Rattle His Cage: The Baxter Boys #4 (The Baxter Boys ~ Rattled)

by Charles, Jane

  That’s bullshit and we both know it.

  “I can assure you that this will not go against your deposit.”

  As if that matters right now. It does, but it doesn’t fix the immediate problem. “My lease also says that if something were to happen to my apartment, which was out of my control, making it unlivable and secure, that you are to provide me with a place to stay.”

  His face colors. “We don’t have another unit available.”

  I knew this already. When they canceled Kelsey’s lease, she was forced to live with Alex. Not that it was a problem for her. But I’m not dating a guy in that house and Mia is using Alex’s bed right now.

  “So, what am I supposed to do? Can we at least board it up or something?”

  “Not without the approval of maintenance.”

  I glance at Sean. “What, like a few more nails in the wall is going to make that damage worse?”

  He just rolls his eyes and steps into the living room as he pulls his phone from a back pocket.

  “Look, maintenance is going to be here in a little bit. Let’s see what they have to say,” Frank says in a reasonable tone.

  The last thing I’m feeling right now is reasonable.

  19

  My phone lights up with a text from Sean. Group text to all the guys.

  Sean: There’s a hole in Mary’s wall

  How the hell does Sean know that?

  Me: What?

  Maybe he’s talking about another Mary or this text was supposed to go to someone else.

  Sean: Somebody used a sledgehammer and put a hole in the wall to her room.

  Me: How the hell do you know that?

  Sean: She called me

  I should have fucking gone with her. I doubt this is a button she’ll ignore or a battle she’ll walk away from. Her roommates just escalated the war.

  Why did she call Sean and not me?

  Sean: hole won’t be fixed for three weeks.

  Zach: If her hole’s an issue…

  Me: Don’t go there

  Zach: Touchy or you wanna touchy

  Alex: Is it big?

  Zach: Holes shouldn’t be big

  Me: Stop talking, Zach

  Sean: As big as a large Pizza from Joe’s

  Ryan: Damn!

  Me: Why don’t you fix it?

  Zach: I think Dylan should fix it

  Sean: Building under contract

  Christian: Board it up

  Sean: Waiting on maintenance approval, but not main problem

  Christian: What is?

  Sean: Hole is by her door. You can sit on the couch and look at her bed. Another party planned for tonight.

  Me: Hole big enough for guy to get through?

  Just the idea of strangers going in and out of the apartment and able to look into Mary’s room, possibly get in there, sets my nerves on edge.

  Sean: Not quite, but…

  Ryan: Plan?

  Alex: Here?

  Sean: Her room’s pretty clean so she won’t ruffle Dylan’s feathers.

  I snort. That wasn’t the case twenty-four hours ago. Besides, Mary being a slob isn’t what I’m worried about—it’s how I’ll survive three weeks of her living here when she sees me only as a friend. It’s best that we remain that way, but it’s going to be damn hard.

  Lots of things are going to be hard.

  Ryan: Share with Mia

  Me: No

  Alex: Too injured

  Christian: Alex can share with one of us and Mary with Kels

  Alex: Not happening

  Christian: But what about Mary’s hole

  Zach: That’s Dylan’s concern

  Me: Stuff it

  Zach: Thrust would be more accurate

  Me: I swear to God, Zach, I’m going to burn your bras if you don’t shut it

  Sean: Seriously. It’s not safe here even if they do board it. Easy to remove

  And that is the sticking point. Mary is not safe, and I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her. None of the guys would.

  Ryan: We can make it work

  Christian: There’s enough room in the basement for two rooms

  Alex: Two?

  Christian: Mia and Mary

  Alex: I don’t need mine.

  Christian: That goes to Nina

  “When the hell did you find Nina?” Zach asks coming through the living room. “Why didn’t you tell us? That’s awesome.”

  What the hell am I going to do? There isn’t another place and I can’t afford a hotel. At least not a decent one.

  I guess I’m going to have to suck it up and hope no axe murderers come to any of the parties, or nobody decides my room looks like a good place to party if I’m not here.

  “I want a reduction in my rent until this is fixed.”

  “That I can do.”

  “Not good enough,” Sean says as he comes in from the living room.

  The landlord straightens and looks at him.

  “The room is not livable, so you’ve broken the lease. You can’t rent it as is, nor can you provide a safe place.”

  “If there was a place available, we’d move her,” Frank insists.

  “I have a place and we will move her there this weekend.”

  My heart skips a beat. Where? There isn’t a room at the brownstone.

  The landlord relaxes.

  “However, you will not charge her rent while this place is uninhabitable.”

  “Agreed.”

  At the knock at our door, Brit sighs and gets up.

  I hope it’s not the party starting back up. It’s not even one in the afternoon yet.

  Instead, a burly guy wearing a tool belt walks in and stops when he sees the hole. “I thought this was a minor repair. The entire section of the wall needs to be replaced.”

  “Are you serious?” That’s major construction.

  “And we can’t get to it for weeks.”

  “Weeks?” I squeak.

  “Got roof issues on three buildings that need patched and fixed between the snow and ice. Electrical issues in two buildings. Plumbing in another. Gotta deal with the safety issues first.” He heads back into the living room. “I’ll add it to the list and let you know when we can get to it.”

