Hissy Fit (Southern Gentleman 1)

I grinned as she pushed open her screen door with one elbow.

“Uhh,” I teased. “You look a little rough.”

She blew some of her hair out of her eyes, but it fell right back into place.

She sighed.

I helped her out by tucking it behind her ear.

“I gotta use the bathroom, then I’ll finish,” I said.

“I’ll change so I can help,” she murmured softly, waving her hand at her clothes in explanation.

I grinned at her attire.

She had on another pair of tight jeans, these even tighter than the ones that she had on yesterday. She was also wearing a pair of worn-in cowboy boots that were definitely not something that you worked in. Not with those pointy-assed toes and sparkly pink glitter decorative tassels.

“Don’t change on my account,” I said. “But the toilet paper is almost out, I just have the stuff at the top to get. Then we can start on the back…if you have time and something to feed me with.”

She grinned. “I just made fried chicken and mashed potatoes, but they have to cook in the oven for a few minutes. That’s my mama’s secret to the ultimate crispiness on the breading. Once that’s done, we can eat, and then I’ll help you.”

I dabbed at a bit of chocolate on her cheek and showed it to her on one outstretched finger.

“And this?” I teased.

She smiled, her eyes flicking up to mine. “Dessert.”

I felt things in my belly clench.

“What if what I want for dessert is you?” I teased.

I felt all of her attention focus on me.

“I’d say yes, absolutely a hundred percent yes, but you were the one who told me you had something to do today,” she pointed out.

I did, indeed, have something to do later today. I had to go eat with my parents, and I fully planned on bringing her along.

She just didn’t know it yet.

I hadn’t wanted to tell her because I knew she’d likely freak out and try to overanalyze everything, so I figured springing it on her was in my best interest.

“Bathroom…then I’ll climb that tree and take care of the last little bit.” I bopped her on the nose with one finger. “And I want to take you with me later if that’s okay. It’s nothing fancy or anything. In fact, what you’re wearing right now is perfect. Well, minus the chocolate streaks and flour dusting.”

She looked down at her boots and blushed. “I liked them,” she tried to explain them away.

I grinned. “I like them, too, darlin’.”

With that, I walked down her hallway to the bathroom and shut the door.

I heard the screen door bang closed, signaling she’d gone outside and felt more than comfortable to take my time.

Only, I likely shouldn’t have.

Why?

Because the woman that I freakin’ loved was a goddamn lunatic, that’s why.

Why was she a lunatic?

Well, when I came outside, it was to find her boots off in the middle of the yard, and a pair of mismatched socks not far away.

The second thing that I saw was Raleigh, about halfway up the tree, trying to reach some toilet paper with one of those grabber thing-a-ma-jigs that lets handicapped—and lazy—people pick stuff up off the floor without bending over.

She was stretched out on a limb precariously, and not only was her arm extended as far as she could get it to go, but she was also holding the grabber out in front of her, too. She was inches away from grabbing the long piece of toilet paper when my brain finally caught up with what she was doing, and I felt my heart jump out of my chest.

“Are you out of your freakin’ mind?” I bellowed.

Raleigh shrieked…and that’s how she fell out of the tree and broke her arm.

***

Raleigh glared at me. “Don’t you even think about it.”

I opened her door and stepped back.

“I can’t believe you’re making me come here,” she grumbled.

I grinned. “We didn’t get to eat your lunch, and I’m starving, Raleigh. Plus, my parents asked me to stop by to pick something up,” I lied.

She gave me a calculating look, then waved her casted hand in my direction.

“I’m also mad at you,” she grumbled. “This is all your fault.”

My brows rose as I slammed the truck door closed just a little bit harder than I should have.

“What are you talking about?” I accused.

I put one hand on her back and guided her up the front walk of my parents’ house, hearing the commotion of little feet running inside.

Moira’s high-pitched ‘Daddy, higher’ had me grinning despite the accusations coming from Raleigh’s mouth.

“Then, let me get this straight,” I said after she finished. “You’re blaming me for you falling out of the tree because I yelled?”

She nodded.

“And why the hell were you up there in the first place?” I questioned, seemingly for the eighth time. “I told you I was going to go up there.”