Blue Beaver: Awkward Book Two

by Heller, JB

  My attention is snatched away by the sound of something crashing in the lounge area, then a high-pitched screech. Charlotte is plastered against the far wall, her eyes wide as she stutters, “G-giant r-rat!”

  I look around the room, searching for the rodent, but come up empty. Juda and Asher do the same, shifting the coffee table and looking under the couch until Charlotte speaks up again.

  She points at me. “Wh-what is that?”

  Delilah doesn’t respond well to loud noises, so she’s fully in my lap now, shaking like a leaf. I stroke her long neck and coo, “Shh, it’s okay, baby. Don’t mind the crazy lady.”

  “Crazy?” she shrieks, pressing her palm to her chest. “I’m not the one cuddling an oversized rat!”

  I narrow my stare at her. “Delilah is not vermin. I’ll have you know she’s a pedigree llama.” Delilah snuggles into my neck, hiding her face from the banshee screaming at her. I don’t blame the poor little thing.

  Charlotte tilts her head to the side, examining me as my hand continues to run long, soothing strokes down Delilah’s neck. Asher and Juda gave up the rat search and are now sitting back on the couch, their eyes flicking back and forth between Charlotte and me.

  Neither of us is willing to break the stare-down we’ve got going on. Then she goes and licks her damn lip, and I drop my eyes. Grumbling obscenities under my breath, I gently place Delilah on the floor, then go about making her a bedtime bottle.

  The whole time, my mind is on Charlotte’s lips. How can one simple action turn me on so damn much? My dick presses so firmly against my zipper it’s painful. Reaching down, I rearrange my junk but freeze when Charlotte steps into the kitchen, her eyes going to my hand. I look down, seeing what she’s seeing, then release my dick like it’s on fire.

  Charlotte purses her lips for a brief moment, then curls them up into a flirtatious grin. “Llamas really do it for you, huh?”

  My jaw slackens, then I glare at her as I stalk towards her, backing her against the pantry door. I stop mere inches from her, bracing my forearms on either side of her head. “No, Charlotte, I’m not into bestiality. What I am into, apparently, is you.”

  Her big hazel eyes widen impossibly as she stares back up at me. They roam over my face, then flick down to my crotch where I’m now sporting full wood. Her tongue slips out to wet those perfect lips that I haven’t stopped thinking about since she kissed me. Goddamn.

  I am usually a gentleman in every sense of the word. But right now, this very second, I want nothing more than to throw her over my shoulder and take her to my bedroom.

  It’s a struggle keeping my arms pressed to the pantry door, not touching her. She asked me to stop before, and I won’t touch her again until she asks me to. Fuck, I want her to ask me. I want her to beg me.

  Breathing through my nose, I pick up her deliciously enticing scent. It’s just as enticing as everything else about her. Keeping my gaze on hers, I wait for her to say something—anything—in response to my statement. But for once, she’s completely silent.

  Her hands shift from their place at her sides to clutch her stomach.

  I frown. “What’s wrong?” I ask as pain flits across her features. She inhales deeply through her nose, then releases her breath slowly through her mouth. I tilt my head. “Charlotte, what’s happening right now?”

  She swallows. “I need my painkillers. And a heat pack, if you’ve got one.”

  The crease between my brows deepens. “Why? What’s wrong?” I cup her jaw as her face crumples in pain.

  “I have endometriosis. It’s a girl thing,” she mutters through clenched teeth. “I need to sit down.”

  I move immediately, following behind her as she shuffles to a chair at the dining table. Collapsing into it, she folds herself in half, and I watch all the colour leech from her face. Fuck me, what the hell is endometriosis?

  “Asher,” I snap. “Where are your heat packs?”

  He turns to face me and jumps to his feet the second his eyes land on Charlotte. He’s sprinting to his room a second later, no questions asked.

  I crouch at Charlotte’s side. “Asher’s getting you a heat pack. What else do you need? What can I do?”

  Unshed tears pool in her eyes. It’s a punch to the gut. I’m winded by the look of sheer anguish in her gaze. “Jesus, sweetheart, tell me what to do.”

