Stupid Cupid

by Liz Hunter, Aka Mennen, Phyllis Campbell

  “Yeah,” Erica agreed.

  “Yeah, Tiffany echoed.

  Kevin threw his hands out. “Okay, okay. I’m out-voted.”

  He made sure everyone was in position and opened the door. The bunny hopped toward the relative warmth of the unheated garage.

  “Don’t let him get under the car,” Kevin warned. “Herd him up the steps and into the laundry room so he can thaw out.”

  The bunny seemed to be attracted to the warmth, because he let himself be shooed up two steps and into the tiled flooring of the laundry room.

  “Let’s get him something to eat!” Erica said.

  “We don’t have any rabbit food,” Kimmy said.

  “We have fruit and vegetables, carrots and lettuce and green beans and apples and everything under the sun,” Erica said.

  Tiffany hunkered down to the frozen bunny rabbit. “We’ll take good care of you, Bunny.”

  He wiggled his ears and pooped on the floor.

  “And how do we get acquainted exactly?” Tara asked.

  He’d followed her upstairs where she gathered dirty clothes to throw in the washer.

  “Well, you know, sexual compatibility is very important in a relationship.”

  “Really? Is there a definitive test for sexual compatibility that I’m not aware of?”

  “It’s mostly trial and error, but I’ve developed a fairly reliable criterion. I haven’t had a chance to patent it yet, since I haven’t had the opportunity to field test it extensively at this point.”

  “What’s it called?”

  “Ah, duh … The Tingle Test!”

  “Neat name. Triple T’s.”

  “Right. That was intentional.”

  “And how does it work?”

  “We analyze reactions to sexual stimuli.”

  “Ooh, sounds kinky.”

  “No, no, no. Not kinky. Scientific all the way.” He drew back and pinned her with his most sales-oriented look. “Would you be interested in participating in alpha testing?”

  “Does it pay well?”

  “Not financially, at this point, but there may be residuals in the future.”

  “Still sounds kinky, although I’m not sure I like the idea of … residuals.” Residuals could be good, like payments long after services rendered, or bad, as in creating memories and conjuring up dreams that turn into pipe dreams. She had to keep reminding herself that any woman who interested him would be competing among a dozen others for his attention.

  His voice drew her back to the subject at hand. “So, The Tingle Test operates exactly as it sounds. You submit to stimulus and we scientifically record reaction.”

  “Okay, I’m ready. I agree to your criterion.”

  “You don’t even know what it is yet.”

  “I know.” She turned serious suddenly. “But you’re driving me crazy. Do something beside make promises. You’d make a good salesman. Oh, I forgot. You are a salesman. Problem is, you don’t deliver.”

  “Says who?”

  “Me, except I don’t have much experience. I didn’t date much in college, I was too busy studying, and my brothers were always vetting my boyfriends, scaring them off. They can be big bullies sometimes, especially when they’re determined to protect me. It was embarrassing, finally getting a date and having to sneak around. They still found out somehow, and would either get rid of him or they’d follow us around all night. I don’t know which was worse.”

  Frown lines creased Harry’s forehead. “They’re not in the mob, are they? I hear they’re all around in Chicago.”

  “Oh, goodness no. I had a lot of girlfriends though. They all wanted to date my brothers.”

  She could see the sympathy in his eyes, and that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted passion. She wanted to make up for all she’d missed growing up with overprotective brothers.

  Now that he knew her story, Harry, too, seemed to be afraid she’d break. It was sweet of him to treat her so gently, especially with his Casanova reputation, except she didn’t want sweet and gentle handling, she wanted passion, wild unabashed passion.

  He scattered butterfly kisses across her face, tickling her skin, while she wanted him to lay the kiss of the century on her.

  “Any tingles so far?”

  “Minimal. I felt something, but it wouldn’t register on the Howard scale.”

  He grunted. “Come here.” He pulled her into his arms and toppled her on the bed. She giggled and tried to slide away. She couldn’t resist smiling when he tiptoed his fingers across her midriff. She raised her eyebrows. He raised his hand to cover his breast.

