 
The Neighbor from Hell Series Sampler

by

R.L. Mathewson

A Smashword's Edition
**Other titles by R.L. Mathewson** :

The Pyte/Sentinel Series:

Tall, Dark & Lonely

Without Regret

Tall, Dark & Heartless

Tall, Silent & Lethal

The Hollywood Hearts Series:

A Humble Heart

A Reclusive Heart

The Neighbor from Hell Series:

Playing for Keeps

Perfection

Checkmate

Truce: The Historic Neighbor from Hell

The Game Plan

The Neighbor from Hell Collection I

Double Dare

Double Feature: The Game Plan/Double Dare

Honeymoon From Hell, I-VI

The EMS Series:

Sudden Response

The Cursed Hearts Series:

Black Heart

Misc. Titles:

The 2014 Chronicle Collection

Nonfiction Titles:

How to Write, Publish and All That Good Stuff...
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events described in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

Edited by R.L. Mathewson

Cover designed by Rochelle McGrath

Neighbor from Hell Sampler I © Rerum Industries, Inc. 2015 All Rights Reserved.

e-book ISBN:

This book like every book that I have ever written or will ever write is dedicated to my children, Kayley and Shane, who have been with me on this journey from day one.

Thank you for purchasing this book.

Sign up for my newsletter and receive the latest news about the Neighbor from Hell Series as well as my other series at:

www.Rlmathewson.com

Table of Contents:

Title Page

Playing for Keeps

Perfection

Checkmate

Truce

The Game Plan

Double Dare

About the Author

The book that started it all for this series:

Playing for Keeps

by

R.L. Mathewson
Playing for Keeps Synopsis:

Done with being the world's biggest pushover, Haley decides that things are going to start changing. The first thing that she was going to do was to put a stop to all the crap that her aggravating neighbor put her through. What she hadn't expected was to be sucked into his world, but Haley has a game plan and she won't let herself forget what the bad boy next door is capable of. The last thing that Jason expected was for his shy little neighbor to go Rambo on him over some ruined flowers, but he quickly got over it once he realized exactly what he'd been missing. After he decides to take her under his wing, he can't help but notice how nicely she fits in his life. Now the only thing left to do was to convince her that this is anything but a game.

Playing for Keeps Excerpt:

"I had a really nice time," Jonathan said, probably for the tenth time.

Haley forced herself to smile and of course lie. "I did, too," she said, hoping he wouldn't ask her to elaborate on what she'd found nice, because she would be hard pressed to find something nice about this evening, except of course that it was nice that it was ending.

This was absolutely the very last time she went on a date with any man Mary, one of her oldest and dearest friends, suggested. One would think after Mary set her up with the taxidermist, who cross-dressed, she would have learned her lesson. She apparently hadn't because somehow she'd agreed to go out with this loser.

It hadn't started off badly. In fact, he'd been on time and she'd thought he was rather cute in a nerdish way. He was tall, a bit thin, but still, he looked nice. His clothes were clean and he smelled good. The first clue that something just wasn't right occurred when they'd arrived at the restaurant.

That's when his mother called for the first time. Yes, the first time, as in there was more than one call from his mother. In fact, during their four-hour date, it lasted that long because he took so long to eat, she'd called a total of twenty-three times. Yes, she was very sure it was his mother, because he'd sat at the table when he took the calls and the speaker on his phone was rather loud.

The reasons for the calls ranged from, she missed him, wanted to know if he'd rather come home and eat what she cooked, reminded him to clean his room tomorrow, and her personal favorite, she wanted to know if he was still with "her." Judging by her tone and the amount of calls, his mommy was not a happy camper about her little boy dating.

Granted, her little boy was thirty-five years old and according to him had never lived on his own. Why would he when he lived with his best friend? Meaning, mommy dearest. Of course, he did spend a good amount of time complaining about how unfair his mother could be. Who knew that a thirty-five year old man could still be grounded for not picking up his dirty socks? She certainly hadn't.

She could not wait to get inside her house and change into a pair of jeans and a tee shirt and have a good laugh about this with Jason. That was of course, only if Jason had forgiven her for her little jest earlier. Hence the large piece of chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting in the doggy container she was currently holding. Jason was a big baby, but a big baby that could be bought with food.

"Well, here we are," she said brightly as they pulled into her driveway. "It's been fun. Thank you again," she said quickly as she practically ran from the car.

"This is a really nice house," he said, from somewhere close, too close. Haley looked back and bit back the curse that threatened to leave her lips. The man was following her to the door. She wanted to cry, really, she did. When would this nightmare end?

She walked up to her door and plastered another fake smile on her face. "Well, thanks again."

"You're welcome." He gave her a shy smile before he leaned in to kiss her. Thankfully she saw that one coming and turned her head in time to receive a rather wet kiss on her cheek. Ew....

She barely stopped herself from wiping her face. She'd scrub that off in a matter of minutes in a scalding hot shower, she promised herself with a grimace.

"Oops. Sorry," he mumbled as he leaned in to give her another kiss.

Faster than even she thought was possible, she had the front door unlocked and opened. She stumbled back, saving herself from more slobber.

"Well, it's been nice, but-"

"Can I come in for a cup of coffee?" he asked eagerly and then of course had to add, "I can stay out as late as I want tonight." Oh, she knew he was lying. Someone was going to be in so much trouble when he got home. She mentally tsked him.

She opened her mouth to politely refuse when the yelling began.

"Help me!"

Haley jumped. What the hell? It sounded like Jason was right in her house.

"Help me, please! Somebody please help me! Why won't somebody help me?"

"What's that?" Jonathan asked nervously.

Haley didn't stop to answer. She was already running towards the direction of the screaming. Her room? She threw the door open and stumbled as she came to a halt five feet into the room, which put her directly in front of her bed.

"What the hell...." Jonathan stopped behind her.

"Oh, thank God you're here, Haley!" Jason said, sounding happy for someone who was tied to her bed and wearing only a pair of boxers. "I know you said it turns you on knowing that I'm tied to your bed waiting for you, but I really need to use the bathroom and stretch my legs before we begin....," his voice trailed off when he caught sight of Jonathan.

Jason sighed dramatically. "I thought we agreed that you would tell me ahead of time before you added someone to our bed." With a roll of his eyes he said, "It's fine this time. Lucky for you I think we have plenty of lube." He looked thoughtfully at Jonathan, who was still staring at Jason dumbly. "I hope you're not a screamer. The last guy screamed his head off every time I-"

"You're sick!" Jonathan cried, cutting Jason off. "Stay away from me and don't try to call me either! I'm telling my mother about you!"

Haley didn't spare Jonathan a glance as she glared at the man with the huge shit-eating grin tied to her bed. She was vaguely aware of her front door slamming shut and the sound of tires peeling out of her driveway.

"Is that for me?" Jason asked, looking pointedly at the Styrofoam container in her hands.

"Mmmhmm," she said as she walked around the bed and placed the container on his chest and opened it. She didn't miss his eyes widening in pleasure.

"Is that-"

"Peanut butter frosting, yup," she finished for him.

He licked his lips as he stared at the huge dessert. "You are the best, ever. Untie me so I can dig in," he said absently as he continued to stare at the cake, probably trying to decide which end he was going to attack first.

"You can't get free?"

"Nope."

"You did this yourself?"

"Yup. Now cake, woman."

"Uh huh....." She stepped away from the bed and headed for the bathroom.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"I'm just getting something to untie you with."

"Hurry."

"Sure thing," she said, glad he couldn't see her shit-eating grin.
Playing for Keeps

**Chapter 1**

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no!" Haley murmured in disbelief as she watched her pink, white, and yellow tulips yanked viciously out of the ground. She shoved her chair away from her computer desk and stormed towards the front door. She was going to kill him this time, there was no doubt about it.

After five long years of juvenile nonsense he'd finally gone too far. Her college roommate hadn't been able to aggravate her this much, even when she'd gone through her six-month period of not showering or using deodorant in an attempt to "save the planet."

Five years ago she'd been proud to buy her first house at the ripe old age of twenty-four. She'd worked her butt off to buy her dream home, a one level two-bedroom ranch home. The experience of owning her own home was better than anything that she could have ever imagined.

She spent hundreds of hours picking out the perfect color scheme for each room, cleaning, organizing, and hitting every yard sale within a thirty-mile radius, trying to turn wood and plaster into a real home. None of that could even begin to compare to the hours she'd spent working on her lawn and garden. With countless blisters, cuts, bee stings and backaches she'd turned her dull yard into a paradise.

Her enjoyment had lasted for all of four months. That's when he'd moved into the house next door. At first she'd been excited to have a new neighbor, one that wasn't elderly and cranky. All of her enjoyment as a new homeowner ended the moment she'd met Jason Bradford.

Within the first ten minutes of his arrival he'd backed into her mailbox, spilled fast food wrappers from his car onto his property, which had quickly made their way onto her immaculate lawn, and relieved himself on the great old oak tree in his front lawn with a sheepish smile and a shrug in her horrified direction.

The man was a barbarian.

Over the next five years he'd turned her picturesque life into a nightmare. She wasn't sure how one person managed to take so much control over her happiness, but he had. Over the years she'd dealt with paintball pellets decorating the laundry hanging outside as well as splattering the side of her house. She'd also endured loud music, parties, twice she'd found naked people trying to climb over the fence to skinny dip in her pool, three a.m. drunken basketball games, women throwing hissy fits on his front lawn and sometimes on hers when the jerk had refused to come out and deal with them.

What made matters worse was the fact that they both worked at the same private high school, in the same department, with adjoining classrooms, and adjacent parking spots. It hadn't taken long for him to turn her dream job and house into a nightmare. At work she had to deal with him constantly "borrowing" things from her room like paper, pens, books, and even her desk once.

He seemed to think that he was the most charming man on earth and had no problem using his charm and good looks to get his way, leaving her with extra work and responsibilities while he got to be the laid back teacher. It hadn't taken her long to realize that she would have to suck it up at work. There was no way at her age that she was going to be able to land a better job. She'd been lucky to land this one. So the only option left for her was to move.

After the first year, she'd tried to sell her house, unsuccessfully. Every time a prospective buyer came around, he scared them off by just being Jason. She gave up the idea of selling her house for the next two years only to put it up again last year when he took up golf and shot out three of her windows. He'd managed to scare off fifteen prospective buyers by walking out to get the mail in his boxers, a particularly memorable fit of rage when he threw his computer out the window accompanied with a loud roar, and of course there was the upkeep, or rather lack thereof, of his property.

His lawn was covered in crabgrass and weeds. He only paid the neighborhood kid to mow it once a month. The rest of the time it was the chosen habitat of little woodland creatures. The house needed a serious paint job, or at the very least, a cleanup of all paint chips that had fallen to the ground over the years. If he didn't personally scare someone off, his house did the job. She gave up the dream of moving away five months ago and settled for praying that he would move soon, very soon.

Now he was going after her babies. This was not happening. Enough was enough. Over the last five years she'd bitten her tongue, too afraid to complain. She'd always been like that, even as a little kid.

She'd always been quiet and shy with her nose buried in a book, hoping that no one would notice her. It wasn't so much that she wasn't a very social person, she was. It had more to do with the fact that she was a huge chicken. When the other kids had picked on her or pushed her around she used to cower, unable to deal with confrontation. That nasty habit had followed her into adulthood.

It was made even worse with good-looking men like Jason. His ebony hair, ocean blue eyes and chiseled good looks made her nervous. She just wasn't any good at handling people. Throw good looks onto a guy that was being particularly jerkish and she promptly turned into a blubbering idiot. Pushy people just sucked and it really sucked that she never learned how to deal with them.

When she'd caught her roommate, Angel, stealing her papers, food, and money what did she do? She avoided her room until well after two in the morning when she knew Angel would be asleep and then hurried the hell out of there before she woke up in the morning.

The same could be said of the few boyfriends she'd managed to have over the years that had taken advantage of her. Instead of throwing them to the curb like she should have done she'd pulled back into herself, knowing that they would get bored eventually and move on. Yes, she was a chicken. That was the only reason why Jason Bradford had gotten away with his behavior for the past five years, but no more. The flowers were the last straw. Her grandmother had given her the bulbs from her own garden when Haley first bought the house and she loved them.

She spied the rolled up hose and made a snap decision. This ended here and now. The days of being the world's biggest pushover were over.

*-*-*-*

"What the hell!"

Jason jumped to his feet as a torrent of ice cold water hit him.

He didn't know what he'd expected to see when he turned around, but it certainly wasn't his timid little neighbor and co-worker aiming her very long hose at him. Clearly she'd lost her damned mind.

"Step away from my tulips," she ordered in a hard tone of authority that surprised him.

He really couldn't help grinning at her. She looked so damn cute standing there with her long bronze hair pulled back into a twisted pony tail, green eyes full of fire hidden behind large glasses making her look adorable, and of course her rather tight black tee shirt with the word "Nerd" written across her very decent size chest made her look hot. His eyes dropped to the cute little shorts that revealed short, but very nice, shapely, tanned legs, very nice indeed.

Of course he already knew that his quiet little neighbor was stunning. It was the first thing he'd noticed about her the day he'd moved in. The second was that she was a very shy, very nervous, and easily frightened female. He still winced when he thought back to that day. After five hours on the road and three Big Gulps he'd been in desperate need of a bathroom. Unfortunately the realtor hadn't left the keys where she'd said she would and he had to make a split second decision, piss his pants or water the tree. In the end, the tree got a healthy amount of recycled cola.

She hadn't even given him a chance to explain or apologize. Her face had turned bright red before she practically ran into her house. From then on she'd avoided him at all costs. If he'd waved or said hello to her, she would mutter something or just flat out ignore him. If he, or one of his asshole buddies, broke something on her property she didn't say a word. If he'd been a jerk he could have easily gotten away with not paying for all those broken windows or paintball streaked sheets, but he wasn't that big of a prick. He learned that she would never speak up for herself so as soon as the shit hit the fan he made a call and replaced whatever he'd fucked up. It would just make him feel like an even bigger asshole to take advantage of the situation.

It always bothered him that she never spoke up for herself. He couldn't remember someone disliking him so fast and intensely before in his life. No matter what he did she couldn't be bothered to speak to him. Hell, he would have kicked his ass years ago, or at the very least called the cops on him like the other neighbors had or filed a complaint with the principal like so many of his other co-workers seemed to enjoy doing. Hell, she'd never even signed any of those petitions that the rest of the neighborhood liked to give him every few months, demanding that he move. He'd checked each and every time.

It wasn't like he was purposely being an asshole. It just came naturally to him. Everyone understood and accepted it. Probably because even though he was an asshole, he was a likeable asshole.....most of the time.

As happy as he was that she'd finally come off her throne to talk to him, he was also pissed that he was soaking wet in his favorite shirt and khaki shorts in seventy-degree weather. Apparently he hadn't moved fast enough because she sprayed him again.

"Are you fucking insane?" he demanded.

She gestured with the hose for him to take a step back. "Get away from my flower bed.....Now."

"Your flowerbed?" he asked with a snort.

"Yes, my flowerbed!" Another short spray. "I planted these flowers five years ago, before you moved in!"

Frustrated, Jason ran his fingers through his messy hair. "Then you should have checked the fucking property lines before you wasted your time!" he snapped.

Her eyes narrowed on him. "The flowerbed is my property!"

"I don't think so, sweetheart. Go check your deed if you don't believe me. This flowerbed is one hundred percent on my property," he said harshly. He pointed to the two feet of space that separated their houses where the flower bed continued until it came to the large wooden picket fence that started at the corner of her house and continued to the back, separating their backyards. "You have five inches out from the wall of your house. Your property ends two inches before my flower bed! That's why the stupid, little, white picket fence starts against your house instead of on the other side of the flowerbed."

He watched as she glared at the small space that separated their houses. Whoever had built them had been a real prick. Both of their master bedrooms were built less than two feet apart. Yet, there was more than thirty feet of space between each house and the other neighboring houses. There was no privacy with the way the identical houses had been built. He'd had no choice but to place his large bed directly in front of the window and from what he could see neither had she. Taking the smaller bedroom had been out of the question. His bed would never have fit inside it.

It felt odd sleeping less than two feet away from a woman who thought him less than dirt. During the summer they both refused to open their windows until the heat became oppressive, leaving them with no other choice. Forget about bringing a woman to his bedroom. He'd never been one for PDA's never mind having sex in public and having sex in his room would definitely feel like a public performance.

No matter how many times he'd tried to remind himself that they were in separate houses and separated by more than just a stupid little flower garden he couldn't bring himself to allow a woman in his bed. Not that he normally did that. He'd never invited a woman to his home. That was one of his top ten rules of dating. The only time they ever came to his house was to bitch him out when he moved on and that was done from the outside.

He'd never in his entire adult life shared a bed with a woman. That was too much intimacy and sent the wrong message. The few times he'd made the mistake of relaxing in a woman's bed after a quick lay proved to be serious mistakes. They wanted to cuddle and always asked the questions that made him cringe, "What are you thinking?", "Do you love me?", "Where do you see this going?", "Are you as happy as I am?", "Why do you keep calling me by my sister's name?", or his personal favorite, "I wonder what our babies will look like." No, sex was best kept at a woman's house, hotel room or better yet, in the backseat of a car.

Thank God his neighbor seemed to share the same attitude. He hated the idea of waking up to the sounds of another man grunting and moaning. With his luck the sounds would filter into his dream and he would end up having a dream about some guy groaning and moaning in his dream. Thankfully that had never happened otherwise he'd be sleeping on his couch.

It wasn't as though his beautiful neighbor was without male attention. He'd seen several losers sniffing around her in the last five years. She was easily out of their league, at least physically. Personality wise, well even from afar he could tell that they were all pricks. He wasn't a prince, not by any measure, but he found himself eager to deck a few of them over the years. They'd never hit her otherwise he would have killed the bastards. Sometimes he felt like they were just using her, or not treating her right. He didn't know why he cared, he just did.

Haley eyed the fence and then the remaining length of the flowerbed. She sighed heavily. "Fine. If I made a mistake I'm sorry, but I replaced the last flower bed with the tulips from my Grandmother's garden."

He nodded in relief, glad that it was settled. The damn flowers were out of here and not a moment too soon. He couldn't take another night like last night. Besides, he was running out of cornstarch.

"I'll just move the flowers over into my five inches of space."

His eyes widened with horror at that announcement. "The hell you will!"

Playing for Keeps:
**Chapter 2**

Haley's eyes widened in total disbelief as Jason threw himself back onto the plants, tearing them up like a mad man.

"Stop!"

He ignored her and continued to rip the tulips from the ground, making sure that those damn bulbs came with them. He tossed them as far as he could onto his property so that she couldn't get her hands on them to re-plant them.

She squeezed the nozzle, hitting him with a full blast of cold water. It didn't seem to faze him as he continued to tear up the flowerbed.

"Stop! Please stop!" she cried, but he wouldn't stop. He only slowed down when he reached the tight space between their houses.

Jason had to shift his shoulders so he could lodge himself into the tight space. Thankfully she gave up on squirting him. It might be April, but they were in New England and that meant a bright sun with a cold breeze. His body shivered violently as he reached forward to grab more handfuls of tulips when suddenly something clamped around his ankles.

