Naughty Boys

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I wasn’t paying attention where I was going and the rat… Just like that. It won’t happen again. It’s not like I’m planning to go near a pond anytime soon.”

Jamie handed me a towel. Apparently, he stowed a duffel bag of clean clothes in his truck. “You think I was angry because you fell into a pond?”

“Yes. Why else?”

“I’m annoyed because you treated me like a child.”

“Sorry, it was just kind of a reflex—”

“Look at me, Simone. I’m a foot taller than you. I’m bigger and I’m stronger. I’m not the little kid you remember.”

“I get it. You’re a big man now.”

Jamie looked frustrated. He stepped closer and practically pinned me between his truck and that solid, well-muscled body of his. “I’m not joking around. Notice me already. I’m a guy. A healthy, red-blooded guy who’s attracted to a grown woman.”

I blinked. What the hell does he mean by that?

He lowered his head. I thought he was going to kiss my cheek. Instead, he kissed my neck. I jumped instantaneously, trying to push him off, but he wouldn’t budge. In that split second, I was panicking, and I noticed he was aroused.

Well, how could I not notice since his groin was pressing against mine? And what made it worse was that my body responded to his kiss like a sexually deprived succubus. I was feeling hot despite being drenched to my skin with the muddy water. My heartbeat went wild. My pulse raced, and my face burned hot.

James Lauren Cody was trouble.

Trouble with the capital T.

Chapter Three

Since that revelation, working in the Codys’ house was filled with drama. I noticed Jamie’s flirtation. And he flirted a lot. From casually bumping my hand when we dined together to blatantly seducing me disguised as showing me how to julienne vegetables to his liking. I knew how to cut a bell pepper. I’d been doing it since grade school.

Jamie scooped himself behind me, placing his hand on mine and the other on the knife, guiding me to make neat, small cuts. He talked close to my ear with a low, whispering purr that made my pulse run faster than a rabbit on a greyhound track.

I liked my employment and the safe haven they provided, and I pretended I was oblivious to his advances. And the more I played dumb, the more frustrated Jamie seemed become. I hoped he’d eventually give up and chase another skirt.

He proved me wrong.

Jamie wasn’t only invading my personal space in real life, he also haunted my dreams. For a while, I dismissed this problem in a Freudian way, thinking that I was sexually repressed and these carnal desires were in my subconscious and when someone expressed interest in me, it acted as a catalyst that manifested it into dreams.

To be honest, I didn’t mind.

Whatever happened in my dreams, stayed in my dreams.

But when one morning I abruptly woke because I dreamed I ended up with Jamie, Luke, and Nate in the same bed doing things that would make every god and saint from every religion shake their heads in shame, I knew I had a problem.

This was not good.

Before the divorce, I could go to my therapist and vent to my heart’s content. I didn’t have real friends, but a therapist would hear all my stupid problems as long as I could pay for her expensive appointment. But now I didn’t have health insurance; Sam had cut me off, so the only thing left to do was to ignore it.

What was the worst thing that could happen when I’d already hit rock bottom anyway?

Well, I started to sink under the rock.

In the past week, my orderly new life unraveled little by little into chaos. Besides warding off the stemming attention from Jamie, everything around me seemed to be broken. The air conditioner in my room randomly stopped working. At times, it became so hot at night, I had to seek refuge in the living room or kitchen. Which meant I had to play nice with whoever was in the house at the time, be that Luke, Nate, or Jamie, and I couldn’t relax as if I were in my own room. One night, I fell asleep on the sofa and woke past midnight to find Luke curled up next to me, spooning, semi-snoring.

The shower in my bathroom made strange noises for days before it belched and dried up completely. I didn’t want to use other bathrooms in the house to shower, so I had to ask Jamie to fix it. After all, he was the handyman.