  “I’m feeling some tingles,” she warned.

  “How strong?”

  “Come closer.”

  He moved just an inch or two, but it was enough to feel his heat and wonder how all that energy the heat generated would feel if he stopped treating her like fine crystal. Surely there was some way to unleash that power. She slipped her hand under his sweater and covered his male breast with her hand, kneading the flesh around his nipple with her fingertips.

  “Are you feeling any tingles yet?”

  Six

  “Kevin? Kevin? Kevin!” Tiffany tugged on the boy’s shirt when he continued to ignore her.

  “WHAT!”

  “The bunny turned into a cartoon people.”

  “What are you talking about?’

  “Yeah, he did.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute. I’m trying to get him some food.” He took the bowl of fresh fruit and vegetables in one hand, a bowl of water in the other and headed for the laundry room. “Now let’s see what’s going on.”

  “He’s not there anymore,” Tiffany informed him.

  “He must be hiding behind the dryer or in the closet. He couldn’t have got out.”

  “He’s in the family room.”

  “He can’t be. How could he get over the gate I put up? Did you let him out?”

  “I telled you! He turned into a cartoon people.”

  Kevin marched across the kitchen, sloshing water from the bowl, and crossed the hall to the family room. He stopped dead.

  “She’s right, you know,” the cartoon character bunny said, straightening his right ear. It had the tendency to flop over when he was relaxed.

  “Hi, Bunny,” Tiffany said.

  “Hello, cutie pie. You’re a very good girl for rescuing me from a certain death out there. It’s colder than a witches ti—Sorry.”

  “This is not happening, I am dreaming, I am hallucinating,” Kevin chanted.

  Baraboo woofed and licked the bunny’s hand.

  “Hey, boy,” Bunny warned Kevin. “Don’t drop the food. I’m real and I’m starving.”

  “Cartoon characters do not exist.”

  “You’re right, but the Easter Bunny does, and I’m him.”

  Kevin gingerly placed the two bowls on the table. Backing away, he said, “I’m going back to bed so I can finish my nightmare.”

  Kimmy walked into the family room. “Oh my God, it’s the Easter Bunny,” she said.

  “You said God’s name in vain,” Erica said, echoing her mother’s common comment. She sat at the table and continued to color as if nothing of note were happening. “You can’t swear or you’ll go to hell.”

  “Forget about hell. The Easter Bunny is here! For real!” Kimmy said.

  Now that the shock was over, the children gathered around the table and sat in the presence of the most famous fuzzy rabbit on earth. “You’re early, Bunny. It’s not Easter for months,” Kevin said.

  “Did you bring chocolate and colored eggs?” Erica asked.

  “Where’s Cupid?” Kimmy asked.

  “That’s the problem, Guys,” Bunny admitted. “Cupid is in trouble this Valentine’s Day. He had a little problem with his archery last week and created some … mismatched couples, let’s say.”

  “You mean like Tara and Harry?” Kevin asked.

  “Huh?” the girls all said.

  Bunny blushed. “You mean
they’re here? Together?”

  Kevin looked at the other three children. They all giggled. “Yeah, but they’re not getting along too good,” Erica admitted. “She says he’s a wo—womanizer.”

  “That’s good. We can’t let them get along,” Bunny said “They’re not meant for each other. I promised Cupid I’d help fix his mess.”

  “You know we saw you and Cupid on the wall at the florist shop,” Erica said.

  “Really? Transmission signals really got screwed up if you could see us.”

  “I’m glad we did.” Kevin said. “Otherwise we wouldn’t believe you were even here right now. So what can we do to help you?”

  “Keep them apart, keep them fighting. It’s only one more day until Valentine’s Day, and then the spell will be broken.”

  “I kind of like Harry,” Tiffany said. “He took us to a movie.”

  “You slept through it,” Erica said.

  “That doesn’t matter,” Kimmy said in Harry’s defense. “He still paid for our tickets and popcorn and soda. And he took us to dinner, too!”

