatious mahogany desk, I wanted him to suffer. Boils and sores were too good for this hump. “Dude, what part of
I’m married so keep your paws to yourself
don’t you understand?”

 His face went blank “I didn’t do anything.”

 As I stared into his doughy face, one thing became clear. No job was worth such crap, especially not the peanuts I’d been paid.

 “Give me the clipboard, Marcy.” My voice remained steady.

 “What are you going to do with it?” Her tone was wary, but she handed it over.

 I flipped over the case we’d been going over, scrawled
I quit, you big tool
, and dropped it on his desk. Terminating my employment on a notice of termination—how appropriate. “Cough up what you owe me or I’ll send my husband. With his whole marine platoon.” Their version of collecting was of the turn your head and cough variety. I doubted the pervert liked them apples.

 The smarmy grin slid right off Stan the Shyster’s face. “Take it out of petty cash.”

 “Gladly.” After backing away slowly, I pivoted on my heel and made for the front office, cleared out the petty cash and moved to the glass door.

 I gestured to Marcy. “Let’s go, lunch is on me.”

 We headed down to our favorite little Panini cafe where I ordered a Piña Colada the size of a fishbowl—a reward for my restraint. Though I offered one to Marcy as well, she declined. “I have to go back to work.”

 “I’ll make it up you to you this weekend.” I owed her, big time. If I had hit Stan the Stain and he took me to court, I could’ve lost my process serving certificate. Then I’d really be out of luck.

 I slid my oversized sunglasses up and took in the scenery. A cloudless blue sky, palm trees swaying hither and yon. Pedestrians in micro dresses, short-shorts and swimsuits strolled by. Oh to be able to loll around and enjoy the sea breeze.

 “So what are you going to do now?” Marcy took a delicate bite of her mozzarella and tomato Panini.

 “Tell Luke I quit. After I throw him a bang, of course.” My husband was always so much more agreeable while basking in post-coital bliss.

 “Did he find a job yet?”
 “He’s doing security with his brother.”

 Marcy’s big blue eyes got even bigger. “Logan’s back? Why didn’t you tell me?” She fanned herself. Apparently the wind off the water wasn’t enough to contend with heated thoughts of my brother-in-law.

 “Sorry, I didn’t think you cared.” The lie scalded my throat. Truth was, I’d done my best
not
to think about Logan Parker for the six years Luke and I had been married.

 “He’s the hottest guy on the face of the planet.” Marcy fluffed her blond hair as though just mentioning the Devil’s name would draw his notice. “Is he seeing anybody?”

 “A therapist, I hope.” I drained my drink. “I should get home. Do a little feminine maintenance before I break the big news.”

 Marcy grinned. “Or you could look for another job.”

 “Oh you and your zany ideas.” The thought of going to work for another sleazy lawyer made my skin crawl. We had some money saved up and I could afford to take a little while and really consider my options.

 I left Marcy outside the county clerk’s office and hailed a cab. Last thing I needed was a DUI, Luke was gonna be upset already.

 Not with me though, never with me. My husband didn’t think the sun rose until I got out of bed in the morning. No, the censure would be totally focused inward. On himself for being unable to land a permanent job post-military. Luke was old-fashioned—he wanted to support me, not the other way around.

 Stubborn Parker men. My brain shied away from thoughts of Logan, hoping to God that Luke wouldn’t drag him home for a beer after work. Not only did I
not
want to see him, I didn’t want to compound Luke’s humiliation by fessing up about the grabby attorney in front of his brother’s hawk-like stare.

 To my surprise, Luke’s big black truck was parked in front of our little bungalow in the neighborhood known as Coral Gate on the west end of the city. The house was 1920’s era that had been remodeled hideously in the 1950’s and again in Technicolor in the 70’s. We were slowly upgrading it with modern conveniences while restoring the historic appeal. After paying the cab driver, I made my way up the cracked concrete walkway and followed the sound of hammering around the side.

 Luke stood there with his shirt off, golden sweat-slicked muscles gleaming in the sun. His dark hair was damp, pushed back away from his face, having grown out since his last tour of duty ended. My heart sped at the sight of him and I wrapped my arms around him from behind, pressing my body into his. “Hey there, sexy.”

 Instead of hugging me back he stiffened instantly, muscles freezing into granite. He looked over his shoulder. Piercing blue eyes, not the expected melty chocolate I loved, stared down at me. “Jacqueline.”

