The Guy in the Middle (The Underdogs 3)

They all reply in unison.

“No fucking way.”

“I’m not missing this.”

“Sorry, man, no can do.”

“Dinner!” Mom calls from the house.

“Oh, good, I’m hungry,” Harper chimes in, throwing another jab.

“You can sit next to me,” Trevor spouts.

I’m too pissed at everyone in my life at the moment to see anything but red. “You sure you’re staying? I mean, I wouldn’t want to blink while we’re saying grace and miss seeing that beautiful ass of yours walking out the door.”

“Lance,” Trevor protests as Harper holds up a glove tossing a look over her shoulder.

“I’ve got this, little brother.” She turns to me. “And just how long do you plan on punishing me for that?”

“Not long after you see yourself out.”

“Well, good thing we all agree, don’t we, boys, that your grudges are getting old?”

All three of them speak up.

“This isn’t fucking funny,” I grit out.

“You’ve got issues.” She taps me again with her glove.

“I’ve got issues?” I press a glove to my chest. “You’re the coward. Sure you aren’t going to tuck your tail between your legs again? I think we both know I’m the fighter here.”

She shrugs. “Not much of one at the moment.”

“You’re making a fool of yourself,” I seethe with venom. “You need to go back from which you came and forget about this place, me. You’re out of your depth and league, sweetheart.”

She stops her movement as Trevor curses in disgust. “Fucking asshole.”

Harper walks up to me, tilting her head up, her eyes earnest, all amusement gone. “Maybe I am, then again, I know just how to handle you, Lance Prescott. Don’t forget that.”

“Think so, huh?”

“I know so.”

In a blink, my trunks and underwear are at my ankles. Bare-assed and cock dangling, I stare down at her, mouth parted, as the guys howl with laughter. But she’s not laughing, not at all. She’s pissed.

“You want a worthy opponent, Prescott, you’ve fucking got one! See you at dinner, asshole. And you can watch my beautiful ass walk out of the barn all you want, but I’ll be the one saying grace tonight.”

And with that, she stomps out of the barn.

Buck ass naked, aside from my trainers and the trunks around my ankles, I watch helplessly as the guys follow her out.

“If you don’t marry her,” Trevor calls back over his shoulder, “I sure as shit will.”

Harper

Dinner isn’t going much better than cocktail hour. Lance sits at his father’s side at the head of the table. Next to him, Jack shakes uncontrollably, fixating on his forkful of roast to get enough of it in his mouth. It’s the most uncomfortable silence I’ve ever endured, even with Jeannie chatting me up. After a few painful attempts, Jack leaps from his seat.

“Excuse me.”