  “Very generous of him. He must have been shot hard,” Bunny observed, munching the fruit and vegetables down with gusto. “Very tasty. Would you have a cold beer to rinse that down?”

  “We’re not allowed to touch alcoholic beverages,” Kevin informed him.

  “Oh, too bad.”

  “Isn’t that what caused this problem in the first place?” Kimmy observed.

  Bunny’s ears twitched but he didn’t comment.

  “How are we supposed to hide you while you’re here?”

  “Easy, I’ll shift back into animal form. You need a litter pan in there though. Sorry about the mess.”

  “There’s a bag of litter in the trunk of the car!” Kevin said. “Dad put it in there in case we ever get stuck. I think there’s a plastic pan somewhere around, too.”

  “What about Baraboo?”

  “We’ll keep the gate up.”

  “But his water bowl and food dish is in there,” Kimmy said.

  “I can take care of the mutt. He won’t bother me. We’re best buds, right, Baraboo?” Bunny looked down at the floor next to his feet, where the St. Bernard lay, tail thumping with his unspoken promise to preserve the magical bunny.

  “Yeah, see? We’re cool.”

  Upstairs in the bedroom, things were heating up. Tara had Harry’s sweater off and his shirt unbuttoned, and her sweater was pushed up around her shoulders. He lathed one hardened nipple with his tongue through her bra while trying to ease his hand into her pants without scaring her off. Her eyes were closed and her head thrown back as if held in ecstasy, making him feel like He-Man. He only hoped that she wouldn’t pull a She-Ra number and draw her sword.

  Her little story about her overprotective brothers pounded through his mind. Surely any woman with four children by two fathers would be wise to the world by now. So far she seemed to enjoy his advances. His shirt and shoes were off, and he ran his toes up and down her jean-clad leg. She inched closer to him and he let his leg rest on top of hers, bringing them close together. Intimately close, he soon realized, as his jeans tightened in the crotch.

  “You’re getting awfully close,” she warned.

  “Any closer and I’ll be inside you.”

  “That’s not a good idea.”

  He groaned, wanting her so badly he couldn’t take any more. “Let me help you with those jeans,” he offered.

  She stilled and he knew immediately that he’d rushed her. He moved away a bit.

  “This is where I remind you that we’ve only known each other a few days,” she whispered.

  “I’m aware of that, but thanks for the reminder.”

  “And there are four kids downstairs who might come clomping up the stairs any minute.”

  “We better hurry up then.”

  He slid his hand down across her belly. Her eyes flew open, and he smiled to reassure her. “Relax for me. I won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

  She remained still and watched him, eyes at half mast.

  He backed up, sensing he needed to get her hotter. With his fingertips he pressed against the mound of her breast, tiptoeing around her nipple. “How does that feel?”

  “Tingly.”

  “How far up the scale?”

  “Maybe … six and a half.”

  “Come on, it should be an eight, at least.”

  He covered her nipple with his mouth and sucked gently.

  “Eight!”

  “You’re welcome to try the Tingle Test on me, too.” While she was distracted he eased his lower half marginally closer. She noticed.

  “You don’t play fair.”

  He laughed. “That’s why I’m so popular with the ladies.”

  She froze and he realized he’d made a major blunder. “Don’t leave. That was a joke!”

  She pushed against him, and he fought her escape, nipping her belly, her nipples, shoulders, shushing her and pleading for her forgiveness. She bit him back, and he pinned her bottom-half down with his legs, working his mouth down her belly, popping the snap on her jeans. She stilled for a long moment, then fought him, bucking and kicking.

  Let her fight. She’d love it, and it really turned him on. There would be no more teasing, he was fighting for his destiny. “You’re mine, and I’m damn well going to claim you.”

  “Listen to me, Harry! Stop! I thought we talked this out before, I’m not ready for this.”

  Her words finally penetrated his brain. “Oh my God, what am I doing? Tara, I’m sorry, so sorry.” He hid his face against her breast.

  Even though he was horrified at his behavior, passion still throbbed within him. It wasn’t likely to go away with her lying next to him. Reluctantly, he sat up and swung his legs off the bed. She stirred, and he spotted her sweater on the floor. He handed it to her.