"What the hell-oomph!" He was pulled off balance, landing face first into the thick mud she'd created with her little water meltdown. Before he could push himself up, she was crawling over his back to get to those damn flowers.

Haley used her small frame to her advantage. After quickly crawling over Jason she began digging up as many tulips with her hands as she could and setting them gently, yet quickly, against the side of her house.

"Hey! Stop that!" he demanded as he leaned over her to grab a hold of her hands.

"Get off me!" she snapped, digging faster.

"I wouldn't be on you if you weren't on my damn property!"

She threw back an elbow to dislodge him. He cursed under his breath as he pushed himself in further until her entire body was snuggled tightly beneath his. She instantly froze beneath him. He took advantage of her stunned reaction and grabbed as many flowers as he could, tearing them out of the ground and threw them blindly over his shoulder.

"I said get off me, not crush me!" she snapped. It was all she could do to control her breathing. She was going to hyperventilate and pass out. There was no doubt about it, because there was a large muscular man on top of her!

Her senses went into overload as she tried to focus. But all she could think about was how the feel of his strong, hard stomach felt pressed against her back. Suddenly a shiver shot through her body that had nothing to do with the cold water seeping through her clothes.

Then the realization sank in that a very large man was on top of her! "That better not be what I think it is," she hissed between clenched teeth.

"It's not." It was. "Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart," he snapped, trying not to groan or grind into her. He was a little shocked himself. Not that he ever had a problem getting it up. He didn't. Of course these days his interest in sex had waned a bit. Hell, he couldn't remember the last time he had sex, which in itself was pathetic.

He made a half-assed attempt to pull out more flowers. That seemed to distract her enough from her pert little ass being snuggled against his lap. His eyes closed as he nuzzled against her neck and slowly inhaled. She didn't seem to notice so he did it again. He would swear on his life that she smelled like blackberries and cream. It was damn enticing to a man like him.

She groaned in irritation. "I don't know what your problem is. I made a mistake planting them on your property and I'm sorry. Just let me move them over a few inches and everything will be settled."

That snapped him out of his daze. "No!" He reached past her and began ripping more flowers out. She swore under her breath as she crawled out from under him to save whatever flowers she could. He simply followed her, assuming the same position each time and frustrating the hell out of her.

"You're being a jerk! I just want my bulbs!" she said, trying to not to cry. These were her Grandmother's bulbs. Her Grandfather had bought them for her Grandmother after the war to celebrate the success of their first business.

"No, you're not going to plant them here! They can't stay!" he snapped, digging faster.

"Why?" she demanded, coming closer and closer to frustrated tears. "I don't understand you! You don't do anything with your property! Why do you care if there's a flowerbed here or a few inches over? They're not hurting you!"

"The hell they're not!" he snapped, thinking of all the spots on his back and neck that still throbbed.

She scoffed. "They're just flowers. What could they possibly do to aggravate you to this level?" She heard something buzzing past her ear and absently waved it off.

"Bees!" he said, trying to back up, but couldn't. His large frame was trapped between their houses.

"Yes, it's a bee," she said slowly as if she were talking to a child.

He groaned as he tried to twist his large frame loose. When that didn't work he tried to shove backwards. His arm snaked around her waist, trying to pull her along with him.

"Hey, get your hands-"

"It's a fucking nest and we just disturbed it!" he yelled, frantically trying to get them out of there.

Haley's eyes shot forward and then widened. Sure enough, two feet in front of her the start of what appeared to be a very large ground nest was now poking out of the ground thanks to the flowers they yanked up. Yellow jackets began swarming just above the nest. It wouldn't be long before they descended on them.

"Move!"

"I can't!"

Haley clenched her teeth as she slammed back as hard as she could against him. He groaned low in her ear, but didn't stop trying to move back. She moved forward and slammed back again, and again. Each time was met by a groan and a gain of a few more inches.

"One more time!" he grated.

She moved forward and this time when she slammed back into him she pushed up with her shoulders, dislodging him. Jason used the momentum to pull them both back several feet. He kept his arm snaked around her waist as he dragged her away from the nest.

"They're swarming!" Haley cried.

"Shit!" Jason looked frantically around for a safe place to hide.

"My house!" she yelled as the buzzing grew louder, gesturing wildly towards her front door.

"Good idea," he said as he ran towards the house, dragging her behind him. The buzzing became louder and louder as the swarm began circling them. Once they reached the front door he opened it, relieved that she'd left it unlocked, and they ran inside, slamming the door shut behind them.

"Bees!" Haley cried, gesturing to the bees that had followed them inside.

He quickly released her hand and grabbed two magazines from a small pile on a coffee table and threw one to her. Without a word, they rolled the magazines up and began to attack the dozen or so bees that had managed to follow them inside. Neither spoke until the last bee was squashed.

"Five nights....in....a....row.....stung...," Jason tried to explain while he struggled to catch his breath.

"You knew there were yellow jackets and you still tore up the flowers?" she asked in disbelief. Her grandmother had taught her well. A ground nest was not something to mess with. It could be as small as a stack of quarters or several feet long, but you wouldn't know until it was too late.

Jason gestured in the direction of his house. "I was trying to kill them."

She shook her head in disbelief. He knew there was a nest and he hadn't told her? He knew that she worked on her flowers most weekends.

"Why didn't you tell me there was a nest? You know that I work in that flowerbed," she said, working hard on keeping her tone even. They could have been killed!

"I did!"

"No, you didn't!"

He threw his hands up in exasperation. "I've been trying to tell you for the last few weeks, but whenever I approached you, you ran off!"

She opened her mouth to argue, but shut it just as quickly and winced. Yeah, that really did sound like something she would do where he was concerned.

"Oh," she finally said.

"Yeah, oh," he snapped. He peeked out the window and groaned. "They're still swarming."

Haley sighed. "They're going to be a problem for a few hours. We need to call an exterminator."

*-*-*-*

Man, he was freezing. He was soaked to the bone and it didn't look like he was going to be able to go to his house anytime soon to change. Normally, he'd strip down to his boxers, but his neighbor was already skittish around him. He didn't want to give the poor thing a stroke. He looked down at her very clean and obviously well cared for wood floor and cringed.

"Shit, maybe I should step out the backdoor and dry off," he said as he raised his eyes to look into her adjoining kitchen. His brows flew up as he watched the windows suddenly turn black.

"I don't think that will be happening for a while," Haley said softly as she rubbed her forehead. "Why don't you go take a shower and I'll see if I can find you something to wear. While you're taking your shower I'll call for an exterminator."

"If you're sure," he said, hoping that she wouldn't change her mind. He was freezing his balls off. Hell, at this point he'd squeeze his ass into a dress to get warm.

She nodded absently as she watched the bees swarm around her backyard through the gaps in the windows. "Yeah, let me show you where the bathroom is."

Ten minutes later the shivering had finally stopped and he was able to enjoy his shower. Never in his life had hot water felt so good. This was the best shower he'd ever had. It didn't hurt that his little shy neighbor shared his appreciation for the simple things in life like a normal bar of soap. She didn't have any of that overly perfumed expensive shit that never lathered properly and always left a rash on his skin. It also didn't hurt that the bathroom looked like a bathroom and wasn't covered from head to toe in lace and makeup. This was a bathroom a man could comfortably use without worrying about his masculinity.

He was just pulling on the tee shirt she'd left him when he heard her scream, "No! Don't do it!"

Jason was out of the bathroom in less than a second, running towards her and ready to kill whatever bastard was trying to hurt her. He came to a skidding stop in front of her.

She smiled sweetly as she said, "God, I love you."

His brows nearly shot through his hairline as his heart pounded. Shit, this was worse than he thought. She hadn't been avoiding him all these years because she was shy. No, she was head over heels in love with him. Shit. This was awkward, especially since he was stuck here until an exterminator came. Now he hoped it was soon.

Really soon.

He opened his mouth to say something that would make this situation less awkward only to find himself gestured impatiently out of the way with a dough covered wooden spoon. He stepped back, frowning, afraid of getting dough all over him, and wondering what was wrong with the woman professing her love for him one moment and the next, shooing him out of the way.

"Never come between me and the man I love," she said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Jason followed her gaze and chuckled. "Derek Jeter?"

She frowned as if questioning her love for the man was stupid. "Of course."

He couldn't help but grin. Damn. How had he missed this? She had a huge television. Bigger than his even and that was really saying something since his television was the one thing he'd really splurged on.

"That's a really big television for such a tiny woman," he said teasingly.

"Well, how else am I supposed to watch my games and feel like I'm there?" she countered back. "Plus, this way I get to see my future husband better."

"Does he know?" he asked, looking back at her.

She scrunched her face up adorably. "Not yet, but I can wait," she said with a smile that made her face go from utterly adorable and sweet to heartbreakingly beautiful in less than a second.

Damn.

He shifted his feet awkwardly for a moment while she watched the game with rapt attention.

"Are you a Red Sox fan?" she suddenly asked.

"Hell no!" he said, insulted by the question. He may live knee-deep in Red Sox territory, but that didn't mean that he was a betraying bastard. Yankees were his first love and they would be his last.

She sighed with obvious relief. "Thank God." She sent the game one last look of longing before returning to her kitchen counter where, he noted with a chuckle, she had a small flat screen television with the game playing. This woman really loved her Yankees, or at least one in particular.

What the hell was it with women and Derek Jeter?

He took a moment to glance around. The damn bees were still covering all of her windows, but his attention was elsewhere now. Her walls were covered in Yankees memorabilia. He wasn't too surprised when he spotted a signed photo of Derek Jeter hanging above the television in the living room.

"Looks like we're stuck inside until after dark," she said, pulling his attention back to the kitchen. "The exterminator said he has to wait for the nest to calm. That will happen when the sun goes down. He'll come spray the nest and remove it if he can."

He ran his fingers through his damp hair and sighed. "I guess you're stuck with me for a little while then."

She shrugged. "It's fine. There's a good game on so it should help pass the time."

"True," he agreed.

"I'm making homemade pizza. I hope you don't mind. I was planning on ordering pizza today for the game, but with the bees and all..." she trailed off, shrugging.

"No, that sounds great. I'm sorry that I'm intruding," he said, feeling like an ass. This woman had spent the last five years avoiding him and now he was being forced on her by Mother Nature.

"Not a problem," she said and he got the feeling that she was lying.

She'd never liked to be around him before. Whenever he stood too close to her at work or went to sit next to her, she'd found an excuse to move. Now she was forced to have him in her house. That couldn't make her all that happy. His eyes drifted to the television when she sighed dreamily. Then again, her attention was elsewhere at the moment.

"Beer?"

"What?" he asked, returning his attention back to her with a frown.

"Beer," she said, gesturing absently towards the fridge without taking her eyes away from the television.

"Oh," he said with a chuckle as he retrieved two bottles. He handed her one and she took it with a mumbled thanks and then a few choice words for one of the players.

Jason leaned back and watched the show. Not really the game, but Haley as she cooked and ranted. Soon it became obvious that if she wanted the vegetables to be sliced and not mangled every time she didn't agree with a call, he'd have to do it for her.

For the next six hours they cooked, watched the game, ate, laughed, swore and screamed at the game, and got into an hour long fight with the exterminator over the insane amount he wanted to charge them before the argument shifted back to the game. By the end of the night, Haley seemed to have come completely out of her shell around him and he counted himself fortunate to have another buddy. One who actually knew the stats without messing up or having to look them up. Not like several of his friends that he wouldn't mention. It didn't hurt that she was incredibly hot. That was just a bonus.

A nice bonus, but a bonus nonetheless for him from his newest buddy.

Perfection

by

R.L. Mathewson

Perfection Synopsis:

Zoe is used to taking care of herself and has long ago accepted that if anything bad was going to happen, it was going to happen to her. So when she loses her job over something most bosses would probably be happy with and her life starts going down hill from there she doesn't expect it to get any better. She certainly didn't expect any help from the loud jerk next door, but then again she has nothing to lose so puts her trust in him and hopes for the best. What she didn't expect was the once in a lifetime opportunity that he offers her through an arrangement where they both benefit and no one is supposed to get hurt, but she should have known better because her luck has never been that good. Like most Bradfords, Trevor has a soft spot for food, but that's about all. He leads a pretty straightforward life and likes to keep things simple and that includes his relationships. He wants the perfect woman and knows exactly what she'll be like. So when he discovers much to his horror that he's thinking about his frumpy little neighbor he decides the best way to get his head straight is by working her out of his system. He'll keep her around, but only until he finds perfection.

Perfection Excerpt:

"Wouldn't you rather have this old tennis ball?" Zoe asked, holding up the ball and nearly crying in frustration as Toby licked Mr. Cuddles' face and laid his muzzle across her poor defenseless bear's stomach.

"This is so much more fun," she said, tossing the tennis ball in the air and catching it. "See?" she said, giving him a hopeful look that he simply ignored.

"Hey! Don't lick that!" she pleaded as he licked poor Mr. Cuddle's eyes.

"Zoe?" Trevor said through the wall. "Is everything okay?"

Damn it.

"Um, yeah, Everything is fine?" she said loudly, shifting nervously as she wondered, not for the first time, what the hell she was going to do with a dog.

Sooner or later Trevor was going to find out about Toby and send them both packing since there was no way that she was going to be able to keep a dog a secret for very long. She'd thought that she was going to have a heart attack a few hours ago when Toby knocked over her stack of books when she'd been talking with Trevor in the hallway. Her quick thinking certainly hadn't saved her ass, she thought dryly.

Toby chose that moment to bark while his tail thumped happily against her bed.

"Shhhh," Zoe hissed quietly. Oh God, the dog was about to sell her ass down the river.

"What the hell was that?" Trevor demanded.

"Um, my date?" she said, feeling like an idiot.

"Your date?"

"Yeah, we're um, you know, um having sex?" she said, wondering when this hell would end as she dropped her face into her hands, feeling like a moron.

"If you're having sex then why are you talking to me?" Trevor demanded, sounding oddly suspicious. She could have sex if she damn well wanted to. Okay, granted she did want to, but she lacked a willing partner since she really didn't know any available guys. Something she planned on fixing soon, but right now she had other problems to deal with.

"Intermission?" she said, wondering why everything coming out of her mouth sounded like a question. Oh that's right, because she just plain sucked at lying.

"Well," she heard him clear his throat, "I'll just leave you to it then." A minute later she heard his bedroom door shut and she dropped back on the bed in relief. If Trevor didn't kill her when he found out what she was hiding then all this stress damn well would.

"I hate this," she grumbled.

Toby let out a little whimper.

With a little sigh, she looked over to find Toby pouting with his muzzle once again resting on Mr. Cuddle's stomach. "Not you, buddy. None of this is your fault," she said, reaching over to give him a little scratch behind his ears.

"Oh that's good to know," Trevor drawled from her doorway, scaring the living hell out of her.

**Perfection:**
**Chapter 1**

"You stupid bitch! You ruined my life!"

"Mrs. Sands, wait!" Zoe cried, holding her hands in front of her face as she desperately tried to back up in her small cubicle only to bang into the cheap, off-white colored plastic wall, leaving her with nowhere to go and a seriously pissed off woman holding the extra large iced coffee that Zoe had bought ten minutes earlier, coming her way. "Please don't-"

Her words were cut off by a stunned gasp as twenty-four freezing ounces of her much needed caffeine fix hit her in the face, neck, and chest, instantly drenching her.

"You'll pay for what you did!" Mrs. Sands screamed, pulling her hand back to slap Zoe. Thankfully someone, probably Mr. Sands, had already called security and the two large burly guys that she passed every morning in the downstairs lobby grabbed Mrs. Sands and yanked her back before she could make good on the murderous glare she was sending Zoe's way.

"Bitch!" Mrs. Sands screamed, trying to lunge for Zoe as the guards dragged her away. The woman continued to kick and screech promises of revenge as she was carried off the tenth floor.

With a shaky hand, Zoe reached out and grabbed her wobbly office chair. She carefully sat down, making sure to keep most of her weight off the front left wheel. When the chair didn't collapse and deposit her ass on the floor, again, she counted herself lucky.

"I told you to keep your mouth shut," John, the office asshole, said in a bored tone as he walked past Zoe's cubicle.

Yeah, he really had and she was kicking herself for not listening to him when she'd had the chance. With a groan, she dropped her face into her hands and wondered if anyone would notice if she left work a little early today. Of course they would, she thought miserably. The penny-pinching managers watched their employees like hawks, never missing a thing, ready to swoop in and attack at the slightest blunder.

She'd lost count of how many times she'd been written up for "excessive office supply waste" for not reusing paper clips, leaving her computer running for two minutes while she used the bathroom, throwing away paper instead of finding a new use for it, and her absolute favorite, using more than one staple on a packet. If she tried to leave even one minute early they'd know and for the next week they'd double her workload to get back the time they believed she owed them.

After three long years she was too tired to argue or care. At this point she was resigned to coming in at eight-thirty on the dot, putting in eight and half hours, working through her unpaid lunch break, as was required, and then going home to the new hell that she was beginning to hate.

Two months ago when her landlord unceremoniously evicted her so that his eighteen-year-old daughter and her thirty-two year old boyfriend could have her apartment, she'd been desperate to find a decent apartment that she could afford on her meager salary.

When she found a beautiful two level townhouse located in a decent neighborhood for two hundred dollars less than her old apartment, she'd been ecstatic and snatched it up quickly, hoping that it was a sign that maybe things were going to start looking up for her. She really should have known better since nothing in life ever seemed to go her way.

Her first clue should have been the fact that the tenant renting the other unit in the townhouse was her new landlord's nephew. Over the years she'd dealt with that situation enough times that she should have realized from the start that it was going to be a problem. Landlord's relatives were ruder, louder, and had a huge sense of entitlement that made them believe that it was okay to make the rest of the tenants' lives a living hell. She'd learned early on not to complain to the landlord when his kid had all night parties, shouting matches until three in the morning, or when their grandkids detonated water balloons in her mailbox. The result just wasn't worth it.

So when her new neighbor did things like park his pickup truck halfway in her parking spot, leaving her with no choice but to park on the street and risk a parking ticket, she shut her mouth and sucked it up. She knew enough to know that complaining wouldn't help. Whenever he did something to piss her off like steal her paper, blast his television all night, or track mud into their small hallway and all over her cute puppy themed welcome mat, she bit her lip and kept quiet, reminding herself that even with the jerk next door the townhouse was still the best place she'd ever lived in.

"What are you still doing here?" a harsh voice demanded.

Zoe looked up, half-afraid that she'd find Mrs. Sands standing there ready for round two. Instead, she found the woman's husband, Mr. Sands, standing in her cubicle opening, glaring at her with disgust. That was a little unexpected, considering that she was the one who'd realized that five million dollars had been embezzled over the past six years and found the proof that linked Mrs. Sands to the theft. Then again, she could certainly understand why he was in such a pissy mood since his wife had just screwed him over.

"I asked why you're still here, Miss O'Shea. Your employment was terminated an hour ago. I expected you to leave immediately," he said coldly.

