Providence Series Books 5-7 Page 24

  “I think almost every woman in the world has watched that,” Sonya answered. “It’s like a rite of passage once you hit puberty.”

  Nodding, Todd took a slug of beer. He wasn’t on duty today, and the guy deserved to let his hair down a bit. They worked hard providing security for us all – even I could admit that we weren’t an easy family to babysit and keep safe.

  “What about you guys?”

  “Fuck you, man,” Ren seethed as he leaned forward in his chair to blast Todd with the full force of his glare. “No one warned us.”

  “Yeah,” Cole agreed, nodding his head and slamming his bottle down on the table making Crystal giggle. “It should have a warning on it.”

  Then the ball dropped - or maybe not in their case if what I was starting to think had happened, had in fact actually happened.

  “Can someone just tell me what the hell happened?” Ebru snapped, the hand that wasn’t holding Louis flying up into the air with exasperation.

  “Nothing really,” Todd shrugged.

  Tony had been very quiet during all of this, but he burst out laughing and shoved his fist in his mouth, biting down hard on it. Like that would stop him!

  “Tony,” Maya pressed. He’d been her best friend for years before he became part of our family when he moved here to work for her. He was literally another brother to me now.

  A thunk drew our attention to Cole who had his forehead on the table, his head moving slightly back and forth on the hard wood.

  “Tony,” Maya growled again. This time, he removed his fist so that he could get some air in his lungs because he’d been laughing that hard around it. How the hell does anyone laugh with their fist wedged in their maw?

  Todd sat back with a shit eating grin on his face and let it all out seeing as how Tony was still gasping.

  “I had to drop off some shit to Cole today,” he watched as Cole started to bang his head instead of just rubbing it. Dude was gonna end up with some wicked splinters if he didn’t quit. “When I walked in, these guys were watching the movie.” He gestured to my brothers and Tony.

  Unable to hold back, Tony jumped in. “They hadn’t seen it and said only a pussy would cry when Shelby died and M’Lynn had her breakdown at the funeral.” Admittedly, that scene had made me sob like a baby, but I couldn’t imagine Cole or Ren doing that. “We got as far as them switching the life support off,” he gulped as he shoulders shook harder. I wasn’t sure if he was laughing or crying at the scene. I got my answer immediately. “And all of a sudden, this wail comes out of this one,” Tony pointed at Ren, “and that one starts bawling his heart out.” This last bit was aimed at Cole.

  Everyone was staring at my brothers in shock. Cole – maybe. Ren? Fuck no!

  “When I came in,” Todd added, laughing his ass off, “they were begging Tony to ‘turn the bad movie off’.”

  The last bit snapped us all out of our shock as we burst out laughing at the mental image. As impossible as it was to imagine, it was fucking hilarious - I really wish I’d seen it. It was made better by Tony acting it out with hysterical wails.

  “Fuck. You!” Ren spat. “Have you seen that shit? Have you? The chick’s mom goes and gets this little kid who had been sitting dressed up for Halloween next to his unconscious mother.” He took a big gulp and I swear to Christ I thought he was gonna start crying again.

  “It’s a bad movie,” Cole whimpered. “A really bad, bad movie. There’s no coming back from it. You’ll carry the pain for the rest of your life. That poor little kid…and then the mom…”

  Todd started to lift up plates and bottles, making a show of looking under them for something. Then he picked up a packet of M&M’s that were near him, opened it and took two out in the palm of his hand.

  “Ah, here you go, man,” he offered the two chocolate spheres to Cole. “I found your balls.”

  “Hey, fuck you! He’s three times the man your date in Vegas turned out to be,” I snapped, immediately jumping to my brother’s defence and not realizing until the vein in his forehead started to bulge what exactly I’d said in front of everyone.

  Todd had an unfortunate encounter during a recent trip to Vegas to see a friend of my brother’s. He’d picked up the ‘hottest chick I’d ever seen in my life’ he said, taken her back to his hotel room, and had planned on giving her the most epic experience of her life. All of these had been his words verbatim when he’d told me while he was drunk one night. When she’d undressed, she’d reached between her legs and had flipped the tables back on him, making it the most epic experience of his life instead.