  “My bag,” she whispers. “I have some pills in there.”

  I shoot to my feet, but Juda is already making his way over to us with her huge handbag in tow. He hands it to me, then goes to the kitchen, grabs a glass, and fills it from the tap.

  Her bag has so much shit in it, and I have no idea what I’m actually looking for. It’s like Mary freaking Poppins’ bag of tricks. Finally, my fingers curl around a bottle at the bottom, and I pull it out. “Is this it?” I ask, holding it up in front of her.

  She nods and snatches it from my hand, twisting off the cap and throwing a few pills in her mouth before Juda can even give her the glass of water. He passes it to her after she’s already swallowed them dry. I cringe. I’ve never been able to do that.

  Asher returns with the huge heat pack he usually uses for his back and throws it in the microwave. Is there something else I should be doing right now? She asked for heat and pills, but there must be more I can do to help her. She looks so uncomfortable. Then it hits me.

  “Charlotte, I’m going to pick you up, okay?”

  She nods but stays silent. I slide one arm under her knees. The other curls around her waist, and I stand. “I’m taking you to my bed. You’ll be more comfortable there,” I tell her as I close the distance to my bedroom at the end of the hall. Juda sprints ahead of us to open the door.

  Her body twists into me, and I tighten my hold on her. I can feel every one of her deep inhales and her shuddering releases. Juda pulls back my covers, and I gently place her on the mattress. She curls into herself as I tug the covers back up and over her.

  Running my hand over my head, I grip a fistful of hair and stare down at her as her small body rocks in my bed. Asher bursts in a second later with his heat pack.

  “Charlotte,” he says as he approaches. “Where do you want it, honey?”

  I frown at his term of endearment but don’t dwell on it. I’m too worried about the woman who stormed into my world just hours ago.

  She doesn’t reply, just reaches a hand out for the offered heat pack and snatches it from Asher. The three of us stand around the bed, watching her.

  “Stop staring. I’ll be fine,” she mumbles. When none of us respond, she sighs heavily. “Creepers,” she whispers under her breath, and I crack a smile.

  That sounds more like the woman I met this afternoon.

  Just freaking great.

  This had to happen right now? I grit my teeth to keep from gasping as another stabbing pain shoots through my pelvis.

  Half an hour ago, I was horny. Now, I’m curled up in the object of my desire’s bed … in excruciating pain. The varying expressions of horror covering the faces of the three men surrounding me are the very reason I don’t do relationships—well, part of the reason.

  The heat pack is helping already, and I can take a deep breath. I meet Elijah’s eyes. He’s worried. “I’m okay, really,” I say, but his frown deepens.

  “I think we have different definitions of the word okay.”

  I grin. “Yeah, we might. But seriously, I’m used to this. I’ll be fine.”

  His eyes bug. “What do you mean you’re used to this? This is not fucking normal.”

  Shrugging, I tell him the truth. “It is for me. I’ve lived with this for years.”

  “Years? Jesus, what’s wrong with you?” Juda bursts out.

  “Endo-something,” Elijah answers his brother.

  Juda looks confused. “And what the fuck is that?”

  I give him the blanket answer I give most people who find out I have it. “Lady problems. Thank the gods you’re a dude,” I say with a wink.

  Asher, who ha
s remained quiet throughout this conversation, suddenly shoves a notepad and pen in my face. “Write it down.”

  Scribbling the word endometriosis on a piece of paper, I hand it back to him. He pulls his phone out of his back pocket and immediately begins tapping away, referencing the notepad then focusing back on his phone. Both Juda and Elijah move closer to him and look over his shoulder as he does this.

  It’s strange. I’ve never had anyone look it up to see what I’m talking about before. I watch them for a few minutes until I can’t fight the drowsiness that comes from the painkillers I had to take. I give in to the weight of my lids and close my eyes.

  * * *

  I groan, groggy from my painkiller-induced sleep, and shift to get more comfortable.

  My eyes flash open—someone is spooning me.

  I roll to face said someone only to scream my lungs out at the sight before me.

  There is a llama in the bed.

  A fucking llama.