"W-what?" Zoe asked, jumping to her feet quickly, too quickly. Her chair fell back with a loud groan while two of the wheels popped off and rolled somewhere beneath her desk. "Why am I fired?"

It didn't make any sense. Most bosses would appreciate finding out that someone had stolen from them, right? She hadn't expected them to be happy, but grateful wouldn't exactly hurt, especially right now.

With a drawn out sigh, Mr. Sands gestured for one of the security guards who'd dragged Mrs. Sands away to step forward. Zoe automatically took a nervous step back.

"Please remove her before she destroys any more company property," Mr. Sands ordered, sounding bored as he stepped away.

Destroy company property? With a frown, she looked down at the chair that had given her nothing but problems over the last three years and by this point consisted mostly of duct tape. Before she could tell him that the chair had been given to her already broken, the large security guard had her by the arm and her worn black purse in the other hand and was dragging her towards the elevator.

"Hey!" she said, desperately trying to dig her feet into the cheap, paper-thin carpet in a vain attempt to stop him. "Why am I being fired?" she asked, reaching out to grab the wall of one of the cubicles only to have the security guard yank her away. Desperate, she grabbed another wall. Damn cheap plastic walls, she thought as her hand slipped off the cubicle wall.

"I don't understand why you're firing me. I'm not the one who stole!" she cried as she was dragged into the elevator. She reached out and slapped her hands against the edge of the elevator door to stop the doors from closing so that she could get her answer.

Mr. Sands shrugged. "Because you should have found it sooner," he said, leaving her absolutely stunned.

Her hands dropped away, allowing the elevator doors to close and her world to crumble.

What the hell was she going to do now?

"I would have kept my mouth shut," the security guard mumbled.

Zoe sighed unhappily. "I really am an idiot."

"Yup."

*-*-*-*

"Please, please, don't be in my spot," Zoe chanted softly as she slowly turned the corner, wishing that she knew how to change, or at least temporarily fix, her windshield wipers while she did her best to squint through the heavy downpour.

A moment later, she slowly came to a stop in front of her house....at least she hoped it was her house. With a small groan, she rolled down the driver's side window and tried not to cringe when the action was accompanied by a grinding noise. Once it was down, Zoe leaned out and tried to make out the color of the townhouse. It was the wrong color, but at least now she knew that she only had two more houses to go.

A car raced past her, sending a wave of muddy water slamming against her car as it crashed through a large puddle, thoroughly soaking her. This day could not get any worse, she thought with a forlorn sigh as she wiped mud out of her eyes only to be proven wrong seconds later when somebody behind her blasted the horn. With a resigned sigh, she started driving again, but apparently not fast enough for the people behind her, who voiced their displeasure with her twenty-yard drive by blasting their horns.

After the day she'd had, she wasn't exactly surprised when she spotted Trevor's pickup truck parked in the middle of the short doublewide driveway that they were supposed to share. Groaning, she did her best to ignore the cars driving past her slow enough so that they could flip her off with a special blast of their horns just in case she hadn't quite gotten the message the first time while she carefully parked her car between two large pickup trucks across the street.

When she tried to close her window she received a rather pleasant surprise when the window closed quietly. Well, that was a relief, she thought, grabbing her purse and climbing out of the car. At least she wouldn't have to worry about paying three hundred dollars to have her windows fixed, again. She closed the door and turned to walk across the street when an odd swooshing sound caught her attention. Praying that it was just a product of her overactive imagination, Zoe turned around and frowned.

Why did the window look so weird?

She pushed her wet hair out of her face and leaned forward to get a better look. It didn't take long before she realized why her window looked so weird. Her window had come off its tracks for probably the hundredth time this year. Dropping her purse, she wiped her wet hands clean on her soaked skirt and grabbed the edge of the window. She tried to pull the window back up only to have it slip through her hands and slide down several inches before it apparently became stuck again.

"Oh no you don't!" she muttered, determined to stop the window from sliding back down into the door where it would have to stay until she could scrounge up the money to have it fixed. With no job or prospects, there was also a very good chance that she'd be living out of her car soon and she wanted to keep it dry and mold free.

It took several minutes, but she finally managed to pull the window back up several inches. One last pull should do it, she hoped, gripping the window tightly and pulled as hard as she could. When the window slid up easily she couldn't help but chuckle. Finally things were-

Her hands slipped and before she could grab the window, it dropped into the door and if the noise that followed was any indication, cracked. She stared numbly at the empty window for a long moment before she picked up her purse, not surprised when the strap broke off or when the heel on her left shoe snapped off a minute later.

Clutching her ruined purse to her chest, she wobbled towards the front door, only getting stuck in the mud twice and losing one shoe, the right one, before she found herself on the front porch, searching her drenched purse for her keys. By the time she found them she was shivering violently from the cold and close to crying for the first time in five years.

She opened the door and spotted her now mud caked puppy welcome mat and sighed. Deciding that there were worse things in life than a ruined doormat, she let herself into her apartment, praying that her next-door neighbor took it easy on her tonight since she wasn't sure that she could handle much more.

Doing her best not to ruin her landlord's carpeting, she made her way over to the phone, deciding that she needed the ultimate pick me up after the day she had. She knew she shouldn't, especially since she would have to live off what little savings she had left, but she just couldn't help herself. She called up Black Jack's Pizzeria and ordered the special: a two liter bottle of Coke, a large order of chicken fingers with extra honey mustard sauce, and an extra large, extra thick Chicago style pizza called, The Monster.

For once, the customary one hour wait for delivery didn't bother her. She pulled off her mud soaked shoe and stockings and made her way upstairs to her bedroom. She grabbed a change of clothes on her way to the bathroom, praying that her surprisingly quiet neighbor remained that way.

She quickly pulled off her soaked, coffee stained, and mud splattered suit and looked it over. As long as she pretreated the stains and washed it tonight it should be fine, at least she hoped it would. She didn't exactly have the funds needed to go out and buy a new suit for job interviews. This one, with the aid of many interchangeable blouses, had lasted for three years and she'd been counting on it to last another two.

After a five-minute search, she found her bottle of generic stain pretreatment behind the box of condoms she'd bought, what was it now? Three years ago? Or was it five? The realization that she hadn't had sex in over five years was rather depressing, she thought, tossing the condoms back under the bathroom sink so that she wouldn't have to look at the reminder that her love life, social life, and professional life just plain sucked.

She liberally sprayed her suit, only wondering if the chemicals in the pretreatment would harm her suit after she sprayed it. Knowing her luck, the chemicals would probably chew through the imitation silk shirt and stain the suit jacket with large weird shaped polka dots.

With a resigned sigh, she left the suit on the sink counter, climbed into her bathtub, and turned on the shower. For the first time all day she felt herself relax. She stood beneath the hot spray for several minutes just enjoying the hot water before she applied shampoo to her hair.

A loud squeal escaped her as the water pressure suddenly dropped and the temperature went from comfortably hot to excruciatingly hot in seconds. Startled, she jumped back, slipped, landed on her butt, and cringed as shampoo seeped into her eyes.

"Ow, ow, owie!" she mumbled frantically as her eyes began to sting and her butt throbbed. She wasn't entirely sure which one bothered her more at the moment, but she knew which one she could fix.

Taking a deep breath, she shoved her head beneath the hot water, silently cursing the low water pressure that was actually pushing more soap into her closed eyes. At least the water began to cool, she thought on a sigh before she squealed again seconds later when the water went ice cold and she was forced to stand up, hoping that would help the still low water pressure rinse her hair out faster.

It didn't.

Gasping, she ran her fingers through her long thick hair and tried to hurry the process. Minutes later she was jumping out of the shower and cursing the bastard next door for not only flushing the toilet, but for taking a shower at the same time as her. The least the jerk could have done when he'd realized that she was also taking a shower was to wait for her to finish.

Still grumbling five minutes later and thankfully dressed in warm clothes, Zoe grabbed her basket of dirty laundry, a roll of quarters, her damn near empty bottle of laundry detergent and headed downstairs. Unfortunately she didn't have a private entrance to the basement so she was forced to balance her basket of laundry while she did her best not to step in one of the dozen or so mud splotches that decorated the hallway floor.

She walked to the door at the end of the small hallway and flicked the light switch on for the stairs all while hoping that the jerk hadn't tracked mud down the stairs, because she really didn't need to fall on her ass again tonight. Zoe sighed in relief when she spotted the clean pine stairs and headed down to the small laundry room.

It wasn't until she'd placed her basket on the washing machine that she'd realized that she'd forgotten her suit. She half-debated leaving it for another day, but she didn't want to take the chance of landing an interview tomorrow and having nothing to wear but jeans.

With a tired sigh, she left her basket and headed upstairs. At least she had Black Jack's pizza to comfort her later, she reminded herself.
Perfection **Chapter 2**

How in the hell had he run out of food? Trevor wondered as he looked in the freezer again, hoping there was something to eat hiding behind the ice cube trays.

There wasn't.

Well, there was a box of baking soda that his Aunt Megan had thrown in there a few months ago when he'd bought the place, but he wasn't willing to risk having his stomach pumped, again. With a frustrated groan, he closed the freezer door and looked out the kitchen window.

He didn't feel like going out in this shit, but he was starving and he didn't have any choice. Of course he could order food, except for the fact that he was still on the banned list for most of the delivery places.

Bastards.

As tired as he was, he knew that he had to move his ass if he was going to make it to the grocery store before it closed. He headed upstairs, stripping off his sweat soaked tee shirt, work boots, and jeans as he went, noting that it looked like every piece of clothing he owned was scattered around his apartment.

Time to do the laundry, he mused as he walked into the bathroom. After he relieved himself and flushed the toilet, he could have sworn he heard a squeal. Shrugging it off, he turned the shower on and cursed up a storm at the low water pressure. He'd have to fix that, but right now he was just glad that the water was nice and hot, helping to relieve the aches in his sore muscles.

Another loud squeak had his eyebrows arching. It wasn't like his normally quiet tenant to blast the television, but as long it didn't interrupt his sleep he'd let it go. After a quick shower, he pulled on a semi clean pair of jeans and grabbed his mesh laundry bag and started collecting clothes off doors, counters, the back of the toilet as he headed downstairs.

"What the fuck?" he mumbled when he saw the mud all over his newly tiled hallway floor. Had he done that? His eyes darted to the ugly ass welcome mat his tenant had placed near the front door and felt his lips pull up into a shit-eating grin. A few more weeks and he'd have the damn thing completely covered.

He made his way towards the basement door, wondering why the hell she'd bought the damn thing. The inbred looking dogs with buggy eyes gave him the fucking creeps. A few weeks ago he'd thrown the damn thing in the trash and replaced it with a Yankees floor mat only to have his aunt toss his floor mat away and return that hideous fucking thing. It didn't matter that he owned the house. His aunt thought the mat was "cute" and it was staying or she would never cook for him again.

He was really sick of women trying to control with food. Not that he was going to bitch and risk losing out on his aunt's chicken pot pie, he wasn't a fucking moron after all, but it would be nice if women would stop using his weakness against him. The Bradford appetite was a disability, damn it and should be treated as such.

It seemed that every girlfriend he'd ever had, from Jenny in the fifth grade, to whatever the hell her name was last year, had all tried to control him with food once they discovered that it was his weakness. Although, he could forgive Jenny for bribing him with candy bars to beat the shit out of her brothers, they were assholes after all, the rest of them truly pissed him off.

Not that he could fault them for wanting to marry him, he couldn't. He was a Bradford after all, but he didn't appreciate their fucking games. How many times had a woman hinted at marriage while she held a casserole under his nose, or woke him up with breakfast in bed, musing how nice it would be to do that for him every day? Then, when he didn't drop down on one knee and propose, they'd withhold all those tasty treats they'd promised him. When a woman started the marriage bullshit he sat them down and explained that they didn't quite live up to his standards, which for some reason always earned him a slap and a denial for more delicious tasty treats.

When he got married, and he would one day, it would be to his perfect woman, the woman who met each and every one of his requirements. So far no woman had ever come close.

His perfect woman would be the best cook. She'd be able to whip him up a cake at a moment's notice. She would never deny him any of her delicious treats no matter how badly he'd pissed her off, and he probably would, every day. She'd also be tall, hot, and have a body that left him panting for more.

She'd also have to be financially well off. Not that he minded supporting his wife, he didn't. He just didn't want a woman too dependent on him or needy. He wasn't interested in being anyone's sugar daddy. He wanted a wife that could function completely without him. She wouldn't give a damn when he made last minute plans to go to New Hampshire for some fishing or decided to stay out late with the guys and didn't call her. She'd also have to come from a big family so that she wouldn't have to rely on him for too much and so that she'd have someone to bitch to at the end of the day and leave him the hell alone.

His stomach rumbled loudly, reminding him that he needed to move his ass. He made his way to the laundry room, dropped his bag by the machine and ran his fingers through his damp hair, trying push it out of his eyes. That reminded him that he needed a haircut. If he didn't get held over tomorrow night, which wasn't looking very likely since they were busting their asses to complete the Madison project, he'd swing by Henry's and get his customary cut.

After dropping his quarters in the machine, he removed the basket left on top of the washer and dropped it on the cement floor, not really giving it much thought. He went to pick up his bag of clothes only to realize that he was out of laundry soap. He'd have to pick some up tonight. He really didn't feel like staying up half the night doing laundry, especially since he had to get up at six and have his ass at work by seven.

With a shrug, he grabbed the laundry soap out of the basket by his feet, figuring that she'd never miss it, and poured the soap in the washing machine.

"Oops," he sighed, when he realized that he'd used the last of the soap. Not really caring, he tossed the now empty container back on the basket as he made a mental note to pick up another bottle for his little neighbor when he went to the grocery store later.

He quickly dumped his clothes in the washing machine, not bothering to let the water suds up since he was so damn hungry and didn't want to wait. He made his way back upstairs just as his neighbor was stepping out of her apartment with an armful of clothes.

"How's it going?" he asked in a bored tone as he headed for his door, not really in the mood to speak with her. Not that he was a snob, he wasn't. He just didn't like to deal with his tenants. That's why he had his aunt deal with all their bullshit. He owned four apartment houses and his aunt managed every one of them for him. He only made an appearance when something needed to be fixed or he found out that one of his tenants was giving his aunt shit.

When he'd bought this place, he'd planned on leaving the second unit empty until he found some time to renovate the place. He'd changed his plans after his aunt strongly recommended that one of his pain in the ass cousins should move in. To keep that from happening, he'd decided to rent the other apartment out before his aunt could do it for him. He'd given his aunt a list of strict rules and this woman was the only one who'd been willing to agree to them without comment.

From what he heard, a lot of the people that looked at the apartment had bitched and whined over his list, but he didn't give a fuck. This was his house and he wasn't about to put up with any bullshit. If they wanted to have their friends over at all hours of the night, have parties, or blast their music then they could keep fucking walking, because he wasn't having it. After working a twelve-hour day all he wanted to do was come home to a nice, quiet house and relax.

Thankfully, this woman followed his rules so he never had to talk with her or kick her out on her ass. He had to admit that the extra income was nice. Granted, it only covered about half his grocery bill, but hey, every little penny counted.

"Hi," she mumbled quickly as she walked past him. He paused to look over his shoulder and frowned. She was short, chubby, pale, and plain, but she was without a doubt the best tenant he'd ever had. Maybe he should make chubby and plain the requirement for all his tenants, he thought with a chuckle.

He was just about to open his apartment door when a knock at the front door caught his attention. Grumbling, he walked over to the door, hoping his tenant wasn't going to make a habit of having people over after eight, and opened the door. He nearly swallowed his tongue when he spotted the familiar pizza logo on the guy's shirt.

"Is this 23 Bedford Street?" the kid asked.

Trevor nodded dumbly as his eyes took in the oversized pizza box Black Jack's was famous for and the small cardboard box on top of it. He sniffed, allowing his Bradford senses to kick in and do its thing. In seconds, he knew that he had a "Monster" and a large order of chicken tenders within snatching distance.

His fingers twitched with the need to snatch the food out of the guy's hands and make a run for it.

"That'll be $26.50. I'm sorry it took so.....wait a minute," the guy said, frowning. "You're not a Bradford, are you?" he asked, quickly taking in Trevor's dark hair, good looks, and large muscular build.

"No, no of course I'm not," Trevor said quickly, fully prepared to tackle the bastard if the kid tried to leave with his food.

Granted, that may have been one of the reasons why he was placed on the banned list at Black Jacks in the first place, but they really should have known better than to show up at his door at eleven o'clock at night with someone else's order. Besides, he'd only scared the hell out of the guy. He hadn't really harmed the kid. At least, that's what the Judge decided when he'd dismissed the case against him.

He wasn't exactly sure what the rest of the men in his family did to earn a place on the banned list, but he could guess. The kid took a cautious step back as Trevor prepared to lunge at him. The deliveryman gestured with his chin towards the mailbox even as he prepared to flee. "It says Bradford on the mailbox."

"That's my neighbor," he said, forcing himself to remain calm as he pulled his wallet out of his back pants pocket. He pulled out two twenties and handed them to the guy who was still looking unsure about the whole thing. "Keep the change."

That seemed to help clear things up. He handed Trevor the food and a two-liter bottle of Coke and smiled. "Thank you, sir. You have a nice night."

"I will now," Trevor mumbled as his mouth watered. He closed the door and turned around only to find his little tenant standing in front of him, glaring at the food in his hands.

"Is that my order?" she demanded as she pushed a strand of her wet mahogany hair behind her ear, narrowing her baby blue eyes on his face.

"Um, no?" he cleared his throat, realizing that sounded more like a question than an answer. "This is my order."

"Oh." She frowned. "Sorry," she mumbled, heading back to her apartment. He wasn't too surprised that she hadn't bitched about him stealing the washer from her. She never bitched, making her his favorite kind of tenant.

He walked into his apartment and shut the door behind him, eager to dig into his food. He set the boxes down on the coffee table and turned on the game, which was thankfully, still in the second inning. He headed to the kitchen to grab a glass and a handful of napkins.

Just as he was about to sit down and help himself to the first slice, someone knocked on his door. Having a pretty good idea who it was, he ignored it. The knocking continued for another minute before it thankfully stopped. He picked up a thick slice of that beautiful pizza and almost wept. It had been too damn long since he'd had a slice of the most perfect pizza ever made.

He was just about to take a bite when the slice of pizza was ripped out of his hands. It took him a minute to realize what the hell had just happened. By the time he figured it out, his eyes were narrowing dangerously on his frumpy little neighbor as she tossed the slice of pizza back in the box and closed it. He watched as she placed the box of chicken tenders on top, picked them both up and headed for the door only to pause and return for the bottle of soda.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded, getting to his feet.

"Getting my order. I called. Not only did you not order this, but apparently you're on some sort of banned list," she said, heading for the door once again.

Trevor was up and over the couch in seconds, blocking her way. "That's my food!" he snapped.

"No, it's not!"

"Yes, it is!"

"I ordered it!"

"So what? I paid for it. Put it back and get the hell out of my apartment!"