  To each their own and more power to ya, but a surprise like that could change a man, or a woman depending on how it went down – or up in this case.

  Apparently, he’d managed to explain that he hadn’t known and didn’t want to offend her, but he couldn’t go ahead with what they’d been aiming for. She’d taken it well and had left with them on great terms, but he would never forget it.

  I chose to think that she’d had a bigger dick than him and he’d gotten stage fright because of it. Regardless though, he hadn’t wanted that dirty little secret to ever be revealed to my family. We tended to hold onto shit like that and never let people forget it.

  And I’d just let it all out – something which he was really pissed off about and was proven by the clenching of his fists and flaring of his nostrils alone. The look of murder in his eyes just proved that I was about to eat shit.

  Slowly standing up like I didn’t have a care in the world, I prepared myself for what was about to happen.

  See, I had a very healthy respect for my life, so I did then what any man in my shoes would do.

  I threw a handful of mashed potatoes in his face and ran like a little bitch.

  Sonya

  I’m not sure who would have won the war between Todd and Tom had Cole and Ren not jumped in and dished out justice when Todd yelled, “At least you’d find my balls in my pants!” As soon as he had, they were up and shoving food in his face.

  I’d have expected guys like that to use their fists like dick strutting men did, but apparently this war was fought by a different cock – chicken. And all of the fixings that came with it.

  There were green beans being shoved up noses, fistfuls of mashed potatoes in the mouth, gravy…it was one big mess. The kids loved it though and were clapping their hands and chortling out their support to their daddies.

  The bizarre ending was when Cole rubbed a mixture of baked beans and mashed potatoes into Todd’s hair and he’d yelled that Cole had gone too far as he’d snorted the green beans out of his nose. It was disgusting yet amusing and an eye opener. It was also a waste of really good chicken and food, but at least they hadn’t used the desserts. They’d been headed for that table, but all of us had crowded in front of it to protect the sweet treasures from battle.

  Once they’d torn apart from each other and had left to change, I’d gone to clean up the mess, but the animals had beaten me to it – Dante included. I had to admit, watching a turkey gobble up chicken was kind of sick, but it was the only food item that the bird was interested in. How fucked up was that? Were poultry normally cannibals?

  I was just beginning to relax and enjoy my beer when the question was raised again.

  “So, do you want kids?” Maya asked, free of her daughter who was now riding on the back of a Dalmatian and squealing.

  “Uh, I don’t know?”

  All the eyes of the occupants of the table narrowed on me - including the older Townsends - so I sank down in my seat as far as I could.

  “How do you not know?” this came from Hurst who was now standing with his hands on his hips.

  Shrugging, I turned to Layla, begging her with my eyes to help me. She shook her head doing her best not to grin, and then said to her family, “Well, isn’t that awful. Who doesn’t know if they want kids?”

  I was going to kill her. Slowly, very, very slowly. And painfully!

  Just then, a bottle of Tequila wa
s passed to me. Following the arm attached to the generous hand with my eyes, I looked up until I realized that it was Tom passing me the bottle. He also had a big shit eating grin on his face as he used his free hand to loudly scrape the stubble on his jaw making Maya’s eyes widen as she put two and two together as to why my face had been so flushed earlier.

  Snatching the bottle, I opened it and took a big gulp. Then, took another, and another…

  Chapter 4

  Sonya

  T he sweet sound of birds tweeting a morning song gently woke me out of the sleep coma that I’d been in. Growing up in the city, I was used to waking up to the sounds of traffic and screaming neighbors, so I snuggled down to enjoy it a bit more. Normally, it would annoy me to be woken up at all, but for some reason I was actually feeling in a good mood this morning, if a bit hungover.