  “Subcontract this,” Sean says.

  “We don’t subcontract,” tool belt guy sneers.

  “If you have that much work, sounds to me like you need more workers or need to subcontract.”

  “I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

  “Can you at least board it up?” I ask.

  He sighs. “I’ll get a guy on it.”

  “When?” I demand.

  “Now. That won’t take long.”

  “Thanks, Tom,” the landlord says as he follows the guy out.

  “Want to grab your stuff?” Sean asks.

  “Where are you going to put me?” I finally ask. There literally is no space in that brownstone, no matter how big it is, unless I take up residence on the couch, and that will just be awkward for everyone.

  “We’ll figure it out,” he says.

  “Um, shouldn’t you ask your roommates?”

  “Already did,” he assures me. “Besides, it’s only temporary and we’ll make it work.”

  It’s not possible to make it work. “That’s okay. I’ll just make do here.”

  Both of his eyebrows raise and he stares me down. “Really? You want strange guys looking in your room?”

  “I can tape something over the hole.”

  “Because that will be super safe,” Sean retorts dryly.

  About as safe as a hole in my wall.

  “What about the hole. I can’t leave it unprotected.”

  “Where’s the patch job?” some guy calls as he comes in.

  “Problem solved,” Sean says and then steps out of my room. “Here.”

  The guy bends down and looks in, just shaking his head before he starts measuring.

  “Let’s go,” Sean finally says.r />
  “Fine.” So much for getting laundry done. Instead, I grab another bag because the one I normally carry is at the brownstone, and toss my pajamas and a change of clothes in it. The rest, I’ll worry about tomorrow. Maybe the hole won’t be so bad after it’s boarded.

  20

  “I haven’t exactly found her, yet,” I tell Zach.

  “Then what was Christian talking about?”

  So, I go on and tell him about everything that happened at child services and the phone call I’m waiting on.

  “So, you good with Mary being around?”

  “Sure.” If I say any more he’ll give me more shit, and I’m really not in the mood for it.

  “Don’t sound so thrilled.” He snorts. “I thought you liked her. Mia said the two of you were gone practically all night.”

  “Pizza, beer, and party,” I say.

  He studies my face. “Who trimmed your beard?”

  Zach is the only person in the house who would even notice. “Mary.”

  Then he grins at me. I hate his crooked, cocky grin.

  “Did it chafe in sensitive places?”

  “Stop.” I swear, out of all my friends, he is the one who always has sex on the brain. Him and Mia. “We are friends.”

  He laughs and leans forward, resting his elbows on the counter. “I get it.”

  “Do you?” I’m not sure he really does.

  “I may date a hell of a lot more than you do, but nobody that’s gotten under my skin.”

  That’s it exactly. Mary is under my skin and she started slipping there as soon as I met her.

  “Maybe it’s time you let someone reside there,” he says with a serious tone that Zach rarely shows.

  “You don’t have anyone,” I point out.

  “That’s because I haven’t met the right person yet.”

  “And Mary is?” My head warns me away, my heart wants her, and my gut is twisted over the issue.

  He studies me and smiles, not the cocky one, “Yeah, I think she might be. Don’t run from this one.”

  “I don’t run,” I argue.

  Zach snorts. “Sure you don’t.” Then heads for the basement.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Going to start figuring out how to get two bedrooms down there instead of one.”

  On the way out of the apartment I grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge while the maintenance guy was nailing a board over the hole in the wall. I didn’t care that it was a bottle of Shelby’s expensive wine. At this point, that bitch owes me.

  Sean heads back to work as I take a train to the brownstone. When I get there, I head right to the kitchen. I don’t care that it’s not two yet, I’m opening this damn wine and I’m going to enjoy it. If Mia wasn’t on such heavy meds I’d take it upstairs and share it with her. Too bad Kelsey’s not here. She’d enjoy drinking one of Shelby’s hundred dollar bottles just for the revenge of what that bitch has done to us.

  Or, I could share it with Dylan. Maybe the two of us could go up to his room, have a little wine, and see what happens.

  Except nothing would. I already know he’s not interested, why the hell do I have to keep reminding myself.

  The brownstone is completely quiet as I make my way to the kitchen. Somebody has to be around. The front door was unlocked.

  Dylan’s laptop is open on the island so he’s got to be here. I grab a wine glass and glance at the screen as I carry it to the island.

  “What did he write about Gino’s?”

  My eyes widen as I read. That is not a food article. Slipping onto the stool, I scroll to the top of the page.

  * * *

  After feasting on those perfect globes and teasing the coral nipples until they are puckered with anticipation and desire, I leave a trail of kisses down her flat abdomen, pausing only long enough to lick the small mole right beneath her belly button.

  Meg’s legs fall open, waiting, knowing where I’m going. Those same thighs, defined and strong from running and training are also soft, silky smooth. I slip beneath them so that they are over my shoulders and part her folds. Just the scent, that is all Meg, is enough to make me aroused. My cock is so hard it’s almost painful. The nub glistens, waiting, a pearl to be caressed. At the first touch of my tongue, Meg groans. I bite back a smile. I know exactly what she needs, what she wants, what she likes, and I’m going to take her there.