Her eyes narrowed on him as she squared her shoulders. "Look, I've put up with a lot of crap from you over the last two months, but stealing my Black Jack's pizza after I've had the worst day of my life is the last straw. So, I really don't give a damn if you go crying to your aunt about this and get me evicted. I'm taking my pizza home and I'm going to enjoy it."

A lot of what she said and how she said it pissed him off, but he forced himself to focus as he reached out and snatched the box of pizza from her hands, earning a surprised gasp and a rather cute little growl as he stepped away from her. Glaring, she stalked after him. He couldn't blame her. It was Black Jack's pizza after all.

"What the hell have I put you through? I've been a fucking perfect neighbor," he pointed out, sidestepping her as she tried to steal his chicken tenders.

She snorted at that. "Puhlease."

"I have!"

"Really?" she demanded, folding her arms over her faded blue tee shirt and rather large chest.

"Yes, really!" he snapped back, forcing his eyes away from her chest. Shit. If he was checking out a woman like her then it really had been too long since the last time he got laid.

For some reason, she took that as her cue to share.

"You park in my spot so that I'm forced to park on the street. I've gotten four parking tickets thanks to you," she snapped, making him frown. "You steal my paper every morning. You run the hot water when I'm taking a shower, leaving me to freeze my ass off with no water pressure! You blast your television all night. You're loud and so are your friends. Every time I go to use the washing machine you steal it or worse, you take my clothes out of the dryer before they're done drying and throw them on top of my dirty clothes and on the floor."

When he opened his mouth to argue she continued, cutting him off. "And every night you watch porn!" she said accusingly, and he swore he felt his cheeks burn. Fuck. This was embarrassing. Well, at least she didn't say-

"And you're loud. Really loud," she stressed, further pissing him off.

"Look, no one stopped you from telling me all this shit before. You wouldn't have gotten any of those tickets if you had just opened your fucking mouth and asked me to move my truck. Same deal goes for the water. How the hell was I supposed to know that you were having a problem with your water if you didn't tell me?" he demanded, not mentioning any of those other things since they just made him look bad.

"Why in the hell would I tell you about the water?" she demanded, trying to steal his pizza.

"Because I'm the fucking landlord!" he snapped, yanking the pizza away from her sneaky little hands.

"No, you're not," she snorted, trying to steal his pizza, again.

"Call my aunt if you think I'm lying. I own this house," he said, stepping away, but not fast enough.

The damn woman managed to steal his chicken fingers!

She considered him for a long moment while he tried to figure out how to steal back his precious chicken tenders. "Why would you have your aunt pretend she's the landlord?" she finally asked.

"Because I hate dealing with tenants," he said, switching the pizza to one hand and swiping out with the other to grab the small box away from her. She simply moved it out of his reach.

"Well," she said, sighing, "then I guess you're the one I should talk to since I'm probably going to have to move out in a month."

"Fine," he bit out, glaring at the box in her hands. If she tried to leave with his chicken tenders so help him, he would-

"Okay, so give me back my pizza," she said, holding her hands out expectantly.

"No. You give me back my chicken tenders."

"No."

Something in him snapped. He wasn't sure if it was from hunger, the embarrassment from knowing that she could hear him at night, or just the bullshit in general, but he said something that he regretted before the last syllable left his mouth.

"It's not like you need it."

Checkmate

by

R.L. Mathewson

Checkmate Synopsis:

There's nothing worse than living next door to your childhood nemesis, except maybe being forced to share your dream project with him, being blackmailed into going along with something that was just wrong on so many levels, and having your hot cocoa stolen by the person that drove you to drink it in the first place. As long as she has plenty of hot cocoa, a pair of pliers on hand and is able to resist Connor O'Neil's bad boy charm then Rory James should be able to make it through this project with her sanity intact.

If not.....

She'd probably face a few more nights in jail, have a few more restraining orders slapped against her and lose her heart to the man that ruined her life.

Checkmate Excerpt:

"Let me go!" Rory snapped as he kicked the office door shut behind him.

"Sure thing," he said, releasing her just as she tried to yank her arm free. The move sent her stumbling back and muttering a few choice words about him and his ass, which he easily ignored. He walked around her desk and sat down in her surprisingly comfy chair.

"Get the hell out of my chair," Rory snapped as she walked around the desk and glared down at him. Perhaps he shouldn't have stolen her hot cocoa since the little addict seemed on edge. Then again, he did enjoy ruffling her feathers so to speak.

"I'm sorry. Did you want to sit down?" he asked innocently.

"Yes," she hissed out as her hands clenched and unclenched into fists.

With a shrug, he reached out and grabbed her hand, giving it a good yank and taking her by surprise. With an adorable little squeak, her beautiful ass landed on his lap. Before she could move, he had his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled tightly against him so that her side was pressed up against his chest and her legs hung over his.

"Now, I think we should probably go over your duties, don't you?" he asked brightly, loving the murderous scowl she sent him.

"The only duty I have at the moment is to kick your ass," she bit out, practically shaking with rage that he of course ignored as he settled more comfortably in the chair.

"The most important thing that you need to remember is that I take two sugars in my coffee and just a splash of half and half," he explained as he allowed his eyes to roam.

Was it just him or did she look hotter when she was pissed? His eyes ran from her beautiful neck with a few tendrils of damp hair plastered against it, down to the beautiful tanned skin of her shoulders, to the pair of large breasts that stretched the shirt's material to perfection. She truly was magnificent.

"My eyes are up here," she pointed out.

"Uh huh," he said, not bothering to look up.

With an exasperated sigh, she cupped his chin and forced him to look up and meet her eyes. "Stop pissing me off or I'm going to have to kill you," she said in a low even tone, sounding as though she'd meant it and he knew that if she could figure out a way to hide his body that she'd probably would do it. Then again, she'd been saying that same damn thing to him since they were six so he really wasn't too concerned.

"That's nice," he said absently as he shifted her on his lap and pulled her closer. "I tell you what, Rory. If you do a really good job and stay away from my site, I might just give you a special bonus when this is all done. How does that sound?" he asked in his most patronizing voice, unable to help himself even though he knew that he was pissing her off.

"This is my project, too," she said, glaring daggers at him through narrowed eyes.

He nodded in agreement as he continued, "Which is why you should be a good little girl and stay out of the way so that we can get this project finished on time."

She tried to climb off his lap, but of course he wouldn't let her. Not when he was comfortable and well, that's all that he really cared about, but apparently she couldn't give a damn about his comfort. Kind of selfish of her, he thought as she went for his nipples. With a curse, he released his hold on her so that he could protect his poor little nipples before the vicious woman could tear them off.

"Do the rules mean nothing to you?" he demanded, feeling like an idiot with his hands plastered against his chest. He dropped his hands away as he came to his feet and stood so that he could glare down at the woman.

"As long as I'm stuck with you on this project and you try to get in my way, anything goes," she said, stepping into him as she met his glare and he just barely bit back the groan that was threatening to escape as her large, warm breasts pressed tightly against his chest.

Somehow he forced himself to ignore them and focus on the little problem at the moment.

Rory.

He leaned down further until their noses were practically touching. "Is that a fact?" he demanded evenly.

"Yes," she practically hissed as her eyes narrowed on his.

"You're only here because of my generosity, Rory. Push me and you might just find yourself locked in the trunk of a car on a ferryboat headed off to Nova Scotia......again," he said softly, loving the way that she practically shook with rage against him.

"I knew that was you, you bastard!" she snarled, looking torn between going for his nipples again or flat-out killing him.

"You deserved it," he felt obligated to remind her.

She scoffed. "I was twelve!"

"You superglued my shorts to my ass!"

The smile that teased her lips transformed her face from pretty to breathtakingly beautiful in a matter of seconds. He was damn thankful that she didn't know the effect that had on him or she'd do it to bring him to his knees and God help him, but he'd love every fucking second of it.

She chuckled softly as she moved to put a little space between them. "I'd actually forgotten about that."

"I haven't," he bit out tightly, pissed that she'd moved away from him and took her warmth with her.

"I'm sure that you deserved it," she said with a shrug like it was no big deal that it took a month, five specialists and about a hundred experimental procedures that took a pound of flesh from his ass before they were able to remove every last scrap of his basketball shorts off his ass.

"I didn't!" he snapped, unable to remember exactly what he'd done to piss her off enough to break into the boy's locker room and squirt superglue into his shorts, but he was sure that he hadn't done anything to deserve it. As far as he was concerned, that prank had been unprovoked and he was the innocent party in all of-

"Now I remember why I did that," she said, looking angry once again. "You snuck laxatives into my food and then locked all the girl's bathrooms in the school with bicycle locks so that I was left with no choice but to use the boy's bathroom where you and your stupid friends locked me inside without any toilet paper or paper towels, you jerk!"

Huh, he'd actually forgotten about that one, he realized with a careless shrug. "Whatever. The point is, Rory, this is my project. I've busted my ass to get it and I'm not about to let you fuck it up for me."

"This is our project," she said, getting back in his face where she belonged, "and as long as you remember that we'll be fine, but the next time that you try to stop me from doing my job I will kick. Your. Ass."

He leaned in closer. "Your job is to fetch my coffee, food and whatever else I need and as long as you remember how I like my coffee everything will be fine."

"You can shove your coffee right up your-"

"There's a problem," Rory's assistant said as he burst through the door.

Checkmate:
Prologue

Twenty-five years earlier.........

"Rory's a boy's name," the mean little boy, who'd pushed her off the swing only seconds earlier, announced as he glared down at her accusingly.

Never taking her eyes away from the bully, Rory slowly got up as she wiped dirt off her shirt and jeans. When she finally stood up all the way she was forced to tilt her head back slightly so that she could continue to glare at him the way that her older brothers had taught her.

"It's a girl's name," she said, taking a deep breath and shoving him back.

One thing she'd learned thanks to having five older brothers was never to let anyone push her around. Once you did, you'd have to sleep with one eye open and keep an eye out for snakes in your bed, spit in your cereal, and toenails in your mac and cheese. She might have to put up with five big bullies at home, but that didn't mean that she had to put up with it at preschool, she decided as she gave the boy that had all the girls giggling and calling cute, another shove.

"You're ugly!" he practically sneered as he reached over and pulled one of her pigtails, hard.

"Well, you smell like my brother's butt!" she said, shoving him hard, because she really couldn't call him ugly since he was kind of cute with honey blonde hair and green eyes.

"Well, you look like my uncle's butt!" he said, yanking the other pigtail hard enough to make her eyes sting.

"Well, you-"

"That's enough of that!" Mrs. Fitzpatrick, the mean woman her father had left her with, said as she grabbed them both by the arm. With a firm tug, she dragged them towards the large multicolored building that her father said looked like a rainbow had taken a shit on. She wasn't sure what shit was exactly, but she knew that no matter what it was that her father was probably right.

"She started it!" the boy pointed out as they were dragged to the small table in the far corner with the scary clown painted on it.

"That's enough of that, Connor," Mrs. Fitzpatrick said sternly as she planted them both on wobbly, red-blotched stools. "You will both sit here and think about what you did while the rest of the children enjoy free play."

Rory narrowed her eyes on the little boy that had cost her a turn on the swings as he narrowed his eyes on her.

"You'll pay for this," he promised tightly.

"No, you will," she said, knowing the second, the very second, that Mrs. Fitzpatrick turned her back on them that the large jar of pink glitter by the window was going to find its way into Connor's hair.

*-*-*-*

Twenty years earlier..........

"Give it back, Connor!"

He held it up higher, making little Rory James jump for it. She tried to glare at him, but unlike the other boys at school he wasn't afraid of her or her big brothers. As far as he was concerned, little Rory James had been put on this earth solely for him to torture and torture her he did.

"Give what back?" he asked innocently, waving her notebook in the air above the brown pond water just to taunt her. Not that he was going to give it back to her, he wasn't. In a minute or two when he got bored with this, he fully planned on throwing it in the water with the hopes that she'd go after it.

"My notebook, you jerk!" she said, giving up on trying to get it back and moving on to the kicking phase, but he was ready for that. After five years of making her life a living hell he knew what to expect and he knew that if he gave her a chance she'd kick him between the legs and drop him to the ground. Then she'd probably make him eat dirt, again.

"Just give her the notebook," Zack, the annoying boy from Mrs. Plumes' class who'd been following after Rory for the past two weeks like a puppy dog, said. Connor hadn't minded the kid before he'd started following after Rory. He was a decent basketball player and knew how to make an awesome spitball, but he didn't like anyone getting between him and Rory.

"I can take care of myself," Rory said, never taking her eyes away from him, which pleased him immensely, but he was still pretty annoyed with the interruption.

"Why don't you come take it for her?" he suggested to the boy as he reached out and palmed Rory's face and shoved her away before she tried to kick him while he was distracted. With a curse that would probably have her father reaching for a bar of soap, she stumbled backwards, fell over a dead log and landed in the mud. Connor would have laughed, but he had other things to do at the moment.

"Fine," the only slightly smaller boy said as he stormed over and made a move to grab the notebook. With a bored sigh, Connor held the notebook higher and further away. As soon as Zack reached out for it, Connor hooked his foot between the boy's legs and pulled up just as he turned, causing the boy to lose his balance and take a header into the dirty water.

"Next time mind your own business," he said, laughing as the boy started to cry. Crying over a little dirty water, what a dork, Connor thought. Rory wouldn't have cried. She never cried, which he took as a personal challenge.

"And next time," Rory suddenly said as he felt her small hands press against his back and shove, "don't touch my math homework." With that, he went stumbling forward and landed in the water right next to the big crybaby.

Connor rolled over and spit a mouthful of murky water at Rory, laughing when it hit her bare leg. Deciding that wasn't nearly good enough, he used her now soaked notebook and splashed her until she was as wet as he was.

He wasn't entirely surprised when she launched herself at him instead of running off and crying like most of the girls he knew would have done. There was no running off and crying for Rory James, not when she could try and kick his ass.

As they rolled around in the muddy water, trying to make the other one eat a handful of mud, he couldn't help but smile. She was just so much fun to torture, he thought as he forced a handful of mud and god only knows what else in her mouth.

*-*-*-*

Fifteen years earlier.........

"There's no talking in detention," Mr. Williams snapped.

Rory shoved her green, black, and pink paint splattered hair out of her face and wondered, not for the first time, why the school hadn't let them either use the showers in the locker rooms or sent them home to wash up and start their two weeks of detention tomorrow. It would have made more sense and would have saved them from having to stand at the back of the room on newspapers so that they didn't get paint everywhere as well as the embarrassment of having the other kids laughing at them.

"That's what I told her, Mr. Williams," Connor said, discretely reaching out when Mr. Williams became distracted by a spitball flying past his head and shoved Rory, making her stumble off their newspaper and onto the pristine white tiled floor.

"You bastard!" she hissed out as she jumped back onto the newspaper, but not before her paint soaked stocking feet left large smears of black and red paint all over the floor.

"Just wait until detention's over, Rory. You're going to pay for making me miss practice," he said, shoving her again, but this time she managed to stay on the newspaper.

"We wouldn't be here if you hadn't shoved me into the art room," she said, shoving him back, causing him to stumble, slip and slide on the floor, leaving an impressive streak of green and pink paint behind.

"If anyone should be mad, it's me. You made me miss work!'" she said, giving him another shove that added a little bit of black paint to the mix.

After this little episode she'd be lucky if she still had a job. Her father told her that if she pulled any bullshit she was fired. She hoped that he meant any bullshit on the job, because otherwise she was screwed since she couldn't seem to go a day without getting into it with Connor.

Over the years their parents, teachers, the priest at their church, their coaches, and even the Neighborhood Watch had gone out of their way to keep them apart, but nothing worked. Absolutely nothing. In the past ten years they hadn't been placed in the same classroom at school or CCD at church. They weren't allowed to play on the coed teams after school out of fear that they'd beat each other with baseball bats, and Neighborhood watches all over town blew those damn whistles whenever the two of them were spotted together.

It was really annoying.

They hadn't gone a day in the last ten years, not even when she was laid up in bed with the flu last year, without giving each other hell. She still remembered waking up at two in the morning to find Connor short sheeting her bed while she was still in it! To this day she didn't know how he'd managed to sneak into her room for two weeks straight. It wasn't like her room was on the first floor or she'd left her windows unlocked. No matter what she did the jerk always found a way to break in and piss her off into a speedy recovery so that she could kick his ass.

When he was laid up for two weeks after she'd gotten over the flu she'd made damn sure to return the favor.

"Oh please, it's not like you have a real job. I bet your daddy," he said mockingly, and he was the only one with the balls to do it, "has you fetching his drinks."

She had to snort at that. Her father worked her to the bone. She did everything her brothers had to do and more, because she had a talent and skill with the saws that none of them could touch. Every day after school, she joined her brothers and father wherever he was working that day and they worked their asses off until dinner time. Then they went home, made dinner, did their homework and passed out.

Even though she knew that her father worked them hard because he wanted to keep them out of trouble, she didn't care. She loved working with her family and earning her own money. It also didn't hurt that she was learning a job that she hoped to do after high school.

"At least I know who my father is," she said, knowing it was a low blow, but then again so was sitting on top of her so that he could pour gallon after gallon of paint on her.

"Well, at least my mother didn't run off with the milkman," he said, getting in her face and just like that she snapped. It didn't matter that there was twenty witnesses in the room or that extra month of detention that would no doubt be added onto her time. All that mattered was wiping that smug look off the bastard's face.

"It was the mailman, you bastard!" she said, lunging for him.

"Same damn thing," he muttered as he put her in a headlock and took her to the ground.

*-*-*-*

Ten years earlier.......

"But I love you, Connor," Jill, Jen, or whatever the hell her name was, said.

"Uh huh, that's nice," he said absently as he watched the asshole who'd been hanging around Rory for way too long, wrap his arm around her shoulders and kiss her. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have something very important to do," he said, not caring if she heard him over the loud music.

"Connor!" she said, grabbing onto his arm to stop him from leaving her. With an annoyed sigh, he gently removed her hand from his arm and walked away. He damn neared rolled his eyes when he heard her profess her undying love for him.

He couldn't help but wonder what the hell was wrong with her. They'd had sex, not even good sex, once. There had never been any promises or declarations of love, but for some reason she thought that meant they were meant to be. Why in the hell did women get so damn clingy? It wasn't as if he hadn't made it damn clear that he'd used her for sex.

"Whoa! What the hell was wrong with Rick inviting you and Rory to the same party?" Ted, a guy he'd gone to high school with, asked, laughing as he held up his beer to Connor in salute.

"No clue," he answered without taking his eyes off his prey since he had about five minutes before Rick and his buddies tried to remove him. Two hours ago he'd been too tired to crash this party, but then he happened to stop for some gas and a cold soda and overheard the prick in front of him brag to his frat buddies that he was going to fuck a virgin townie tonight and earn twenty points.

Normally, he wouldn't have cared what one of the asshole college kids did, but when he heard Rory's name, he of course decided that he had to do something. She was his to screw over, no one else's and especially not some fucking college punk's. It didn't matter that they were no longer kids, she was still the best part of his day and he'd be damned if he let some other asshole cause her grief when it was still his damn job. Once upon a time he'd hoped for something else, but.......