  The creature startles awake and screeches back at me. Its long limbs kick out, and it lands a solid hoof to the vagina. Tears prickle my eyes as I coil into myself, clutching my throbbing beaver.

  Two seconds pass, then the bedroom door is flung open so hard it bounces off the wall behind it and slams shut again. Muttered curses filter through as it’s opened with more care the second time.

  Elijah stands in the open doorway in nothing but a pair of long flannel sleep pants. If I wasn’t in the middle of nursing a broken vagina, I’d take time to appreciate the view.

  “What happened?” he asks, eyes wild, searching the dimly lit room.

  I watch him take two long strides to the side of the bed and flick on a lamp. The overgrown rodent flings itself at him like I’m the bad guy in this scenario. I glare at it. Manipulative little—

  “Shh, it’s okay, Dilly. It’s okay, baby.” He soothes the furry beast.

  “I’m not!” I blurt. “That thing was spooning me, then it kicked me in the vaj so hard Betty was seeing stars.”

  He pauses, his hand in mid-air, about to stroke the llama’s freakishly long neck, and stares at me. “Wha—who’s Betty?”

  I know I’m giving him crazy eyes right now. But it can’t be helped. I’m in the midst of an emotional breakdown. “Betty is my vagina!” I cry. And that’s when I notice two more shirtless men standing in the room with us. Great. This is just freaking peachy.

  Juda is clearly trying not to laugh. I say trying because the ginormous grin on his stupid face and the shuddering of his torso is giving him away. Asshole. At least Asher has the decency to turn and face the wall to hide his mirth.

  Meanwhile, Elijah is still staring at me, slack-jawed.

  You know how sometimes you just know you’re going to have a shit-tastic day before it’s even really started? Well, today is one of those days.

  I’m sitting on the couch, nursing a steaming mug of tea that Elijah just made me, replaying the last twelve hours in my head, going over every detail that brought me to this point.

  “You look like you’re thinking pretty hard there,” Asher says as he takes a seat beside me.

  I nod. “I’m just trying to figure out where I went wrong.”

  Leaning over, he rests his thick forearms on his knees and faces me. What is it with this family and the sexy forearms?

  His brows furrow in concern. “What do you mean?”

  I lick my lips and shuffle around, leaning my side into the back of the couch so I can look at him properly. “Well, yesterday I was going about my business like normal, and today, I woke up with a llama who assaulted my womanhood.”

  Asher snorts. “Assaulted your womanhood? You’re a hoot, Charlotte. I’m so glad your car broke down. I haven’t laughed this much in ages.”

  Raising an unimpressed brow, I stare at his smirking face. “So glad I could be of service,” I deadpan.

  He reaches a big hand over and musses my hair. “Me too.”

  My eyes pop. “First, don’t ever touch my hair. And second, you should look up the term sarcasm. You clearly don’t understand what it is.”

  “Oh, I do. I just chose to ignore it,” he says with a wink, stands, then joins Elijah and Juda.

  I have to admit, I could get used to this. Kicking my legs up on the cushions, I lean back against the armrest and watch the three brothers move around the kitchen, preparing breakfast. It sure is a sight to behold.

  I’m about to take another sip of my tea when the flea bag trots into the lounge and jumps up on the end of the couch near my feet. I scowl at it. The nerve! After what she did to me, she thinks she can just waltz in here and share a seat with me? I don’t think so.

  “Shoo, shoo, you little beast,” I whisper harshly at it while doing the classic shooing motion with my free hand.

  She ignores me.

  No surprises there. I’m about to get up and move to the single-seater when the shrill ringing of a phone pierces the air. Reagan! I run down the hall to the office I made my call in last night and snatch the phone up, hitting the answer button.

  “Reagan? Please be Reagan.”

  “Char, I’m so sorry, I only just got your messages! Are you okay? Where are you?” Reagan’s sweet voice fills my ears, and I sigh in relief.

  I fill her in on my whereabouts, and she tells me she’s on her way with Rhett in tow. My shoulders slump in relief. My rescue party is coming for me.