  There was something about the Townsend’s ranch that made everything different – including mornings. It was gorgeous - sprawling over acres of land and bringing to mind all of the cowboy romances I’d ever read. It would be perfect for some of the shifter ones that I’d read before I came here too - or Gone With The Wind. I just loved being here.

  Keeping my eyes tightly shut as I burrowed deeper into the bed, I focused back on the birds and smiled. Life out here really was perf…my thoughts were rudely cut short by the bed shifting, giving me my first clue that something was different, as in - really different. The low growl that accompanied it made me grin for a second as I decided that I was still sleeping and had brought a werewolf shifter into my dreams.

  The second growl, followed closely by the word “shit” being hissed, had my eyes snapping open. Me and Layla were close, but I had my own room at her house while were staying here - and she definitely didn’t sound as masculine as that.

  Taking in the furniture and the room itself, I gripped the bedding ready to jump out and run screaming from wherever I was, until I recognized a pair of boots scattered across the floor and the t-shirt lying beside them. I quickly tried to remember what had happened last night, but mornings really weren’t the best time of day for me, and my blood type was caffeine which at that moment I didn’t have any of in my system. I did, however, have alcohol, and that wasn’t conducive with anyone’s memory at any point.

  At least I recognized the clothes, so I couldn’t be locked away in a room with someone waiting to saw me into pieces or torture me until they could make my skin into an outfit. Right?

  Just as I was calming enough to make a more dignified exit from the bed, the sound of a drawer opening followed by stomping made me turn my head just as the bane of my life, Tom Townsend, slammed open his window and leaned out of it.

  What the fuck had I done last night?

  I almost swallowed my tongue when his bare ass filled my vision, but it was beaten by the face full of all things Tom’s balls and cock - from behind - that I got as he leaned out and screamed, “Shut the fuck up!” Before shooting off a few rounds into the sky.

  My screams joined the birds as I shot out of the bed and legged it down the stairs. Thankfully, I was smart and stopped to grab the sweater hanging on the banister, pulling it on as I threw open the door.

  It wasn’t the human being standing there with a shit eating grin on his face that stopped my escape. Not at a Townsend house, oh no. It was the Dalmatian, big red dog, tiny pig, freaking turkey, some type of dog sized horse, a cross between a rat and a dog and the dog on wheels that stopped me. Watching them walk into Tom’s house in a uniformed line, I shook myself out of my stupor and went to take my next step, promptly tripping over my cat who was bringing up the rear of the animal conga line. This shot me right into the Townsend patriarch himself - Grandpa Hurst.

  “Hmmm,” he hummed as he took in my no doubt disheveled state. “Make-up down face, Tom’s top,” he noted, then his eyes stopped on my hair. He reached up and plucked something out, then brought his hand back down between us. “Turkey feather in the hair.”

  Fuck. My. Life

  I didn’t hang around for any more conversation. I put my hand on my ass, that was only just covered by the stolen sweater to stop it flying up when I ran, and legged it back to Layla’s – praying that I didn’t come across any more Townsends on my way.

  Life, as we all know, is unfair though and every last one of them seemed to be out and about at the crack of dawn to see my escape of shame, and hopefully not my crack. Some laughed, some stood open mouthed, some even waved. My hands were too busy holding both the front and back of my t-shirt down after I’d unfortunately discovered that the front flew up when you ran for your life too. This discovery had been made when I’d flashed a random squirrel who had made a startled shrieking noise and scarpered. Poor little guy was probably scarred for life, being flashed as he played with his nuts.

  After what seemed like a hundred miles, I ran through Layla’s door and up to my room where I dove on my bed and hid under the covers.

  It took a good ten-minutes for my breathing to return to normal because I was a F.O.R.D. – Fucker Only Ran Downhill – so exercise wasn’t my strong point. Who wanted to be all sweaty and gross, when they could just be not sweaty and gross? I walked, wasn’t that enough?

  Once my heart felt like it had returned to a normal rhythm and I wasn’t breathing and panting like an escaped convict, I thought over last night.