It was never going to happen and it was pointless to wish for something that common sense told him would never happen. He'd fucked up big time and made damn sure that there would never be anything more between them a few months ago. For now, he'd have to settle for keeping an eye out for her and enjoying their daily antics, which did entertain him immensely. Since this was all they would ever have, he made damn sure that he enjoyed himself.

A minute later he smoothly stepped in their path, blocking them as they tried to leave. He ignored Rory as she glared up at him since he had more important things to deal with at the moment. His eyes dropped to their entwined hands before settling back on the prick's face.

"Did you earn your twenty points yet, Mark?" he asked, drawing everyone's attention and not giving a damn.

Mark's eyes widened. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," the little shit said, lying.

"That must suck having a short term memory problem, especially in college. Should I refresh your memory?" he asked, barely aware that someone had shut off the music and not really caring.

"I-I-I...," the man stammered nervously as he dropped Rory's hand and stepped away from her.

"Mark?" Rory asked, glancing between the two of them.

"I-I-I..," he continued to stammer.

"Good answer, Mark," Connor drawled, wondering where she found these losers. The last one made this one look like fucking Einstein, but he hadn't been this much fun to fuck over.

Rory sighed long and heavy as she gestured for him to get on with it. There was no drama or theatrics with this woman. She knew the game as well as he did and wasn't going to freak out over the impending blow. They'd screwed each other over enough times that they were pretty much immune to public humiliation by now. That didn't mean that she was going to take this lying down. He fully expected some sort of retaliation.

"Seems your little boyfriend here is trying to pop your cherry so that he can earn some points with his frat brothers," Connor said, trying to hide how surprised he'd been to find out that she was still a virgin. Then again, he did fuck up her life on a daily basis so maybe he shouldn't be that surprised. He'd lost track of how many losers he'd run off in the last five years.

She was quiet for a moment before she frowned up at Mark. "Is that true?"

Connor snorted at that. As if he'd lie. She really should know better by now.

"I-I......it was......" Mark noticeably swallowed as he backed away from Rory with his hands up in a pacifying motion. "It was just for fun, honestly. It's no big deal."

"I see," Rory mumbled, but didn't make a move to run away or cry like most women would. She simply stood there glaring at the man.

"You're not going to hit me, are you?" Mark asked, sounding like a pussy.

Rory simply shrugged. "I don't have to."

Mark frowned, dropping his hands. "Why not?"

"Because they will," Connor answered for her, grinning when five huge men broke through the crowd and started to circle Mark, looking ready to tear him apart and they probably would.

"But it was just a-" Whatever he would have said was cut off by a fist from one of Rory's brothers.

"Thanks for the head's up," Rory said as she passed him.

"No problem," he said, following after her. He was more than ready to go to bed and get some sleep. He was exhausted, which was probably the reason he didn't see it, or rather her, coming.

As soon as he stepped outside he realized that Rory was nowhere to be seen. He really should have known better, he thought as Rory dumped what had to be a gallon of piss warm beer over his head.

"Thanks again," she said pleasantly as she handed him the empty jug and headed towards her car.

"No, problem," he said, fighting back a yawn as he headed after her, only pausing long enough to snatch a large bag of ice out of someone's hand.

Checkmate:
Chapter 1

"Come on, come on, come on," Rory mumbled as she waited for the only traffic light in town to turn green. Just as it did, she sighed with immense relief, which abruptly ended when Mrs. Church, Golden, New Hampshire's oldest citizen, took the green light as the signal to walk across the street, using her walker.

Her eyes shot to the dimly lit clock on her dashboard and whimpered. She was five minutes late! She could not be five minutes late. Not today. Normally it would just irritate her, but today it felt like it was a life or death matter. She needed Mrs. Church to haul her ninety-six year old ass across the street before the light turned red.

Rory tapped her thumbs against the steering wheel as she stared intently at Mrs. Church in an effort to will the old woman to move quickly. It only seemed to draw Mrs. Church's attention. The older woman stopped right in front of Rory's new, well new to her, Jeep and smiled and waved at Rory.

Fighting back the urge to gesture for the older woman to move her ass, Rory forced a smile and returned her wave. After a few seconds, Mrs. Church slowly turned back around and raised her walker, set it a few inches in front of her and shuffled. Rory watched as she raised the walker again, gained six more inches and shuffled.

The light turned red.

She groaned as Mrs. Church turned and sent her another friendly wave. Rory debated getting out of the car and helping her across the street, but she knew that would only encourage Mrs. Church to stop in the middle of the street and brag about her great grandchildren.

All thirty-four of them.

Two red lights and three green lights later, Mrs. Church was safely across the street and Rory was gunning it. Two minutes later she was in front of McGill's main office on Center Street, waiting for a minivan full of kids driven by a woman, who looked like she was going to snap if she heard "The wheels on the bus goes round and round" one more time, to pull out of her spot.

As she waited for the van to pull out, Rory put on her left blinker, officially declaring her claim on the spot while she took the opportunity to calm her breathing. It probably wouldn't look professional to go in there sweating and panting like a woman who needed a cocaine fix, although she really could go for a large cup of hot cocoa with a large spoonful of fluff in it, her one true weakness. Maybe after this she could-

Her thoughts were cut off when she realized that her spot was free and clear. Sighing with relief, Rory started to turn into the space when a black pickup cut her off and took the spot.

Rory could only stare for a moment, shocked that someone had ignored the universally agreed upon parking spot rule of the blinker. Perhaps he hadn't seen her blinker?

All thoughts about this being a simple mistake flew out of her head when he stepped out of the truck. She ground her jaw as she pressed the "down" button for the passenger side window. Once it was down, she politely asked the bane of her existence to move his truck.

"Move your ass, O'Neil! That's my spot!"

The bastard smiled. Smiled!

"Oh, is this your spot?" he asked, feigning innocence, but Rory knew the man was anything but innocent. He was a bad boy, even his looks gave him away, and that damn smile of his let him get away with everything. The life-ruining bastard!

"Yes!" she snapped. "You know damn well that's my spot! Why else would I have been sitting here waiting with my blinker on?"

He sighed dramatically. "Yes, I did see that now that you mention it."

"Then move!" she said, not caring about playing their usual game of pissing each other off today. She had a huge contract to sign, damn it!

He nodded as he fixed his tie and leaned into the cab of his truck. Rory tapped her thumbs against the steering wheel once again happy that the man had enough sense to skip the bullshit this morning. Maybe today would be-

"I'll move it," he said, pausing as he stepped away from his truck with a folder in his hand and shut his door, "right after my meeting."

Her jaw dropped as the life-ruining bastard walked away laughing.

*-*-*-*

"Ah, good times," Connor sighed happily as he stepped inside the office. Taunting a woman shouldn't be so much fun, but it was. It always had been where Rory was concerned. Hell, he'd even enjoyed screwing with her back in preschool.

Sure there were about a dozen other little girls that he could have tormented with paint, paste and pushed down into the mud, but why bother when there was always little Rory James around? She was just asking for it with those two little pigtails, tomboy clothes and little know-it-all attitude. As the school bully, it had been his job to make her life a living hell and he'd taken his job quite seriously all those years ago. Hell, he still did.

There was just something about screwing with her that brought a smile to his face. That was probably why three years ago he'd bought the run down house right next to hers. Sure there were other fixer-uppers that he could have bought for half the price, but none of them would have provided him with entertainment of living next door to Rory.

He ran a hand over the back of his head, smoothing down his hair as he headed towards the little blushing secretary that was trying to pretend that she wasn't watching his approach.

"Good morning, Mary, how are you this morning?" he asked in his most charming voice.

She nodded, shyly averting her eyes. "Mr. McGill will be with you in a few minutes, Mr. O'Neil. Please have a seat and help yourself to some coffee," she mumbled quietly while she gestured to the small waiting area with three chairs lined up against the wall and a gourmet coffee table with one of those insanely expensive coffee machines that used mini cups of ground coffee to make single cups.

Connor winked. "Thank you." He walked over to the waiting area and decided a good cup of coffee would help settle his nerves, not that he doubted that he was getting the job. There was no doubt that he would get it this time. He'd put in the time and had his work to back him up. No one within a hundred miles could match the price. This job was as good as his.

He was reaching for a single cup serving of gourmet French vanilla coffee when a single brown serving cup caught his eye. Picking it up, he couldn't help but smile as he held the last serving of gourmet hot chocolate in his hand. Not that he was particularly fond of hot chocolate, he really wasn't, but he knew a certain someone that was.

A minute later he was sitting down with a cup of frothy hot chocolate. Not as good as coffee, but not too bad. He placed his folder on the empty chair next to him and sipped his drink while he waited.

He didn't even bother trying hide his amusement when Rory half stumbled into the reception area and made a beeline for Mary's desk, almost falling over seven times in the process. Why she'd tried to walk in those heels he would never know. She was already tall, taller than most women in town and a good majority of the men at five-ten. He was not one of them since he had a good five inches on her. She really didn't need the heels, but he rather liked what they did for those beautiful tan legs of hers. Although, he would never admit that she looked good, really good, in that little business outfit that accentuated her size D's, and he would bet his life they were D's, and the high heels that she clearly didn't know how to walk in, she was easily the sexiest woman that he'd ever seen.

He noticed that she wore a little bit of makeup today, interesting. She looked good, but then again she always looked good. He especially liked her hair, always had, even when it used to be pulled up into pigtails. There was just something about wavy caramel hair with natural blonde highlights with those sky blue eyes that drove him nuts.

Connor watched as Mary informed her that Mr. McGill was running behind and gestured for her to sit in the waiting area. Rory didn't look happy about the wait, but she looked decidedly pissed off seconds later when she spotted him. Her eyes narrowed on him as she walked, stumbled, over to the complimentary coffee table all while glaring at him.

Connor sipped his cocoa, watching as Rory searched for her precious hot chocolate.

"Mary, is there any hot chocolate?" the little addict asked, sounding anxious for a fix.

"Sorry, hun, if it's not there, then we don't have it."

Sighing, she nodded and carefully walked the ten steps over to the waiting area only to stop abruptly and glare at him.

"Is something wrong, Rory?" he asked, acting as if he didn't know what had her panties in a twist.

"You're sitting in the middle," she bit out.

He made a show of looking down around where he sat and then at each chair beside him. "Hmm, look at that so I am," he said in an amused tone.

"Move," she demanded, gesturing impatiently for him to move his ass.

Sighing, he took a sip of his drink. "I can't."

"You can't or you won't?" she demanded.

"Both."

Rory glared at him, then at each empty chair before looking around desperately for another chair. When she couldn't find any means to distance herself from him, which he knew that she was dying to do, she sat down as far as she could in the chair to his right.

Sighing loud and long to annoy the shit out of her, he stretched his right arm out and then dropped it along the back of her chair.

"Do you mind?" she asked, looking pointedly at his arm.

He shook his head. "No, not really."

She opened her mouth, probably to tell him off for the millionth time, shut it and shook her head, muttering, "I don't have time for games today."

That was too bad, because he rather enjoyed their little battles. He made a show of sipping his drink. "Mmmm, that's good cocoa."

Rory first glared at him then at his cup.

"You took the last hot cocoa?"

"Uh huh," he answered, taking another sip.

She nodded slowly. "I see."

"I'm sure that you do."

Just as he went to take another sip of that rather creamy cup of hot cocoa that was tasting better and better with each passing second, she jabbed him in the side with a finger the same time she made a grab for his cup. He tried to pull the cup away, but she just dug that damn finger harder into his side.

Shit! That really hurt!

Deciding that it was better to give up the cocoa than to let her make his eyes tear up, he released the cup. Rory twisted her finger harder into his side, digging deep for good measure before backing off. Glaring at her, he rubbed his side while she happily sipped his cocoa.

Damn, there were a lot of things in life that he regretted and right now showing her that little trick in sixth grade when she wouldn't let him cut her in the lunch line was one of them. He winced as he rubbed the sore spot. Well, it looked like she'd perfected that move.

"I spit in that you know," he lied.

She simply shrugged when most women would have probably screeched, gagged, and shoved it back at him. Not Rory James. She made a show of taking a huge sip of the cocoa.

"I think I've been immune to your germs since the ninth grade," she pointed out, making him smile.

Ah, good times. For six months he'd found ways to spit in her food and drinks without her and her little band of geeks, nerds, and dorks finding out about it. His friends of course did their part by distracting her so that he could break into her locker and took pictures of the act.

On her birthday, he'd placed all those lovely pictures in a small box, gift wrapped it, and placed it inside her locker. Then he leaned against the locker across from hers and waited with all his friends and half the school for her to open it. Everyone watched as she opened her locker, waiting for her reaction. She first looked surprised to find the present in her locker and of course that turned to horror as she flipped through the pictures. She hadn't been able to hide that little gag sound that she'd made.

Everyone laughed.

He remembered standing there cocky as hell, waiting for her to finally react like a girl and cry. Instead, she calmly put the pictures back in the box, gagged louder, and returned it to her locker. She grabbed the lunch that he and all his friends spit in, hey it was her birthday after all, and walked over to him.

Instead of crying and screaming at him or even threatening to tell her daddy and her rather large brothers, she'd kneed him in the balls. When he was down on the ground she forced half her lunch down his throat while his friends fell over themselves, laughing their asses off, but it had been worth it. Even the month of detention that followed couldn't take away the joy he'd received from that little prank.

"Mr. O'Neil? Miss James? He's ready for you."

Checkmate:
Chapter 2

Rory sat in the padded chair, trying to hide her annoyance at being seated next to the bastard. She couldn't understand why Mr. McGill was handling their bids this way. She'd known a month ago when she'd placed her bid on this job that Connor was planning to place a bid. It hadn't been a big deal then, because they were in the same business and usually went after the same jobs.

Usually these things were handled more privately. She couldn't remember ever being in the room with her competition before when the client announced his decision. The only thing that she could come up with was that the client was hoping to use their well-known animosity towards each other to start a bidding war.

It wasn't going to happen. As much as she would love to get her hands on Strawberry Fields Manor, she wasn't about to get into another embarrassing public confrontation with Connor. The one they'd had last month at the Strawberry Festival still made her cringe.

Things probably wouldn't have gotten out of hand if their dates had just stayed out of it, but once Mary Lee decided to get in her face and Jeff took it as his cue to get into Connor's, things had kind of gone downhill quickly. Okay, so she may have started it when she'd dumped the bucket of mashed strawberries over Mary Lee's head, but in her defense, she could only hear '"stupid bitch" so many times before she snapped.

She still didn't understand why the festival committee banned them for a year, especially after they'd paid for all those strawberries they'd wrecked. At least she was still allowed to have a booth at next year's festival for her business, Shadow Construction. Granted, one of her brothers would have to man the table and that probably wouldn't go well, but at least her company would be represented during the town's biggest event.

Connor shifted in his chair next to hers, probably just as nervous as she was. A thought occurred to her, one that pissed her off. If he actually went along with this and tried to outbid her, she was going to pants his ass on the way out.

Her lips twitched at the memory of the last time she'd done that. Granted, it had been a week after he'd done it to her, but at least she hadn't been wearing pink boxers with hearts all over them at a bar like a certain someone that she wouldn't mention. It really had brought such joy to her and her brothers' lives as they'd watched guys hit on Connor and send drinks his way all night. She'd been sixty percent sure that he was going to kill her with his bare hands that night.

"As you both know," Mr. McGill started, bringing her attention back to him, "we've had problems getting permits and the heavy rain season has pushed our plans back by six months."

They both nodded.

"I know that you're both probably very confused as to why I've asked Shadow Construction and Highland Construction for a joint meeting." Thankfully, he didn't leave them in suspense for very long. "My partners and I would like Strawberry Fields Hotel up and running by November."

"That's five months," she blurted out before she could stop herself. Connor threw her an annoyed look, probably for stating the obvious. Not that she cared if she aggravated the bastard. She could care less about that. What she did care about was the fact that there was no way that her company could get Strawberry Fields Hotel up and running in five months. A year? Yes, and that was only after hiring ten extra men and going overboard with overtime.

Five months was not doable.

"Yes, it is," Mr. McGill agreed with a nodding in agreement. "As I'm sure that you both know, Strawberry Fields Manor needs a bit of work." Rory just barely stopped herself from snorting her disbelief out loud.

Strawberry Fields Manor was going to need a complete overhaul. The manor was going to have to be completely gutted, the long driveway was going to have to be torn up, and the landscape fixed. Those were just a few of the major things that were going to need to be worked on. She had a fifteen-page list in her office of all the small problems that needed attention and those things were going to be the one that took the most time.

"I know that this is highly unusual, but we'd like to hire both your companies to work together and finish the project," he announced with a nervous smile, shocking them both into absolute silence. She wasn't even sure that she was breathing or knew how to at that moment.

He really couldn't expect the two of them to work together. Could he? They'd kill each other! The entire town knew that. Hell, there were several betting pools over how they were going to kill each other.

This could not be happening.

As much as she would love to work on Strawberry Fields Manor she really wasn't sure-

"If you're both able to do this and meet our deadline, you will each be paid a bonus of fifty-thousand dollars on top of the twenty percent we've already decided to add to your bids," Mr. McGill announced. "As long as both of you believe that you can work on this project together without any problems," he stipulated, giving them a pointed look.

She looked at Connor only to find him staring at her. They narrowed their eyes on each other, trying to decide if that amount of money would be enough to keep them from killing each other. After several tense moments they both nodded, slowly.

For that kind of money she was more than willing to do a lot of unpleasant things, like let the life-ruining bastard live.

*-*-*-*

Grinning hugely, Connor walked into O'Malley's tavern. He really couldn't help but smile. Not only had he landed the most sought after project of the decade, but he was going to be getting a very nice bonus when he was done. He spotted five very large men sitting to the far right, glaring openly at him and was reminded of the little problem that he would have to quickly rectify.

No doubt the little tomboy thought that they were really going to work this project together. That was just sad, because really, at this stage of the game she really should know better.

This project was his and the sooner she figured that out the better off everyone would be. Sure, he'd keep her around for appearances' sake. She could fetch his lunch or something to make herself useful, but she would be staying away from his project. The use of her men was certainly a nice little bonus.

Even he had to admit that he hadn't been looking forward to hiring temporary workers. There wasn't time to sort through applicants right now and this project was definitely not something that he wanted anyone green to work on. He needed seasoned workers and he'd reluctantly admit that Rory's crew was good. His eyes darted over to the five men, who looked torn between kicking his ass and eating their appetizers.

Having the James brothers working this project was like winning the lottery. Not that he would ever admit this, but the James brothers were the best, even better than his team. They worked hard, always finished their projects on time, and their work was unquestionably the best in the area. He'd never admit any of that of course. Not when he was their main competition. His boys were good, very good, but they didn't have that extra edge that the James boys brought to the job.

What he wouldn't give to have even one of them on his crew. Hell, running his crew. Over the past five years, he'd seriously considered risking war with Rory and going after one of her brothers on more than one occasion. If he could get one, just one, he could probably lure the rest of them over to his side. His eyes moved over to the oldest brother, Craig. He was the clear leader of the group. If he came over the rest would follow.

