You've Got Tail (2 page)

Great. Just perfect. Burly Hugh looked more and more like a drunk who had crawled into the diner to sleep off a bender.

I found an empty spray bottle by the sink and filled it with water. Positioning myself on the opposite side of the checkout counter (just in case I needed to make a run for it), I leaned over the top and proceeded to spritz the unconscious man. The mist must have been too fine, because other than the rise and fall of his chest, he still didn't move.

Crawling farther up onto the counter, I stretched my arms over the other side, hovering just inches from his face. I pumped the trigger hard three or four times, then screamed and dropped the bottle when his hand shot up and grabbed my wrist. The Neanderthal yanked me completely over the top and onto his naked self. He growled—honest to goodness, I wouldn't lie about such a thing. He growled. The noise started in his chest. I know, because I could feel it in mine, which was now crushed against him.

Why hadn't I just left and called the police? It would have been the easy thing to do—the smart thing. His arms were squeezed tight around me, and I became acutely aware of his Mr. Happy pressing against the skin of my thigh.

His eyelids cracked a peep, then he narrowed his gaze. “Who are you?”

“I…” I should be the one asking the damn questions, but the only ones coming to mind were completely inappropriate. Like, where did he work out? How good looking were his parents to create such a fine specimen of man? And did he have a girlfriend?

There was a moment, a very weak moment on my part, where I began to lower my face to his, our lips only centimeters apart.

What the hell am I doing?
Where was my head? He could be a serial killer, a rapist, or someone
really
bad, like an Amway salesman. I turned my head away from his. “Could you let me up, please?”

He squeezed me tighter. “Are you going to answer me?”

Finally, I gulped and squeaked out, “Sunny Haddock.”

His left eyebrow rose. “Sunny Haddock?”

“Uh, that would be me. Yes.” I'd been in town less than an hour and I was already famous. Well, my name was on the side of the building. “And you would be?”

“Babel Trimmel.”

“Chav's baby brother?” I'd heard stories about him, but I'd imagined him to be terminally twelve. The age he'd been when Chav had left Missouri for the West Coast.

“Chavvie made a big mistake. She shouldn't have asked you out here.”

Talk about judging someone before you get the know them. Barely through introductions and he already wanted me out. I've made a bad first impression before, but what the fuck? What didn't he like about me? Although maybe it wasn't about like. Because, by the rise of his hoo-ha against my leg, I could swear he liked me a little.

An unfamiliar flutter twittered in my stomach. It'd been awhile since I'd been so physically attracted to anyone. Babel's nostrils flared with a slight huff. His brows narrowed. His eyes dark with purpose. I felt like Little Red Riding Hood, and Babel filled the role of the Big Bad Wolf intent on eating my goody basket. Oh, if only.

Pull yourself together, Sunny.
But it was really hard, along with his arms, his chest, his abs, his…

Holding me tighter, his arms locked around me. He stroked my back with his firm hands. I trembled, fighting back a deep moan. “Please let me up, Babel,” I said again.

He froze for a second then relaxed. He unlocked his arms from around me and smiled. “Call me Babe. Everybody does.”

To say I scrambled off his body would be a bit of an overstatement. The trembling had left my arms and knees weak, but I managed, albeit slowly. “I don't know you well enough to call you Babe. Sorry.” I couldn't keep my eyes off his semi-erect package. “Could you put some clothes on? I'm feeling a little…”

He propped up on an elbow like a
Playgirl
centerfold and grinned. “Overdressed?”

What an egomaniac!
“No. Sheesh.” Okay, so maybe I felt a tad overdressed, even in my pink spaghetti-strap shirt dress with black short-shorts and sandals. It was hot in Missouri. Sticky hot. And besides, I'd put in more hours than I care to count at the gym to counterbalance my donut habit, so I deserved to wear those shorts. My exercise routine wasn't all about the donuts. Over two years of no sex, since the dickhead had cheated, and while I'm no sex maniac, that's a long time for someone who had been getting it on the reg.

The “no sex” could also explain why I had such a visceral reaction to this guy. No doubt the man was a hunka-hunka. “Could you quit posing on the floor?” I wagged my finger toward his poker. “And for the love of daisies, put some clothes on before that thing puts out someone's eye.”