  I remembered the bottle of Tequila. I remembered changing the subject of conversation a lot. Damn those Townsends were determined people. I remembered someone making margaritas and drinking them out of baby bottles. I don’t remember why, but I remember being very comfortable lying out on the couch and the baby bottles playing a role in my consumption of alcohol. I remember seeing who could drink shots out of the bottles the fastest. And now that I was actually thinking and not using every part of my body to refill my lungs with the oxygen that I’d run out of because of my morning marathon length run - I could feel sore parts on my body that I hadn’t felt in years. It wasn’t as sore as when I lost my virginity to my high school boyfriend, Gary Ficker - the cherry picker. I found out too late that he had picked the cherries of quite a few of the girls and was a complete asshole. This was more of a pleasant ache.

  The sound of hammering at my bedroom door forced a squeak out of me as I hunched down deeper under the covers on my bed.

  “You certainly can’t run for shit,” Layla yelled through the door. “And you can’t hide. Gramps has called a family meeting for the ladies in an hour downstairs. Up and at em, you lush!”

  Groaning, I weighed up whether or not I could escape from here and take my chances against whomever had it in for the Townsends. Then I figured it was unlikely, so I started to weigh up whether or not I’d actually be able to barricade myself in here with something that would keep the Townsends out. Again, unlikely. So, I decided to sulk for a bit, dreading what was going to be said during the “family meeting”, before hauling my ass into the shower where my hangover decided to make itself known.

  I need caffeine, badly!

  “So, to stop pregnancies, because you all breed like rabbits and I’m starting to fear for the safety of the world,” Gramps’ eyes landed on me and Layla as he pointed to the condoms on the table in front of him. “And you two need to pay more attention than the ones who’ve already reproduced,” he added, before picking up a squash and trying to pull the condom down it - again. “See, you put the thingy on the top, and…” the condom went flying and hit the side of Coleman’s head. Not one person laughed when it slid down slightly before coming to a stop on the top of his ear, the unrolled part still attached to his hair. I’m pretty sure that I heard even Gramps gulp.

  Reaching up slowly, he plucked the rubber from his head, and then pinched the bridge of his nose with his non-condomed hand.

  “I thought that we were going to have a self-defense lesson,” Layla whispered across me to Ebru, Cole’s wife, who was sitting on the other side of me.

  “I thought we were gonna go shooting or something,” she whispere
d back. Given the situation that the family were in, they had a good point.

  “Have you ever seen a Die Hard or a horror movie where they won because they used a condom?” Layla snorted, then stopped. “You know the cliché scenes where the big boobed chick is running in just her underwear, it’s dark, the music has changed, and she’s just out there running away from the dude with the knife?” We all nodded because whether you watched the movies or not, you knew about those scenes. “Well, imagine me running in my bra and panties, dude with a knife right there. Then turning around with a rubber in my hand and suffocating him.”

  “Maybe we should have this talk with the men again?” Gramps asked Coleman. “I don’t think that this is working.”

  Nodding, still not saying a word, Coleman started to walk toward the door, leaving Gramps with the vegetables and rubbers.

  Sighing with relief, I went to stand up to go and hide back in my bedroom, but Layla grabbing my hand stopped me.

  “Oh no. If he’s giving Tom an education on safe sex, we can’t leave,” she chuckled. “We could hear the giggling coming from his room while we were sitting downstairs last time.”

  Layla’s grandad burst out laughing so hard, that the zucchini in his hand snapped in half and went flying across the table. Huh, why hadn’t he used that one for the condom demonstration?

  “I couldn’t help it,” he got out in between snorts - not caring for the other half of the poor penis vegetable still in his hand, as he smacked it repeatedly on the table. “You should have seen his face! We only had a squash to practice on and he kept looking down at his crotch and back up at it.”

  Why did they always go with the squash?

  “When was this?” I felt my feelings growing for the little boy who didn’t understand that his penis would never look like that or be that b...

  “Ohhh, about three years ago!”

  No, my mistake. Tom Townsend really had gotten into the gene pool while the lifeguard wasn’t watching.

  Close call.