He still couldn't figure out how they'd managed to end up working for their baby sister. Any of those men could have easily started his own company and given Connor a run for his money, but they hadn't. There was no doubt in his mind that they worked for Rory out of fear of old man James. His boys might be grown men, but he still ruled the family with an iron fist. He'd probably told the boys to help their sister and they'd jumped to do it, afraid the old man would kick their collective asses. Hell, even Connor wasn't foolish enough to turn his back on the sixty-year-old man.

Then again, if any of the James brothers decided after working on this project that they'd rather work for him, who was he to argue?

"Did we get it?" Andrew, one of his oldest friends and one of his foremen, asked as he sat down at the round tavern table in the back. The four other men stopped talking and sipping their beers to watch him expectantly.

"Oh yeah," he said, grinning, looking towards the James brothers. "Maybe even more."

*-*-*-*

"Did you know that Connor was gay?"

That question had Rory stumbling even though she'd changed into her work boots, jeans, and customary gray tee shirt. Before she went head first into the brick wall, Sean reached out and grabbed her by the arm to steady her, which was actually pretty impressive since he'd never taken his eyes off the huge plate of food in front of him.

"Thanks," she said, taking the empty seat next to Brian.

"No problem," Sean said around a huge bite of his cheeseburger.

"Well?" Bryce demanded as he pushed a still steaming mug of hot cocoa towards her while Craig gestured to Luanne, their waitress.

"Well, what?" Rory asked before taking a fortifying sip of cocoa. Not as good as hers, but still doable.

"Did you know he was gay?" Sean hissed as Luanne placed a large cheeseburger platter with extra fries, onion rings and coleslaw in front of her.

Connor O'Neil gay?

That was actually laughable. She snorted as she took another sip of cocoa and picked up her knife. Just as she'd finished cutting her burger in half, Brian reached over and took half of it. When she raised the bun of the remaining half, Johnny took her onions. Sean and Bryce took her French fries while Craig and Brian split her onion rings. When the only food left on her plate was the coleslaw and half a burger, each man in turn dumped his side salad with extra creamy French dressing on her plate.

It had taken her a few years, but she had them nicely trained, she thought with a content little sigh as she took a bite out of her burger.

"Why do you think he's gay?" she asked, spearing a delicious looking French dressing-covered cucumber slice onto her fork.

"He keeps looking over here at us," Brian said, gesturing with a nod behind him.

Sipping her cocoa, Rory leaned to the left to look between two of her very large brothers. Sometimes she felt like she had her very own entourage of linebackers. Having large muscular brothers definitely came in handy when she needed help moving or someone to open a pickle jar.

"He's doing it again," Johnny hissed, moving to the side so she could get a better look and sure enough, he was looking over at them. Actually, so were his little buddies. They were talking and gesturing towards them. No doubt the men were pissed at the news. So was she, but she was willing to suck it up as long as he stayed out of her way.

As if he'd sensed her thoughts, he turned his eyes on her and narrowed them dangerously. She narrowed her eyes on him. Everything around them disappeared as they glared at each other. Sure it was childish, but she would not look away first, damn it! Even when people walked between them neither one of them looked away.

The glaring was actually starting to make her feel dizzy, but she would not look away first! Not this time! She would-

"They're probably just gloating. It's okay, baby girl. We'll get the next one," Craig said, pulling her attention away from the glaring bastard. She looked away, but not before she caught his triumphant grin.

The bastard!

"We got it," she said, taking a quick sip of cocoa.

The men actually stopped eating to frown at her, which was pretty amazing since there was still food on the table and these were the James brothers.

"We got it?" Brian asked, looking confused.

She shrugged. "I signed the contract less than a half hour ago. It's ours."

The men looked over their shoulders and then back at her in unison. "Then why do they look like they're celebrating? I can't imagine Connor being happy about losing to you," Bryce pointed out, staring longingly at the burger left on her plate. So maybe they hadn't entirely forgotten about the food, she rectified.

"Yeah, he looks damn happy for a man that just lost a million dollar contract," Johnny said as his hand inched, almost as if it had a mind of its own, towards her burger. With an annoyed sigh, Craig slapped his hand away.

Johnny gave her a sheepish smile and a shrug. She knew that he couldn't help himself. It was something she'd understood even when they were kids. Her brothers had been able to eat their father out of house and home by the time they were six and often had. Considering that by the time they'd turned six they'd all been the size of a twelve year old, that wasn't too surprising. If it hadn't been for Craig, she probably would have starved to death. He'd kept his younger brothers in line and made sure she that she'd had enough to eat.

"Yeah, well, he kind of sort of got the contract too," she said quickly, wincing in anticipation of their reaction.

Instead of cursing and slamming the table with their fists like she'd expected, they just sat there staring at her. Finally Bryce spoke. "You're kidding, right?"

She shook her head, taking another sip of cocoa. Again, her brothers looked over their shoulders and this time the life-ruining bastard had the balls to salute them with his beer and a cocky grin.

Rory discretely flipped him off. Connor's cocky smile quickly turned to a tight frown as his eyes once again narrowed dangerously on her. Her brothers returned their attention to her, clearly wondering what she'd done. She just gave them an innocent smile as she sipped her cocoa.

"I don't understand," Sean said. "How could you both get the contract?"

Darting her eyes away, she said quietly, "We'll be working with Highland Construction on this job."

Stunned silence met her announcement. She chanced a glance up at her brothers, who were now looking at her as though she'd grown an extra head. She cleared her throat and continued.

"We each got the contract with a twenty percent markup and a nice bonus if we finish by the November deadline," she explained, watching as the information sank in.

Each of her brothers cursed vividly as they turned and shot another scowl to the man that was once again smiling smugly in their direction. Slowly, her brothers turned back to face her, glaring.

"Why didn't you tell them that we could do it without Highland Construction?" Sean demanded. This time when Johnny tried to snag her burger, Craig didn't stop him.

Great, the big babies were mad at her. Whatever. They'd get over it.

"Does it look like I want to work with him?" she asked, making them frown. "I didn't have a choice. Even if we hire extra men, we won't be able to train them in time for them to be useful. We wouldn't make the deadline. If we did this alone we'd also blow our profit margin on extra equipment. Extra equipment I might add that Highland Construction has. All we have to do is go in, work our asses off just like any other project, meet the deadline and that's it. The only downside is that it will be with the bastard, but if I can handle it, then so can you."

Her brothers looked thoughtful as they considered what she'd said. Finally with a shrug, Craig said, "Fine, as long as he leaves us alone to do our job and lets us lead we won't kick his ass."

Truce

by

R.L. Mathewson

Truce Synopsis:

Elizabeth knows what's expected of her, perfection. She's the daughter of an Earl and expected to marry well, say and do the right things with a smile on her face when inside she's dying for a chance to escape. Thanks to an inheritance her godmother left her years ago, her chance will come with her next birthday. Her hopes of escape abruptly end when Robert, her childhood nemesis that she hasn't seen in over fourteen years, comes back into her life and does everything he can to drive her out of her mind even as he steals her heart. He hated her. At least, he tried to hate her, but it was so damn difficult to hate someone that he couldn't live without. He tried to ignore her, tried to focus on anything but her, but nothing worked. Somehow she made her way into his heart and started to make him want things that he never thought possible, made him smile and laugh even while she drove him out of his mind and started a legacy by turning him into...

A Bradford.

Truce Excerpt:

"Good morning, Lady Elizabeth," he heard a footman say in greeting to the woman that hadn't left his thoughts since the moment he'd laid eyes on her in the orangery.

He paused mid-chew, wondering if he should do them both a favor and sneak out the servants' door and leave for the day, but the maid carrying in a fresh platter of eggs took the decision out of his hands.

With a putout sigh, he got to his feet and picked up two of his empty plates and headed for the sideboard. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elizabeth enter the breakfast room, come to an abrupt halt when she spotted him, take an anxious step back before a look of determination took over her features and she forced herself to walk into the room. So, she wasn't a coward, he thought with a spark of admiration, that was good to know.

Because he just couldn't help himself, he took his time loading both plates with food. He ignored the rather adorable homicidal glare that she was sending his way as she stood to the side of him, holding an empty plate as she waited for him to get the hell out of the way. When she started to tap her foot impatiently, he decided that perhaps he should add a third plate now, to save time later and to annoy the little brat. He took his time making his selections, wondering just how far he would be able to push her before she started screaming at him or threw her plate at his head, but to his surprise she didn't say a word while he made her wait.

Feeling slightly disappointed, he picked up his plates, careful not to drop a single delicious morsel, and carried them back to his place at the table. As he ate, he watched her make her selections, wondering if she was going to leave the room entirely or sit at the far end of the table to get away from him. She did neither, surprising him once again.

"Couldn't stand to be away from me?" he asked when she sat down across the table from him, because apparently he was an idiot. He should be avoiding this woman and figuring out a way to convince his mother that he needed to leave before he did something foolish like throttle the woman sitting across from him or bend her over the table, lift up the skirts of her light pink dress and relieve the ache between his legs that was now making itself known.

Instead of answering him, she simply sat there eating quietly as she pretended as though she hadn't heard him. He wasn't sure why that pissed him off, but it did. Given their history it would probably be for the best if they ignored each other, but he really wanted to get a reaction out of her. He really loved it when she reacted, he thought, remembering last night when she'd been beneath him, fingernails digging into his back as he slid in and out of her incredibly tight sheath.

With a muttered curse, he focused his attention back on his food as he shifted in his chair to try and adjust his already too tight pants. Lusting after the pain in the ass wasn't going to help him. She'd ruined his life and he'd be smart to remember that, no matter how good she'd felt in his arms.

"Good morning, Elizabeth," his brother said as he walked into the room, sounding genuinely pleased and drawing Robert's glare.

The betraying bastard, he thought, as he watched his brother walk over to Elizabeth, who was smiling up at the bastard, and press a kiss to the back of her hand.

"Good morning, James," she said, smiling and not pissing him off.

Not. At. All.

When his brother reluctantly stepped away from Elizabeth to fill a plate at the sideboard, Robert's eyes narrowed on him, taking in the well-fitted jacket and pants that fit him to perfection and then down to the borrowed clothes that he now wore and hated. They were too small, too tight and, unfortunately, too short. He looked ridiculous while his brother looked every inch the lord that he was.

All of their clothes had been ruined in the fire and the clothes that they'd worn last night had been unsalvageable. This morning he'd been faced with the choice of wearing the borrowed clothes from God only knew who or staying in his room wearing his drawers until some new clothes could be made and delivered to him. He should have stayed in his room, he realized with an annoyed grunt as he returned his attention back to his food.

"What are your plans for this morning?" James asked.

"Work," he grunted, not bothering to look up from his food as he answered the bastard.

"I was talking to Elizabeth," his brother drawled, reminding Robert that the dumb bastard was infatuated with the little pain in the ass.

Elizabeth cleared her throat before she answered. "I thought I'd go for a walk in the park since it's such a beautiful day."

"It's far too cold for a walk," his brother explained in a light chastising tone. "Why don't I take you for a ride this afternoon in my carriage instead?"

Ah, so the courting was already beginning, Robert realized with dread, his appetite suddenly gone. Somehow he forced himself to sit there and shovel another forkful of food into his mouth as he waited for her answer.

"That sounds lovely, James. Thank you," Elizabeth said politely, sounding pleased and forcing him to abruptly stand, knocking his chair to the floor in the process, and walk out of the room before he did something that he might truly regret.

About Truce.....

Dear Reader,

Thank you for buying Truce. I hope that you enjoy this book as much I have.

Before you start this book I wanted to explain a few things. The first thing, this is a historical novel, but I have written the book in a way that I'm hoping will allow someone that doesn't normally enjoy historical novels to enjoy this book. With that being said, I would also like to add that I also did my best to show this genre the respect that it deserves and did my best to make sure that readers who normally enjoy historical novels wouldn't feel slighted by this book.

Although this is a historical, I would consider it a light historical. It is not Julia Quinn level historical. I tried to make this an enjoyable, easy read that will take the reader back to the nineteenth century and watch as the Bradford saga began.

A lot of readers have written to me over the years with questions about the Bradford men, wondering about their diets, personalities, family ties, etc. It made me wonder how it could have all started and my mind snagged on the idea of a historical. This book is meant to show you just how it all started for the Bradford men.

A word of warning though, if you are expecting a fully developed Bradford right off the bat, you won't get that in this book. This book is meant to show you how everything started, including how the first real Bradford male got his start. The usual Bradford antics will be part of this book, but it will take a little time, patience and a woman driving Robert, the original Bradford, out of his mind to get there.

With that in mind, I'll let you get to the book. If you have any questions or comments, you can reach me at rlmathewson25@gmail.com

Yours truly,

R.L. Mathewson

Truce:
Prologue

Present day Massachusetts

"You're not doing it right."

He was going to strangle the son of a bitch with his bare hands, Jason decided as he ignored the bastard hovering over him. The party was in two hours and he wasn't even close to finishing Haley's present. Four months of working on this damn thing first thing in the morning and late at night and it still wasn't done.

Thank God his father had started bugging the shit out of him six months ago to get this done. At first, he'd shrugged it off, deciding that it could wait until the last minute, but then his father, uncles and a few of his cousins started to share their horror stories with him until he'd decided that perhaps it would be better to just get it over with.

Four stitches, one citation for trespassing, two second degree burns, ten migraines, one wrecked pair of jeans, two-thousand miles on his car, more than a dozen sleepless nights later and he was cursing his great-great-great-great-great grandfather to hell and back for starting this bullshit tradition in the first place. Would it really have killed the inconsiderate bastard to go out and buy his wife a necklace for their fifth anniversary instead of making one and dooming all his descendants to this bullshit tradition? He really didn't think so, especially since the man had supposedly been the brother of a very wealthy earl.

"What the hell is that supposed to be?" Trevor asked, taking a big bite out of-

"Those are my brownies, you bastard!" Jason snapped, snatching the half-eaten brownie out of his cousin's hand.

With a roll of his eyes and an annoyed sigh, Trevor reached over and plucked the brownie out of Jason's hand and shoved it in his mouth before Jason could steal his precious brownie back. Mangled necklace momentarily forgotten, he stood up and shoved his cousin out of the way so that he could make sure that the rest of his precious babies were okay. He felt his heart break as he neared the kitchen counter and saw what was left of the platter of brownies that Haley had made him for his mid-morning snack.

"How could you?" Jason asked hollowly, picking up the empty plate and praying that his cousin had missed a delicious morsel or two, but there was nothing left.

The bastard had probably licked the plate clean.

"I was bored," Trevor said with a shrug as he sat down at the kitchen table and leaned over to get a better look at the mangled necklace that Jason was desperately trying to finish in time for the party.

"If you're bored then help me," Jason said, shooting a nervous glace up at the clock and trying not to wince at the amount of time he'd lost bitching over the loss of his precious treats.

"Can't," Trevor said with a shrug.

"Why the hell not?" Jason demanded, sitting down next to Trevor and picking up the small white stone bead that he'd made out of one of the rocks he'd managed to steal from the pool at Haley's old house.

He really wished that they hadn't sold her house to that crabby old bastard. He'd taken great joy out of refusing to give Jason a few rocks from the pool area so that he could make Haley a necklace for their fifth anniversary. Actually, he really wished that he'd brought a steak with him later that night when he'd been forced to jump the fence so that he could grab a couple of rocks. Then again, the steak probably wouldn't have saved him from the psychotic little dog with the pink bow that had taken his job as guard dog a little too seriously.

"Because you have to make the necklace by yourself from start to finish," Trevor pointed out, unnecessarily since all Bradfords knew the rules for this tradition by the time they were ten years old.

"The party is in less than two hours," Jason pointed out, hoping that his cousin ignored tradition and helped him. He didn't want to disappoint his wife and he sure as hell didn't want to break a tradition that the men in his family held sacred.

"Then I suggest that you stop bitching and get threading," Trevor said with a smug smile as he gestured for Jason to get working.

"Your fifth anniversary is coming up soon, asshole, so I wouldn't get so damn cocky if I were you. You're going to need help," Jason said pointedly as he gestured to the thin silver chain.

"In three years," Trevor said in that smug tone that was starting to piss him off.

"You'll need help then," Jason bit out tightly as he arranged the tiny plastic bags in order, or at least, what he hoped was the correct order.

"Unlike you, I didn't wait until the last minute. As soon as I realized that Zoe couldn't live without me, I started to work on her necklace," Trevor explained as he leaned back, making a show of relaxing.

"Didn't you have to beg her to marry you?" Jason pointed out, simply to piss him off.

"I just let everyone think that."

"Uh huh," Jason said, switching the bag holding a small gray stone bead with the bag holding the small dark, almost black, stone bead. He'd made it from the stone he'd picked up from the bar's parking lot where he'd carried Haley that fateful night when she'd released her adorable fists of fury for the first time.

"You're still not done?" his father snorted in disgust as he walked past them on his way to the kitchen counter.

"Almost," he said, hoping that it wasn't a lie.

"Where the hell are my brownies?" his father demanded.

"Jason ate them," Trevor said quickly, making sure to sound properly appalled as the rat bastard did his best to screw him over.

"You selfish bastard!" his father hissed in outrage, making him wish that he didn't have to finish this necklace so that he could kick his cousin's lying ass.

"Haley brought ten platters to the party," Jason pointed out, hoping that his father and cousin would take the bait and get the hell out of here so that he could focus on the task at hand.

"Goddammit!" his father snapped, yanking a chair away from the table and sat down. "There won't be anything left by the time we get there," his father bit out with a pout.

With a muttered curse, Jason rolled his eyes at his father's whining even as he frantically rearranged the order of the small bags. He should have marked these rocks better.

"Party's not for two hours," Jason pointed out, not bothering to look up as he placed the handmade stone beads in what he prayed was the correct order. "If you leave right now Haley will probably let you have an entire platter to yourself to hold you over until the party starts," he murmured absently.

"Can't leave yet," his father grumbled.

"Why the hell not?" Jason demanded, chancing a look up at the clock and wincing when he realized that another ten minutes had gone by.

Shit!

"Tradition," his father and cousin said in unison, making him frown in confusion.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jason asked, shooting the clock on the microwave one last anxious glance before looking back down at the bags of rock beads.

"As your father, it's my job to tell you the story behind this tradition," his father started to say, only to shoot Trevor a wink, "it will be my job to tell you the tale as well."

"I've already heard this story," Jason said, sighing heavily as he stared down at two gray stone beads that he couldn't for the life of him remember which one was which.

"Well, you're going to hear it again, so stop your bitching!" his father snapped before he grumbled, "I'm starving," and making Jason chuckle.

"Besides," his father continued in a calmer tone, "your Uncle Ethan is telling Haley the story even as we speak."

"Tradition?" he asked with a smile as he looked up to find his father throwing the empty brownie platter a wistful glance, no doubt hoping that another batch of brownies would suddenly appear.

"Haley left a small platter of finger rolls in the fridge in case I got hungry," he said, taking pity on his father.

"Sit your ass back down!" his father snapped at Trevor when the greedy bastard shoved away from the table and took a step in the direction of the refrigerator.

"I'm starving!" Trevor bitched, but he did sit down.