He had the courtesy to look the tiniest bit embarrassed. “Nothing personal. It's a purely physical reaction.”

“I'm sure you say that to all the girls.”

“Sorry, I just meant, well, I'm a guy. You brush against the junk, it goes stiff.”

“And here I thought I was special.” This line of conversation bordered on hurting my feelings. I know I'm not a beauty queen, but neither am I Medusa. “You can shut up now.”

Color rose to his cheeks—those nice fuzzy, chiseled, scruffy, manly cheeks, so perfectly book-ending his Roman nose and gorgeous bow lips. And damn it to hell, his teeth were friggin' perfect! He pulled himself up by grabbing the counter, and holy schmoly, the man was tall. If I had to guess, he bordered on 6'5”. I'm pretty sure I hated him for being so beautifully handsome.

“I only meant to say…”

I almost offered to buy him a shovel, but he managed to dig his own hole quite deep without any help from me. “I've got it already, jeesh. Not interested, physical reaction, yada, yada, yada. No need to explain yourself further. Besides, I'm not looking for a boyfriend, so doesn't matter. And even if I was, it certainly wouldn't be my best friend's baby brother. We cool?” I didn't wait for him to answer. I waved him off. “Great. Excellent. Awesome even. Now, put on some damn clothes.” Why-oh-why was I attracted to crazy?

“Perhaps you could find me a diaper.”

Guess he didn't like the “baby” comment. Oh well. Sucks to be him.

He covered himself with his hands. Thank God. However, it didn't stop me from checking out the rest of his body.
Ay Chihuahua!
Damn, it kind of sucked to be me.

I knew from Chav that Babel had moved back to Kansas City where their parents lived after he'd taken a year off from university to look for their brother Judah. What was he still doing here? A horrible thought entered my head. “If you're here, does that mean…”

His face suddenly sobered. “I don't know. Mom and Dad haven't been able to get ahold of her for the last couple of days, so they sent me down to check in. I got here yesterday.”

“She texted me a couple of days ago. I haven't been able to get ahold of her since then.” I lifted a hand to comfort him, but his nakedness stopped me from breaching the distance. “Babel, we're going to find her.” Even if I had to turn over every stump and stone in this backward-ass town.

“Call me Babe. Everyone does.”

That was the second time he'd said that to me, but I couldn't call him Babe. No way, no how. Too intimate. Especially since I'd seen him in his birthday suit. “I don't think so.”

He chuckled, low and sexy, and everything went right south of my navel. “Sunny, I'm afraid I've, err…lost my clothes.”

“You've got to be kidding me.” How did a person go about losing all their damn clothes? “Fine. I'll stay on one side of the counter. You stay on the other. Kapeesh?”

“I understand,” he said with a practiced tolerance. It made me wonder who he'd gotten so much practice with.

He hadn't turned around yet, and part of me felt really sad about it. I'm sure he had a killer butt to go with his killer bod. I was all about the teeth and ass. But there were no complaints about the whole frontal part of him either, so…

“Good. Should I call someone for you? Or do you want to call someone? A girlfriend? Anyone who can bring you some clothes?” Subtle. Not.

“The phone's not working here even if I could call someone.”

I noticed he'd didn't say “no girlfriend.” Much to my annoyance, I cared. And why was the phone turned off? “Don't you have a cell phone that works?”

He moved his hands, indicating his lack of attire. “No pockets.”

In the immortal words of Homer Simpson,
Doh
! I snuck another quick glance at his dangly bits, even more annoyed with myself for not having better self-control. “Great. Fantastic.” I waved my hand again and purposefully looked away. I had a cell phone out in my truck, and was just about to tell him I'd go get it when he stepped out from behind the counter, still full Monty. “Hey! Keep the mammoth covered.”

“Flattering. But there's nothing prehistoric about it.” He cocked his eyebrow and smirked.

Bastard.

“Look here, darling.” He pointed to his “junk” as he'd called it and said, “This here is what you call a penis. It's connected to the bladder and the bladder is full. Turn your head if you want, sweetheart, but I'm heading to the john.”