  Thrusting my fingers into her pussy, I reach for the small, rough patch as her walls clench around me and her juices flow. Mindful of the swelling and sensitivity of her clit, I caress and lick as my fingers tease. Her breath is heavy, panting, as her hips lift off the bed. The nub swells and her walls tighten around me. Meg grasps the sheets, clutching them in her hands as her legs stiffen, and she cries out my name.

  There is no better satisfaction than hearing my name on her lips as her orgasm washes over her.

  * * *

  “I wouldn’t mind him doing that to me.”

  Unfortunately, Dylan’s just not into me. It’s time to wake up and move on, and another reason why it would probably be a really bad idea to stay here for the next three plus weeks.

  “Doing what?” Dylan’s standing at a door that I assume leads to the basement. His face is tight and his eyes are almost cold.

  My face heats. “Did I say that out loud?”

  “What are you doing?”

  Shit. I’ve overstepped. I open a drawer. “Looking for a corkscrew.”

  His eyebrow arches and I slip from the stool. “It was open. I swear, I didn’t intentionally mean to read, but I glanced and a couple of words caught my attention…” This isn’t going well and I tilt my head. “That is not a food article about Gino’s. I mean the pizza was good and all, but I’m pretty sure I would have remembered if the rest of that had happened.”

  Dylan comes forward and pushes down the lid of his laptop. I guess my attempt at levity didn’t really work. I’ve never seen his grey eyes so hard before, and I take a step back.

  “Did you write that?”

  “It will stay between us,” Dylan warns.

  It’s not like I just read top secrets or nuclear codes. “Sure, but why?”

  “It’s personal.”

  “As in a memoir?” Damn, I wish I had been the one on the receiving end of that attention.

  “Hardly.” He snorts.

  Why else would he be writing…then it sinks in. “Do you write novels?” Giddiness bubbles up inside.

  His face takes on a rather pink hue. “I’m attempting to write novels.”

  “Dirty novels?” I grin. He already knows I have a weakness for erotica. How naughty are his books. Naughtier than I just read?

  “Novels with naughty scenes.”

  Well, that’s better than nothing. “Do you have a pen name? How are you published? Paper, e-book?”

  “I’m not.”

  ”Seriously! Because what I just read, well…”

  “That’s because you read erotica, remember.”

  “And I like it.”

  “Look, that’s only a small snippet. The book’s not good enough to publish.”

  “How do you know?” I counter.

  “Because I wrote it.”

  At that I have to roll my eyes. “We are all our own worst critics.”

  “Well, my opinion is accurate, okay?”

  “Can I read it?” Oh how I’d love to read something Dylan wrote. Especially if it has naughty parts.

  “No!” he practically yells.

  “Why not?”

  “Because it isn’t any good?”

  “Yeah you said that. I want to know who told you that.”

  Dylan looks away.

  “Well? Who?”

  “Nobody,” he mumbles.

  “So other people do like it.”

  His head snaps up. “Nobody has ever read it.”

  “Then how do you know it isn’t any good?”

  “Because I wrote it.”

  Our voices are getting louder
and louder. So I lower my tone. “We are going in circles, you realize that.”

  “We won’t be if you leave it alone.” He storms across the room and grabs his mug.

  “How can I? You wrote a novel and I want to read it.”

  “No!”

  “Is this what has you so anxious?” I gesture to the laptop. “Not sure where to go.” I grin. “I’ve got some excellent suggestions.”

  “I’m not anxious about the book.”

  “Then what’s bothering you?” Something certainly has him on edge. He has been since I woke from my nap earlier and nothing has changed. I just wish I knew why.

  “Nothing.” He dismisses me and picks up the bottle of wine I brought in. “Where did you get this?”

  “Stole it from Shelby.” He’s not going to change the subject that easy. “Why have you been pacing and why are you on edge?”

  His turns his back to me and braces his hands on the counter and drops his head.

  It really is something.

  “Do you really want to read the damn thing?” he finally asks quietly.

  So, my reading his book, which is he was adamantly against, is less important than what‘s on his mind. Interesting.

  “Yes. I do.”

  He slowly turns. “You will not tell a single person what you are reading or that I wrote it, or anything.”

  I use my index finger to make a cross over my heart.

  He takes a step forward. “You will take my laptop up to my room, and stay there behind closed doors.”

  He’s so serious that I can’t help myself. “What if I have to pee?”

  21

  The lasagna meat is simmering on the stove, the noodles are submerged in boiling water. There are four dozen peanut butter cookies on the counter cooling and another four dozen chocolate chip cookies cooling on the island.

  Now what can I do?

  Damn! I wish I had something to clean.

  Mrs. Kragen has been out—all fucking day—and hasn’t called me back.

  Mary is upstairs reading my book.

  Why the hell did I give into her?

  To get her to stop asking why I was on edge. I almost told her, but my problems aren’t her problems. I’d need to explain about my family, which could lead to more questions about my past, and any hope of me meaning anything more than a friend to Mary would be out the window.