"Too goddamn bad! I need sustenance if I'm going to tell this story," his father said, sounding irritated as he stormed over to the refrigerator, grabbed the platter of sandwich rolls, leftover cherry pie and the gallon of chocolate milk.

"That's the kids' milk," Jason pointed out, returning his attention back to making the necklace.

He heard his father grumble something as he shut the refrigerator door. When Jason looked up a few seconds later, he wasn't surprised to see that his father had returned the milk and grabbed the gallon of ice tea instead. His father might be obsessed with food, but he would never willingly take food away from his grandchildren. No Bradford male would. Their children and wives came first and they made damn sure that they were well provided for.

"Those look good," Trevor said, gesturing to the platter of sandwich rolls. "Can I have one of the-"

"No!" his father bit out, glaring as he shifted the large platter away from Trevor.

"I'm starving!" Trevor whined.

"Then starve!"

"You selfish bastard!"

"Can we get on with it?" Jason asked, off cutting his father, who looked seconds away from taking Trevor to the ground in a chokehold.

"Fine," his father said, throwing Trevor one last glare before he picked up a tuna salad roll and returned his attention to Jason. Clearing his throat, his father shifted in his seat before he started.

"Once upon a time..."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jason asked, shaking his head in disgust.

"What?" Jared demanded, taking a bite from his sandwich roll.

"You're really going to start it like that?" Jason demanded, sharing a look of disgust with Trevor, who was inching his hand toward the platter of sandwich rolls.

His father narrowed his eyes on him. "If I want to start this story off with 'Once upon a time,' then that's how I'm going to damn well tell the story!"

Jason rubbed his hands down his face. He really didn't have time for this shit. "Fine, tell your damn story," he said, focusing his attention back on the necklace.

"I will," his father said with a sniff followed by the sound of a hand being slapped.

"Ow!"

"Those are my sandwich rolls!"

"Dad," Jason said, not bothering to look up as he prompted his father to get on with it.

"Oh, right," his father said, pointedly clearing his throat. "Once upon a time......."

Truce
Chapter 1

1809

London, England

Hyde Park....a little after 4 pm.

There he was, her prince, Elizabeth mused, sighing happily as she watched the man that she was going to marry. She smiled wistfully and moved around to the other side of the tree to get a better look at James, her James, before her governess could find her and drag her away.

Even though his family's London townhouse was close to theirs, she hadn't seen him since they'd arrived a week ago. Their townhouses weren't as close as their country estates were, but James rarely ever visited his family there. The only time she had the chance to see him anymore was when they came to London for the season and even then she hardly ever got the chance to see him as much as she would have liked. He was a very busy man about town after all. Knowing that it would probably be some time before she saw him again, she had to take another look at James and make it last.

Could any man be more perfect? No, she didn't think so. Only James, only her James was absolutely perfect. She bit her lip and watched as he bowed over her mother's hand. He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her hand before releasing it. Elizabeth sighed happily when he stood back up, mostly because it granted her a better opportunity to stare at him. He wore a stunning black suit with a crisp white shirt. His brown hair was cut short today, but she could still make out the small curls that she loved.

He was, in a word, marvelous.

At twenty-four years old, he was beyond perfect. He was handsome, educated, wealthy, smart, funny, and lovely. Everyone thought so. Men wanted to be him and women wanted to marry him. That last thought made her face squish up. No, Mama said that he was much too young to marry. She'd said that most men of his station wouldn't marry until they were older and more established, whatever that meant. All she knew was that he was here and he was perfect. With that thought in mind, she released another dreamy sigh.

"Boo!" someone suddenly yelled just as she was shoved forward, making her jump and scream in terror. Heart pounding in her little chest, she turned around to see what kind of monster had descended from the tree to attack her.

"You!" she mouthed the word perfectly, giving the little tyrant in front of her the coldest, haughtiest glare that she could muster. Thankfully, she had two older sisters who'd taught her well.

The boy was momentarily dazed speechless by her reaction before he bent over with uncontrollable laughter. "Oh.....you....should.....see.....your....face!" he said through loud, rather annoying bouts of laughter.

Elizabeth ran her small hands over her pink gown and looked down her nose at him. Well, she tried to at least. It was rather difficult to look down her nose at someone taller than her.

"You, Robert Bradford, are a beastly boy!" she said loudly, perhaps a little too loudly if the laughter erupting around them was any indication.

Robert's face turned an interesting shade of red as Elizabeth narrowed her eyes on her nemesis and studied his face, hoping to find some proof that this boy was an imposter. It was simply impossible that such a crude, distasteful little boy could be related to her James. This boy had darker, almost black, hair, green eyes instead of James' brown eyes and wasn't in the least bit good looking. The boy was rather homely looking. Even her mother had said so, so it had to be true.

"And you smell like the backside of a mule!" Robert shot back loud enough for everyone walking past them to hear.

Elizabeth felt her face flush hotly. She looked back in time to catch her sisters trying to hide their smiles from their overbearing mother. Their mother threw them a look of warning before turning her attention back to Elizabeth. The glare that she sent Elizabeth was a clear warning to behave and not to make a scene.

The other children around them stopped playing to watch as they giggled and pointed at Elizabeth and Robert. Lady Bradford looked horrified at her son's behavior or Elizabeth's, she wasn't exactly sure and she didn't care, because at this very moment James was laughing.

At her!

She turned away before he could see the tears streaming down her face.

"Are you crying?" Robert demanded, sounding horrified.

"Leave me alone."

She tried to push past him, but being only seven years old it was rather difficult to push past a towering twelve-year-old boy who'd planted himself firmly in her path.

"I know you fancy my brother. He laughs about it, you know. We all do," Robert said proudly.

She gasped loudly.

He knew?

He laughed?

Oh no, this was bad. This was very bad. Had she been that obvious? Her family had never said anything. They'd smiled at her when they knew they were going to see the Bradfords, but that was only because they liked the Bradfords, wasn't it?

Oh no, everyone knew, she realized with something close to panic. She had to get out of here, fast. She made another attempt to step around Robert only to have him move quickly to block her. "What's the rush? Running off to plan the wedding?" he asked mockingly.

Slowly, Elizabeth turned around to see her parents, sisters, Lord and Lady Bradford, and James walking towards them. She wanted to cry all over again when she saw that her sister Heather was hanging on James' arm. She was eighteen and this was her first season. She was plain, boring and annoying, but at least she got to touch him. Elizabeth felt her little heart break.

"You know that you're the ugliest sister, don't you? And you're fat, too!" Robert added. He looked around, beaming at the chuckles the other boys were sending his way and clearly enjoying himself at her expense.

Elizabeth had baby fat, but she would grow out of it. Her governess and father had promised her that it was just a phase. She caught one of the boys making rude gestures with his hands, indicating a fat stomach before he pointed at her for his friends.

"Stop it!" she cried.

That only made them laugh louder and Robert grin hugely. She looked back, hoping Mary would come to her aide. Her sister was no longer smiling. She cared about Elizabeth, she truly did. Unfortunately, Mary was still a good ten yards away. Elizabeth could tell that her sister was upset, but she knew that Mary couldn't rush over and help her. Married woman or not, their mother would be devastated if any of them did anything improper that would bring the family embarrassment, especially since it was Heather's first season.

They didn't seem to be coming to her aide quickly at all. In fact, they appeared as though they were taking a relaxing stroll through the park. They actually stopped to talk to Lady Newman. Lady Newman! She was the biggest gossip of the ton! Her annoying daughter Penelope was with her. She was just as mean as her mother. She was also glaring down her too thin nose at Elizabeth.

"Come on, Beth, what's the matter? Don't you want to go over there give your betrothed a big fat kiss?"

"Enough, Robert," James said, chuckling.

Elizabeth couldn't look back. No, she wouldn't do it. He was laughing at her, again. Her sweet, understanding James, who'd kissed her scraped elbow when she was five, was laughing at her.

That was it. She didn't care if all the children of the ton laughed at her and made fun of her. She didn't care if she was the fattest, ugliest girl in the world. She would not be forced to stand here and listen as James laughed at her.

This was all Robert's fault.

At that moment, she decided to do something that her parents had specifically forbid her ever to do. In fact, after it was done she knew that her father would spank her soundly, but it would be worth it. Somehow she forced herself to stop crying and smiled sweetly up at Robert as she prepared herself for a month without pudding and a sore bottom.

*-*-*-*

His smile faltered as he looked down at her. Her pudgy little cheeks were pushed up by a smile that was rather unsettling. She looked....dangerous. He licked his lips nervously, wondering what was she up to.

"Robert, I don't understand why you're being so silly right now. You know how dangerous that can be," she said, a little too loudly for his liking. All the children watching them stepped closer, eager to see how this was going to end. Some of the adults also seemed quite amused with the afternoon's entertainment, but not him. He suddenly felt the overpowering need to get away from the little brat.

Robert tried to take a step back and get away from her, but Elizabeth took a step closer, refusing to grant his escape. She suddenly looked oddly dangerous in that light pink dress. Looking thoughtful, she tapped a finger to her chin. "If I recall correctly you've been told to be careful when you laugh, get too excited, nervous..." she started to explain.

Robert knew where she was going with this. The little witch was about to break the promise that her parents had made to his. "Shut up!" he screamed as desperation and fear coiled in the pit of his stomach.

She continued as if she hadn't heard him. "When you're anxious or upset, because...." this is where she leaned in conspiratorially, but she didn't whisper.

Oh no, she didn't whisper it at all, she yelled, "You will wet your pants, again! You know we still can't get the smell out of the parlor rug, but then again, it was only last week that you wet your pants when my puppy jumped on you! In fact, I don't know what was worse, your crying or the smell!"

Loud hoots of laughter seemed to fill the park as he stood there, momentarily frozen in shock as the realization that his deepest, darkest secret was out hit him.

"Robert Lemonade!" she said in a singsong voice, further taunting him and making him hate her more than even he thought possible.

The boys were all pointing and laughing at him. Robert felt his lower lip tremble. These boys attended school with him. This wasn't happening, couldn't be happening. This was bad, very bad and even as he hoped beyond hope that this was a dream, he knew that it wasn't. He also knew that his life was going to become intolerable now. Suddenly every boy around them pointed towards his pants and laughed louder. Many of them stumbled and fell to the ground, unable to curb their amusement.

Robert hadn't been aware of the hot liquid running down his legs until that moment. He looked down, praying that it was just his imagination, but it wasn't. His brown trousers were soaked thoroughly around his crotch.

"Robert Lemonade!" the children chorused. "Robert Lemonade!"

He turned to glare at Elizabeth, who wore a pleased little smile on her face. This was her fault! He shoved her soundly. She stumbled back, but didn't fall. Her eyebrows came together and she stepped up to him, looking determined. Robert was prepared to shove her again or pull her hair when he saw her small fist sail through the air towards him.

He stumbled backwards, tripped over a root and landed on his backside. New laughter erupted around them. Not only was he crying and had wet his pants, but now a seven-year-old chubby girl had knocked him down in front of everyone!

"Better make sure to bring your nanny with you next semester, Robert Lemonade!" a boy yelled.

"Yeah, don't want any unseemly yellow stains on the mattress!"

"I'd hate to be his roommate. Can you imagine smelling vinegar all year?" the boys yelled, taunted and teased.

Robert dragged himself to his feet and glared at Elizabeth Stanton. One day....one day he would get her back for this. He would have his revenge.

In front of everyone she turned her back on him just in time for her father to discreetly grab her and haul her off.

Robert stood there, his hands curled up into fists, ignoring his family's concerns, the laughter and jeers and focused on the receding image of Elizabeth as she left the park. One day soon.....

Truce:
Chapter 2

1824

"This is for your own good, Elizabeth!"

"You said that last year," she pointed out, not bothering to raise her voice or even look up from her book as she turned the page and settled back against the chair, trying to get comfortable.

"And it would have been if you'd accepted a proposal!" her father stubbornly argued. He continued trying to pry the library door open so that he could drag her off to London where she'd be forced to attend balls and dinners night after night all while her parents shoved every single man with a title to his name in her direction.

She didn't wish to marry for a title, but they refused to listen to her so now she was forced to take matters into her own hands and barricade herself in the library. It wouldn't stop them from dragging her off to London, nothing would, but at least it might buy her a little more time to relax before she was forced to endure the hustle and bustle of London. It would also probably get her father to-

"Fine," he said, sounding out of breath, "let's discuss the matter."

Biting back a triumphant smile, she placed her book down, smoothed down her skirts and walked over to the door, but she didn't open it. She wasn't foolish after all. There was no doubt in her mind that her father now had at least two footmen standing with him on the other side of that door waiting to grab her and drag her off.

"I'm listening," she said, leaning back against the wall as she waited to see what he was willing to offer in compensation if she willingly went through with another season.

There was a slight pause before he asked, "Aren't you going to open the door?"

And make the same mistake that her two older sisters had made when they'd been forced to take the same action? No, she really didn't think that would be wise. Besides, unlike her sisters, she couldn't be bought and he knew it. She didn't care about dresses, silks, shoes, ribbons, jewelry, shopping or any number of things that the other females in her family loved and her father used against them when the need arose.

Not that she didn't appreciate pretty things, she did. She just didn't care enough about them to cave to her father's demands or justify spending a small fortune on them. Most people considered her to be odd and perhaps she was, but she truly didn't care.

"I'll get this door opened eventually," he said, sounding hopeful that it would be enough to scare her into unlocking the door and going to her doom quietly.

It wasn't.

"And then I'll just find another way to avoid going," she said, smiling when he let out the annoyed growl that usually worked on her sisters.

"What do you want?" he asked warily, no doubt expecting her to ask for something outrageous.

He knew her so well, she thought with a smile.

"I want my independence," she said, not terribly surprised when he let out another one of those vicious growls.

"This again? Really?" he demanded in exasperation.

"It's what I want," she said, wondering just how early she'd be able to talk him into letting her go to her north estate.

Technically, she was supposed to wait until her twenty-fourth birthday to accept control of her inheritance, but since her money and property was supposed to be under his care, he could allow her to go whenever he wanted. Unfortunately, he wasn't anxious to allow his youngest daughter to move away and live unsupervised, which was the reason why he was trying to drag her off to London.

He was desperate to see her married and her inheritance in the hands of a capable man. Actually, at this point he would probably be happy to see her inheritance in the hands of any man that would have her. Right now he controlled her life and, in his mind, kept her safe, but that would all change in just a few short months and she couldn't wait.

"I want you to have one last season before you do something foolish," he bit out.

"And I don't want to have to stay for the entire season."

A long-suffering sigh reached her ears and she knew that she'd just won......sort of.

"I expect your full cooperation. You will attend every single ball, dinner and musical that your mother can garner an invitation for. You will allow men to court you, but you will favor the men that we approve of with your time. You will not sabotage this in any way and in return, I will accompany you to your north estate two months early," he said and she knew that it was probably the best offer that she was going to get, but still......

"Three months early," she said, hoping that he'd accept her counteroffer.

"I'm not that much of a pushover, my dear," he said with a snort of amusement.

He really was, but she decided that right now was not the time to point that out to him. It probably also wasn't the time to point out that he'd just agreed to let her leave when the season officially started, she decided as she unlocked the door and prepared herself for two months of pre-season hell.

*-*-*-*

2 Weeks Later.....

London, England

"Really, Elizabeth!"

Elizabeth ignored her mother as she smiled down at the young man shifting nervously in front of her. Young man might not be a fitting description for a ten-year-old boy, but he was certainly acting like one.

"I c-can carry your bags, m'lady," the little boy said as he pushed his too-long hair back with dirty fingers.

Elizabeth leaned down to look the little boy in the eye. "That's a very important job. Do you think you're up to it?"

The boy nodded enthusiastically as he tried his best to bite back a smile.

"Hmm, I have a very busy day today. I'm going to need someone to wait outside the shops for me and to bring my packages to my coach. That's a hard job and it may take a few hours. Do you think that you can handle such a big job?" she asked in a serious tone, biting back her own smile.

"I can do it! Honest, I can!"

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Really, Elizabeth! This is beyond the pale!" her mother said in a huff. "Do hurry up with this nonsense. We have too much to do today to waste time on the likes of him."

She waited until her mother left, noting the little boy's crestfallen expression. "Your name?" Elizabeth asked softly.

"Toby, m'lady," he said, looking down at the ground and sounding miserable.

"Well, if you still want the job I need a good man to help me today. Now, as you can see my first stop is here at this shop to make sure that my gown fits just right. If you could be available in an hour, I would truly appreciate that, Toby."

Looking confused, he nodded slowly. "What do I do 'til then, m'lady?"

She pulled out five shillings and handed them to the boy. His face lit up. "M'lady, that's too much for carrying packages!"

"Hush, I want you to take that and go get yourself something to eat and stay warm." She gestured to the two small boys trying to hide behind a carriage. "I suspect that your brothers could use something to eat as well."

Toby looked back at the boys. His face flushed with embarrassment. "They're not my brothers, m'lady. They belong to the family I am staying with."

"Just be back in an hour and make sure you eat something healthy. Save the sweets for later," she said, shoeing him away with a smile.

Toby nodded and took off running. Elizabeth watched as Toby gathered the boys, who couldn't be older than four and five years old. It broke her heart to see children on the street.

She thanked the footman holding the door open for her and walked inside the shop, not surprised to find her mother and sister frowning at her.

"Really, Elizabeth, Papa does not give you an allowance to waste on the likes of them. He gives his alms every month. This is insulting him to say the least," Heather said haughtily, adding an indignant sniff as she tried to look down her pudgy nose at Elizabeth, but she didn't care.

"Don't bother asking your father for more money. If you choose to waste your allowance, then that's your problem," her mother added.

"I never do," she said softly as she prepared herself for the torture that she'd have to endure over the next hour.

Her family didn't understand why she used her allowance to help the less fortunate instead of on new trinkets, ribbons and such. Well, that wasn't true. Mary understood perfectly. She was the one who'd taught Elizabeth compassion. Just thinking about Mary made her smile. She was going to see her tonight.

Her parents were dragging her to every ball, dinner and social occasion they could find as per their agreement. They were acting a bit desperate even though she was currently being courted by several men. It wasn't hard to guess why. She'd turned down fifty-five proposals in the last five years and her parents were becoming worried that they would have another spinster on their hands.

It wasn't that she didn't want to marry. She just didn't want to marry for anything less than love. Mary had found love and she was determined to as well. There was one thing that she was sure of, she wasn't going to find love at one of the ton's parties with the same old dreary lot that she'd grown up with. She knew that she wasn't going to find love in some dusty old ballroom or among the group she'd known all her life. When she found love, it would be somewhere unexpected, she knew that much at least.

"Now come along. We have a lot to do today. We need to be back before five so that we can be ready on time. I want to arrive in time for you to dance the first waltz."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at that comment. Why was her mother suddenly worried about her missing the first waltz? She usually liked to arrive late, everywhere. According to her mother, it made for a better entrance and left Elizabeth's suitors nervous, which was the way a suitor should act. Her mother expected her suitors to pine over her and to be in despair if she didn't arrive on time. Something was going on and she was afraid that she was going to find out too late to do anything about it.