  I slept on the couch last night and let Charlotte have my bed. She looked so beautiful curled up in my sheets, her red hair splayed over my white pillowcases. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t stare at her for a good half-hour before finally leaving her alone and crashing out on the couch.

  For the first time in a long time, I woke up with pep in my step, even though I’m too big to comfortably sleep on the couch. It was her. Everything about her makes my heart beat faster. She makes me feel alive. I never know what she’s going to do or say next, and it’s exhilarating.

  The boys and I read up on endometriosis a little bit last night, and it sounds like a shitshow of epic proportions. I’ve never been so thankful to have a dick.

  I’m cracking eggs into the pan when Charlotte enters the kitchen.

  “I assume that was your friend?”

  She smiles so bright it lights up her whole face. “Yeah, she and her boyfriend are on their way to get me. He’s a mechanic, so he’ll work his voodoo car magic and get me on the road again.”

  I nod, turning my focus back to the eggs as I try not to let my disappointment show. My chest squeezes with the knowledge that I’ll probably never see Charlotte again. That this was all just a random, one-in-a-hundred-thousand-chance meeting.

  A sense of urgency bubbles up in my gut, telling me I have to do something, anything, to ensure I see her again. But what? We have nothing in common. There is no logical reason for us to reconnect.

  Fuuuck … I grip the back of my neck. There has to be something.

  Delilah sidles up to me, nudging my hip with her nose. She’s hungry, and I’ve been so distracted with Charlotte this morning I haven’t even started preparing her bottle. I scratch between her big ears as I remove the last of the eggs from the pan. “I’ll make it now, baby.”

  “I already did,” Asher says, waving Delilah’s bottle in front of my face. “I’ll feed her; you finish up in here.”

  I’m not used to him being up this early. It’s weird, but not surprising since Charlotte’s panicked shrieks woke us all this morning. Delilah scurries off after Asher, and I watch as Charlotte’s face scrunches up in what I think is distaste.

  “You feed that thing a bottle? Doesn’t it eat grass and stuff?” she asks, looking between Asher and myself.

  I shrug. “Yes, through the day when she goes out to the yards with me. But she’s too young to go without the bottle yet. Her mother … she, uh … she didn’t make it. I’ve raised her from a newborn cria to the little rascal you see now.”

  Charlotte pauses, her gaze fixed on me. Then she sighs dramatically a
nd rolls her eyes towards the ceiling. “Well, I can’t hate on her now, can I? What kind of bitch would that make me, hating on an orphan?”

  My lips purse. “Ah, yeah, I guess so.”

  She shakes her head and rounds the kitchen island separating us. “You need a hand with any of this?”

  “No, it’s all done now. Time to eat.” I wink at her, pick up the plates loaded with eggs, bacon, and toast, and take them to the table.

  She follows along behind me, muttering, “I could have carried a plate or something.”

  Once we’re all seated and digging into our food, Charlotte announces, “Reagan and Rhett will be here in about an hour to pick me up. I just want to thank you …” her eyes meet each of ours, “… all of you, for everything you did for me last night. And apologise for being a burden on you.”

  My knife and fork clatter to the table. “Excuse me? What do you mean, a burden? You weren’t a burden, Charlotte. You’re probably the most exciting thing to happen around here in a long fucking time.”

  Shit. I said fuck.

  “Uh, I mean, in a long damn time.”

  She bites down on her bottom lip and grins. “It’s okay; you can say fuck. I say it all the time.”

  I close my eyes. The sight of her is just too much. And hearing her say fuck? Well, it makes me think about fucking. And that’s the last thing that should be on my mind right now, especially when surrounded by my brothers. But knowing them, they’re probably thinking about it now, too … perverts.

  “Hell, you sure you have to go?” Juda says. “You’re kind of awesome. I wouldn’t mind keeping you around for a little while.” He says this with a wicked grin, and I kick him under the table. He glares at me, and I glare right back at the little shit.

  Charlotte just snorts and rolls her eyes at his attempt at seduction—which makes me really fucking happy.

  She pats his arm. “Oh, honey, if I stuck around, it wouldn’t be for you.” Then her eyes land on … me.