  She jerked the sweater out of his hands. “The kids are downstairs, probably tearing each others’ hair out by now.”

  He really didn’t want to hear about the kids. He wanted to find some way to explain his behavior. There wasn’t any, so he kept to her subject. “They’re well-behaved kids. You do a good job with them.”

  “They have their moments,” she said, sarcasm heavy in her voice.

  “We all do.” He sighed heavily.

  “You’re having a guilt trip, right?” she guessed. “I still don’t understand what happened. You have a dozen women that you service in quarterly installments, and Number One, you try cheating on them with me, and Number Two, you try forcing me.”

  “I said I was sorry. I just lost control I’m not used to a woman refusing my advances.”

  “Obviously. You’re such a twit, you can’t even be loyal to your twelve regular partners.” She flounced off the bed, picked clothes up off the floor and threw Harry’s items at him. “What does that say about me?”

  “You have no reason to feel guilty. I forced you.”

  “I probably gave you mixed signals. I should have stopped long before I did.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “That I let myself be a victim, and I don’t like the way I feel. That I don’t respect you, but I want you; that I know I should stay away from you, but I can’t seem to help myself.”

  He walked to her and pulled her in his arms. “I know exactly how you feel. I’m in the same boat. But we’ll get through this. When the snow quits and the roads are open again, I’ll get out of your life. As soon as I know you’ll be safe.”

  “That’s pretty funny, because as long as you’re around, I don’t think I’ll ever be safe.”

  “We have something to show you,” Erica the peacemaker told Tara.

  “If it’s alive, I don’t want to know about it, okay?”

  “It’s not bad! We were good Samaritans this morning and rescued the sweetest little bunny rabbit from certain death. Tiffany found it.”

  “Where is it now? Pooping in the laundry room, I’ll bet.”


  “No, he’s quite civilized,” Kevin interrupted. “He uses a litter pan.”

  “Which we don’t have,” Tara pointed out. She closed her eyes, wishing she could get out of this bad mood.

  “We’re using a makeshift one,” Kevin assured her. “Remember when Dad had the ankle injury and had to soak it so many times a day? I found the basin he used.”

  “I’m impressed. Where’d you find litter?”

  “In the trunk of the car.”

  “I won’t even ask.” Tara knew when to fight battles, and this didn’t come close to qualifying. “You may keep the rabbit as long as I don’t need to feed it or empty the litter pan. And please use gloves when you clean the litter pan. You don’t know what diseases they carry.”

  “Rabbits are clean,” Kevin protested.

  “They’re probably cleaner outside, if you get my drift.”

  “He was freezing outside!”

  “Kevin, I know you’re young but you’re also smart and realistic, even more so than I am. Did you ever hear of ‘Survival of the Fittest’?”

  “No! I mean, I understand the concept, but it doesn’t apply in this situation.”

  “Okay,” she said in a dismissing voice. “Enough said. I trust your judgment. Introduce me to this phenomenal rabbit.”

  Kevin picked the white rabbit out of the dog’s bed that had been Baraboo’s when he was just a pup. Hard to believe he’d ever been that small. Kevin placed the furry white ball in Tara’s arms, and the bunny seemed to sense that it was crunch time, that he had to behave or risk dire straits. He melted into her figure, rubbing his head against her breasts, her nipples in particular. Repeatedly.

  “Hey, Rabbit, watch it or you’ll be out on your ear. What a fresh little creature you are.” She turned to Kevin. “What does Baraboo think of him?”

  “He’s cool about it. He seems to protect Bunny.”

  “That’s sweet. I’ve heard of big dogs doing this, taking care of family pets, or family members. We should buy him an extra box of Milk Bones next time we go to the grocery store.”

  In the meantime the Bunny Rabbit seemed more interested in Tara’s curves than in future Milk Bones awards.

  “Bad bunny,” she chastised.

  Seven

  Valentine’s Eve dawned clear and cold, about 30 below zero. The highway department blamed the slippery roads on the bitter cold since the road salt only worked to temperatures above 15.