 Logan. Crap on a cracker, could this day get any worse? “Holy Mary and a bag of chips, sorry! Sorry!” I let him go instantly, but the damage was already done. Stupid, delicious rum based drink had impaired my judgment. “I thought you were Luke.”

 “Obviously.” His gaze dipped from my face down to my chest. “That’s a nice look.”

 Huh? Glancing down my body I saw that the cream-colored shell top was now plastered to my chest thanks to his manly sweat saturating the fabric. I plucked it away from my skin, flustered beyond belief. “Friggin hell, I want a do-over for today.”

 “If only I had that power.” There was censure in Logan’s deep tone. Censure and regret.

 My gaze flew to his, my heart pounding like it wanted out of my ribcage. Oh no, he was
not
going there, not when I was half drunk and fully freaked out.

 “Hey babe, thought I heard you.” Luke moved out onto the verandah. He was also shirtless and sweating, a reprieve for my reeling senses. My safe harbor.

 From the front he and Logan were similar in both height and build, but Luke was rangier, designed for speed more than heavy lifting. His smile was the most welcoming sight.

 Brushing past Logan, I moved up the steps to press myself against my man and he pulled me into the safety of his arms.

 “You smell like rum.” He laughed and kissed the top of my head. “And did I see a cab drop you off? Something wrong with your car?”

 “I quit my job.” Frick, there went my awesome seduction to help breaking the news plan. I cast Logan a dark look. It was his fault for throwing me off balance.

 Luke rubbed my back in a soothing motion. “And the rum?”

 Since I’d already spilled the beans…. “I got blitzed on a giant ass Piña colada after I cleared out the petty cash. Seemed like a good idea at the time.” Before I knew I was destined to humiliate myself in front of Logan.

 Again.

 “Looks like you’ve got your hands full, bro. I’m gonna take off,” the Dark Prince intoned.

 I sagged, but my relief was premature because Luke said, “Hang on a second. This could be a good thing.”

 As far as I could tell, the only good thing had been the booze and that was long gone. I pulled back to study his face. “What do you mean?”

 He grinned, that boyishly charming grin that had snagged my heart at first sight. “Come inside and we’ll hash it out. It’s hot out here. Logan, you want a beer?”

 “No.” Logan’s tone was emphatic and I got the feeling he wasn’t talking about the beer.

 “Dude, she’s qualified and she knows everyone. Where are we going to find—?”

 A muscle jumped in Logan’s jaw. “I said no.”

 I glanced between the brothers and worried my lower lip. “What are we talking about here?”

 Luke looked down at me. “Logan and I were thinking of going into business for ourselves.”

 “Like your own security company?” The work Luke had been doing was of the odd jobs, thankless part time variety and I knew it didn’t make him happy, that he wanted to do something he felt was important.

 “More specific. Asset protection, like doing the dirty jobs for property owners and landlords. We’d try to strike a deal with the tenants without legal intervention. It’s less expensive for all parties involved.”

Which meant less work for guys like shyster Stan. “Sounds like a good idea to me.”

“But we need a process server on board, someone who knows the county laws and could make sure we stay on the right side of them. Who can serve the papers on behalf of the owner if necessary and can legally write notices for eviction. We were going to look for somebody else, but since you’re free….” He tossed me a wink.

 “Wow.” I blinked from more than just the harsh sunlight. “I don’t know what to say.” This could be a really good thing. With Luke in the military, I’d barely seen him. If we went down this road, we would work side by side on something that mattered to us both.

 Plus there was no shortage of work. With the housing market hit hard in Florida, properties stood empty and owners were constantly searching for private security teams to take care of messy situations. Ousting squatters, collecting past due rent and stopping unlawful activity and, when necessary, streamlining Florida’s complicated eviction process to rerent the property to decent tenants. It was hard, often thankless work but I knew how to make sure that all the i’s were dotted, the t’s were crossed so anyone who hired us wouldn’t end up with a giant lawsuit on their hands.

 “Luke,” Logan’s tone held a warning. “It isn’t safe. Are you really willing to put her in harm’s way?”

 I turned to face him. The living, breathing downside to this seemingly awesome plan. If working with Luke was a dream then working with Logan was a nightmare. Were his objections really about my safety or did he just want to nix the idea before it took root? “I’ve served in that capacity before, at the sheriff’s office. Luke’s right, no one knows the eviction process in this county better than me, at least not in the private sector.”