“Lovely. And I'm not your darling.” I made a show of rolling my eyes and turning away. “I'm going to get my cell phone. I expect you to be standing behind the counter by the time I get back.” Now, for the sake of posterity—well, at least for the sake of his posterior—I glanced back as he headed left to the bathroom. Of course, it was sort of hard to notice his ass when I saw the—

“Blood…” I whispered.

A pain pierced my temple as my knees buckled beneath me. I dropped to the ground. My peripheral vision narrowed to black. The pounding of blood racing through my arteries swelled loudly in my ears. It was out of beat with my heart.

The thumping of blood stopped, my eyesight began to clear, and I was in Babel's arms.

“Sunny? You okay?” I heard his voice as a muffled echo.

No, I wanted to tell him. I wasn't okay. But my mouth didn't work. A vision came over me. I could sense it like death come knocking. Then I was no longer in Babel's arms. I was a ghost. A spectator.

I was…in a shabby apartment with furniture dating back to the seventies? Had I traveled to the past? It wasn't unheard of for me, but it couldn't be relevant for something in my life now since I hadn't been born until 1974. Or could it? Great. The powers that be were giving me a psychic reading on my lost Crissy doll. Useless.

I heard a muffled cry, maybe a scream from beyond the front door. I passed through and down the stairs. The noise grew louder. Animalistic growls and snarls. Fear tightened in my stomach.

It's not real, I reminded myself several times as the feral sounds made me shiver.

I couldn't see any creature, but it certainly sounded like someone was getting voraciously attacked. And the room—it looked familiar. Two windows high up on the far wall spilled moonlight across the floor to…the counter? This was the restaurant. The noise continued, loud, animalistic, with grunting, groaning, and a masculine “ah!”

Oh. Oh no.

If I'd really been there, I'd have run, but the vision took me closer to the scene of the crime. On the floor, behind the counter, a gorgeous woman with long dark hair, golden eyes, and even in the bad lighting, a body I'd give my right tit for, straddled the very naked and very sexy Babel Trimmel. I wanted to gouge out my eyes. Where was a hot poker salesman when you needed him?

The woman threw her head back and laughed. “You were fantastic, Babe. As always.”

He smiled, his eyes rolling back a little. Coming up on his elbows, he leaned his left shoulder forward and looked behind. “You've got to do something about those fingernails.”

“Just marking my territory.”

Holy smack, the blood on the floor had happened during sexcapades? Yikes.

“I'm not your territory, Sheila.”

The woman, Sheila apparently, picked up a bottle of Canadian Mist from the floor beside them, took a swig, then dumped some of the amber liquid down his large chest. No wonder the place reeked.

Babel shook his head and gave her thigh a light slap. “It's time to go, Sheila. I've got to get the place cleaned up.”

“You sure you don't want to move here?” She licked his nipple. “I've sure missed you.”

He sighed. The sigh sounded like it'd been one that he'd perfected over and over for this very argument. “It's not this town or you. I've got a real life out
there
.” He said “there” as though he was talking about an alien planet. “I'm going to find my sister, then get back to it.”

“And what if you don't find her?” Sheila asked. “You never found Judah.”

Babel's eyes narrowed. “Not an option,” he said. Then added, “I'm finding her, and after, getting the heck out of this town. It's brought nothing but bad luck for my family.”

“Sorry,” she said, as if she wasn't sorry, an evil smile playing on her lips. Okay, so maybe more mischievous than evil, but it was my vision, I could use whatever adjectives I liked. “But you know that answer pisses me off.”

Before he could blink, she whacked him super hard across the temple with the bottle of blended whiskey, and Babel was out like a light.

“Bastard,” Sheila muttered. Which I understood, because it had been my sentiment exactly.

She dressed quickly, gathered up Babel's clothes, and walked into the kitchen area. It was small, but nice. I hadn't had a chance to see it yet, so it was like my very own psychic tour. She opened the walk-in freezer and chucked the jeans, boots, socks, and T-shirt inside.
No underwear.
Huh. I'd file that nugget away for later.

My vision stopped with her slamming the front door, and suddenly I was back, looking up from the floor at the towering and still very naked Babel.