An hour later, Elizabeth and her maid carried several large parcels out of the shop. She stopped in front of the store and looked around. Toby was nowhere to be found.

"I told you, Elizabeth. You're far too trusting," Heather said with a sniff as she walked past her. She walked arm in arm with their mother towards their next destination while a footman carried their large pile of parcels to the carriage.

"I was sure he would remain, m'lady," her maid said with a smirk that said otherwise.

"I was too," she said, sighing heavily as she held the parcels higher. "No use fussing over it. What's done is done."

In truth, she didn't mind one bit. If he'd returned, she would have found a way to give him more money without insulting his pride, but if he needed to leave then that was fine. She had no doubt the boy would use the money to fill his tummy and that was all she cared about.

"M'lady!" a small boy yelled, sounding anxious and out of breath.

Elizabeth looked over her shoulder to see Toby running towards her. His brown hair was windblown and his pale grey eyes were as round as saucers. "I'm so sorry, m'lady!"

She nodded and handed her packages over to the boy. "That's fine. You're here now," she said, smiling down at the boy, pleased that he'd returned.

"I was so worried you'd find another lad. I swear that I tried to get back sooner, m'lady."

"What took you so long?" her maid rudely asked.

Elizabeth threw her a look of warning. That seemed to work, but unfortunately not before Toby's hopeful expression turned worried.

"I'm sorry. Timmy isn't used to a full stomach so I had to see him home," he explained in a rush.

"That's fine, Toby. I quite understand. Shall we be off?" Elizabeth asked with a smile, hoping to change the subject so that Toby would stop worrying about being replaced.

He nodded. "Which one is your carriage, m'lady?"

She gestured to the black carriage across the busy street that bore her family's seal. With a nod, Toby took off running across the street and nearly gave Elizabeth heart failure when he narrowly missed getting struck by a passing carriage. He quickly handed the packages over to the coachman, ran back to take her maid's packages and delivered them to the carriage. When he was done, he returned to Elizabeth's side and walked with her to the next shop.

For the next three hours Toby was at her beck and call. He never complained about the number of packages or the length of the wait. When they were done for the day Elizabeth turned her back on her mother while they climbed into the carriage. Toby stood in front of her, shifting nervously.

"I'm sorry I was late," he said softly.

She gave him a reassuring smile. "It's okay. Do you know where Belford Manor is?"

He stood straight and nodded. "Well, if you can find Belford Manor tonight, go around the back to the kitchen and tell them Lady Elizabeth sent you. They shall have some very delicious treats for you," she promised him, hoping the kitchen staff would do more than just give the boy some treats.

"Really?"

"Yes," she smiled, "and I suspect if you were to offer some help, you'd earn some food to take home to your friends."

"I will! I'll work real hard!" he said excitedly.

She reached into her reticule and pulled out a pound note. She handed it to the boy. "This is for doing such a fine job, Toby. Next time I'm shopping I shall ask for you by name."

His fingers shook as he reached out for the note. He looked as if he thought this might be some cruel joke. "Go on, take it," she encouraged him. He did, slowly.

"Thank you, m'lady," he said, looking up at her. Elizabeth had to bite her lip to stop herself from crying. Toby smiled shyly at her as though she were an angel.

"Go on now. Take care of yourself, Toby, and make sure to come by for some food."

He nodded firmly. "I will, m'lady."

He watched as she climbed into her carriage with the help of her coachman. Once he'd made sure that she was safely inside, he quickly hid the note in his shoe and walked away, smiling.
The Game Plan

by

R.L. Mathewson

Synopsis:

Spend the next 40 years in prison or break her lease early? Normally she'd be able to say that this one was a no-brainer, but things have definitely changed since she was forced to move in across the hall from Danny Bradford. A lot of things...... She wanted to get through one day, just ONE day without Danny Bradford doing something to test the limits to her control, but with that damn smile of his and his habit of leaving her contemplating manslaughter, she didn't see that happening anytime soon. He loved his family, but some days....... It was too much, but that was okay, because his small neighbor living across the hallway provided him with endless hours of entertainment. Not on purpose of course, but did it really matter as long she made him smile?

The Game Plan Excerpt:

"I'm going to say this as nicely as I possibly can," Tinkerbelle said as he caught a whiff of a vile odor that was vaguely familiar. "If you even think about calling me Tinkerbelle or say anything even remotely annoying right now I will kill you!"

"I see," he murmured absently as he took in the scene and in less than thirty seconds he realized that his cousin had seriously fucked up.

Bradfords didn't normally throw away food. It just wasn't in their DNA to waste food even if it was past its expiration date and growing penicillin. They simply scraped the fungus off, covered it in ketchup and savored it. They didn't believe in wasting food, none of them did, but since Trevor had fallen in love with Zoe and married her......

Well, they'd made an exception to that rule since none of them had the balls to tell Zoe that her cooking sucked, especially the bastard that married her. Most nights Trevor was able to force himself to eat what his wife cooked, but some nights like the other night, the man couldn't force himself to do the impossible. When those nights came, Trevor took the coward's way out and found a way to throw the leftovers out without Zoe finding out.

Since he couldn't throw the food away at his house and take the chance of his wife finding out, Trevor usually brought the waste to one of his apartment houses and dumped it in one of their cousin's trashcans, which was no doubt why Trevor had been here today. The only problem it seemed was that Trevor had royally fucked up tonight and placed the trash bags filled with toxic waste in Tinkerbelle's barrels.

The weird, oddly discolored slime covered her from head to toe, the ground that she was struggling to get off, her trash barrels and the trash that had spilled out from the bag. He'd seen a lot of things in the Marines, but this was easily the grossest fucking thing that he'd ever come across. It was also probably one of the most embarrassing moments for little Tinkerbelle, he realized with a reluctant sigh as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone.

"What are you doing?" Tinkerbelle nervously demanded as she suddenly stopped trying to find a way to get out of the slimy mess so that she could watch his every move.

"My duty," he explained with a heavy sigh as he opened the camera app and did what was expected of him.

"You son of a bitch!" Tinkerbelle screamed as she lunged for him, slipped and landed right smack dab in a large puddle of goo.

"Say it with a smile," he said, chuckling when she looked up. Well, tried to at least, but with all that goo weighing her hair down in front of her face it was kind of difficult.

"Put the camera away, Danny!" she demanded, struggling to get to her feet only to once again slip in the goo, landing smack dab in the middle of it and forcing him to jump back to avoid the goop that was sent flying into the air with her fall.

"It's not a camera," he felt obligated to point out as he angled the phone to the side so that he could catch the goo smeared glare that she was sending him. "It's a---son of a bitch!" he shouted as a big handful of chalk white slime sailed through the air and nailed him in the shoulder.

"Put the phone away," Tinkerbelle said, swiping up another handful of that slime that he was going to kill his cousin for.

Any other man would have accepted defeat, put the camera away and made a quick retreat, but he was a Bradford as well as a Marine, which meant that he was going to aggravate the shit out of her for the sheer pleasure of it. Chuckling, he ducked out of the way as the goop sailed through the air, snapped a dozen more shots, not really caring if they were good shots or not. The only thing that he cared about right now was pissing Tinkerbelle off.

"Damn it!" she snapped as she once again slipped in the goo, this time landing on her pretty little ass, causing the glob of goo in her hand to slide down her arm, adding an extra layer of slime to her skin and clothes that was going to be a bitch to clean off. When she let out a defeated groan, he couldn't help but feel bad for her.

With a sigh, because he knew that he was going to miss out on some really good photo opportunities, he put his phone in his back pocket. "Do you want some help?"

"Not from you," she bit out as she tried to wipe her hands off on her pants, but by this point it was hopeless. She was covered from head to toe in the nasty goop.

"Oh, and why's that?" he asked, glancing at the garden hose and wondering if he should hose down this mess before the smell seeped inside the apartment house.

"Because I really just don't like you," she admitted as she slowly got on her knees to give standing another try.

"Now, you know that you really don't mean that," he said, knowing damn well that she did.

"Yeah, I really do," she said, finally managing to get to her feet.

"Are you planning on tracking that shit into the building?" he asked, gesturing to the white slime that was slowly traveling down her body, applying another, more even, coat over her body.

"I'll wash it off," she said defensively.

"How?"

Her frown said it all. She had no idea how she was going to get that shit off and to be honest, he really wasn't sure that water was going to do the job. At least cold water wouldn't be able to get it off, he mused with a frown of his own when he felt a slight burning sensation on his shoulder right where the goop-

The Game Plan:
Chapter 1

"I love my wife."

"Yes, but-" Jodi started to say only to get cut off once again before she could explain why she desperately needed to be released from her lease.

"I love my wife," Trevor Bradford, her landlord and a man that she suspected was as close to committing murder as she was, stressed for what had to be the hundredth time since he'd arrived at her apartment five minutes ago.

Jodi released an exasperated sigh as she shifted in her seat and tried to think of another way to explain to the large, and basically decent, man that if he didn't let her out of her lease ten months early that she was very much afraid that she would end up killing his cousin with her bare hands. Since she was pretty sure that a full confession would only come back and bite her in the ass later, she decided to go with a more subtle route to get out of her lease.

"I need to be released from my lease, because your cousin is an asshole and he's making my life a living hell," she explained in a calm and efficient manner, neglecting to mention that she'd already thought of twenty-nine different ways to kill the large, and annoying, bastard.

For a moment, Trevor didn't say anything as he studied her from across the small eighteenth century country kitchen table that she'd inherited from her Great-Grandmother Rose. His eyes narrowed on her in an assessing manner as she did the same to him, refusing to be intimidated. When it became obvious that intimidation wasn't going to work, he tried another tactic.

"Which cousin?" he asked, feigning ignorance as he leaned back in his chair. Jodi just barely bit back a wince when the chair creaked in protest at having to support such a large man. If she had to guess, she'd have to say the man weighed well over two hundred pounds and every last ounce of him was pure muscle. She really wasn't sure how much more abuse her poor chair could take before it finally cracked under pressure.

It would probably depress her for a day or two to lose such a treasured item, especially since she couldn't afford to replace it, even with a cheap knockoff from Wal-Mart on her new salary. Then again, if it meant getting out of the lease from hell and away from the most annoying man on earth then she would just have to suck it up and deal with the loss, she decided.

"You know which one," she bit out, knowing that he knew damn well which one of his cousins was driving her to the point of no return.

"There are five of them renting apartments here," he pointed out, not sounding happy about that fact, but not willing to make this easy on her. "I'm afraid that you'll have to be a little more specific."

Granted, all of his cousins that rented here seemed to be arrogant bastards, but only one of them was a complete asshole. The rest of his cousins amused her and yes, they could annoy the hell out of her, but not to the point where she was contemplating murder. That reaction was reserved solely for one man and one man alone.

Danny Bradford.

It was actually kind of funny, because before she'd moved here, she'd thought of herself as a pacifist. Just the thought of a puppy whimpering, or accidentally hurting anyone's feelings would have had her hitting a pint of Ben and Jerry's and sobbing hysterically over a Lifetime movie. Before Danny Bradford she'd never gotten truly good and mad. She'd never even held a grudge before she'd met him. She usually let things go pretty quickly and didn't waste her time on nonsense, but that all changed the day that she moved in and met the bastard living across the hall.

Then again, a lot of things had changed in her life over the last few months, and some of those things might be influencing her reaction to Danny Bradford. But, she was pretty sure that even if she hadn't been dumped the night before her wedding, lost her job at the museum, been forced to take a job as the town librarian, and humiliated in every way imaginable by her ex, that she would still be developing an all-consuming hatred for the man living across the hall from her.

He was arrogant, cocky, a jerk, too good looking for his own good, a jerk, an asshole, really annoying and did she mention that he was a jerk? It seemed as though he lived to screw with her. It was bad enough that she had to deal with all the crap that he put her through, but that damn cocky smile of his that he wore while he did it just pissed her off in too many ways to actually count. She hated that smile, probably not as much as she hated the man, but it was a close second.

"Danny," she bit out, glaring at the man as she silently dared him to continue sitting there pretending that he didn't know that his cousin had been having a heck of a time making her life a living hell. He knew, oh, he knew. A week didn't go by that she wasn't forced to call him and explain as calmly as possible that if his cousin kept up his bullshit that she would be forced to kick him in the balls to wipe that cocky smile off his face.

Normally when she was forced to make those calls, which made her feel like a tattling child, Trevor would listen for all of ten seconds, sigh heavily and hand the phone over to Zoe, his wife and the unofficial manager of all the rental properties that they owned. Trevor usually only got involved as a last resort or if his wife was too exhausted from taking care of the couple's children to muster up the energy to deal with tenants. Actually, she preferred to deal with Zoe, because she would listen, sympathize, and after Jodi finished getting it off her chest, the short plump woman would give her a hug, tell her to hang in there, walk across the hall and slap Danny upside his head.

Then with a satisfied sigh, Zoe would smile and go, leaving her to deal with Danny, that damn cocky grin of his, and the knowledge that she'd somehow just set down a challenge for him. Every time Zoe paid him a visit, he always upped his game to drive her insane.

Like last week when she'd been forced to complain about Danny getting her placed on another restaurant's delivery banned list. Zoe had come right over, this time not bothering to see her first before she knocked on Danny's door. When Danny opened the door while eating her hot wings, she'd like to point out, Zoe sighed, reached up and slapped Danny upside his head.

Instead of getting pissed like she would probably be if someone kept slapping her upside the head, Danny had simply shrugged it off and picked up another hot wing. Just as he was about to take a bite, Zoe snatched the wing and the takeout box out of his hands, scowled up at him for all of ten seconds, turned around and stormed off.

That's when Danny finally reacted.

It was also the moment that she'd really wished she hadn't chosen to come out of her apartment to check the mail. Before she could move to make an escape, Danny glared accusingly at her as though she'd been the one who'd stolen his, well, technically they were hers since she'd ordered them, hot wings.

He hadn't said a word as he closed his door. He didn't need to say anything, because that glare had said it all. She'd spent that night tossing and turning in bed, torn between apologizing to save herself from his bullshit, shrugging it off while trying to tell herself that there was nothing to worry about, and getting good and mad at herself for obsessing over something so stupid. When the alarm clock forced her to drag her butt out of bed the next morning she'd wanted to kick his ass as well as her own for wasting the entire night lying awake worrying instead of sleeping.

Thirty minutes, a lukewarm shower, and three cups of burnt coffee later, she'd still been kicking herself for her own stupidity as she'd left her apartment and mentally prepared herself for the next ten hours of dealing with meetings, committees, story time with the kids, craft hour and a book vendor event. All thoughts of the hectic day that awaited her slowly evaporated from her thoughts when she'd caught sight of the five-foot high cinderblock wall that surrounded her parking space where her car had been parked the night before.

It was at that point that she realized that she needed to either move or find a good defense attorney. Sadly, with the current state of her finances a good defense attorney was out of the question and so was moving, she'd realized. She couldn't afford to break her lease early and she didn't have enough money to cover the first and last month's rent for a new apartment.

Since she didn't have many options available to her at the moment, she decided to try and talk her way out of her lease. Actually, she'd been hoping to have this conversation with Zoe, because she was pretty easy going and probably would have let her out of her lease without a fight. If Trevor hadn't overheard their phone conversation an hour ago, she was pretty sure that she'd already be looking at other apartments.

Unfortunately for her, he did overhear it.

He scrubbed his hands down his face as he muttered, "I'm going to kill that fucking bastard."

"If you do that I'd be willing to stay," she pointed out helpfully.

He chuckled as he leaned back in his chair and she did her best not to cringe when the chair creaked in protest, again. "I like you, Jodi. You're never late with the rent. You keep your apartment clean and you don't cause trouble, but I can't let you out of your lease."

"Why?" she asked, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Because if you move out, my wife will just move another one of my asshole cousins in here," he said with a heavy sigh.

"Well, they couldn't be any worse than Danny. So-"

"Believe me, they are," he said, cutting her off as he sat up, causing the chair to creak ominously with the movement. "What if I reduced your rent by a hundred bucks a month?"

"To stay?" she asked, tempted to say yes and give in.

She didn't have much money in the bank and even though she actually did make a decent salary, she didn't have much money at the end of the month once the bills were paid. Fifteen thousand dollars in debt had been her ex-fiancé's parting gift for her, one that she couldn't seem to return, and she desperately wanted to return that lovely gift. She'd been foolish when she'd agreed to open a credit card account in her name for him, and even more foolish for giving him access to her bank account, which he'd drained, legally according to the police department, mere hours before he broke the news publically to her that he couldn't force himself to marry her.

"Two hundred?" he offered, sounding a little desperate.

"Wouldn't it be cheaper just to let me out of my lease?" she asked, struggling with the urge to say yes and make things a little less financially tight for a while even if it meant putting up with Danny Bradford for ten more months.

"Three hundred bucks," he said, not asked, she noted.

"Three hundred dollars?" she repeated, sure that she'd misheard him.

"Deal," Trevor said with a firm nod as he stood up and headed for the door, leaving her sitting there struggling to figure out what just happened.

"Wait, what deal?" she asked, scrambling to get out of the chair and rush to the door and block it before he could make his escape, but sadly, her short legs just couldn't manage it.

Trevor had the door open and was halfway down the hallway before she managed to catch up with him, well, get within ten feet of him anyway. "Wait!" she said, hoping that he'd stop long enough so that she could figure out what just happened.

With a sheepish smile, he did, but her relief was short lived as he walked towards her and then kept walking. Before she could ask him what he was doing, he was pounding on Danny's door. Seconds later, and unfortunately before she could make it back to her apartment, Danny, wearing only jeans and looking fresh out of the shower with damp hair, a towel around his shoulders and his large muscles glistening beneath the hallway light, opened the door.

Having a really bad feeling about what was coming, Jodi took a step back, hoping to get to her apartment before-

"Ow!" Danny said, rubbing the top of his head. "What the hell was that for?" he demanded. His glare shifted away from his cousin and landed on her just as she'd reached her door and was about to sneak inside her apartment, where she planned on hiding until it was time to go to work in sixteen hours.

"Stop being an asshole," Trevor said with a satisfied grunt before he turned around and headed for the exit only to pause and throw over his shoulder, "You still coming to dinner?"

Danny's eyes never left her as he answered, "Yeah, what time?"

"Six," Trevor said, continuing towards the door and leaving her to deal with his asshole cousin. "Bring dessert!"

Danny didn't respond and Trevor didn't wait for him to as he opened the door and stepped outside, leaving Jodi in a rather awkward position.

"Tattled on me again?" Danny asked in that deep voice that made her toes tingle.

It also reminded her of just how much she hated him.

Because of him she hadn't gotten a wink of sleep all night. Now she was tired, cranky, admittedly bitchy, and had to work on re-writing a proposal for the library renovation that had taken her a month, in fourteen hours and without pay. All because the Town Council didn't feel that the first proposal properly conveyed the importance of the library and its staff, meaning that she had to figure out a way to bring the budget for library renovations down by ten grand or start looking for a new job when they were forced to close the library.

"For your information," she bit out, taking a step towards him and pretending that he didn't have more than a foot on her as she glared up at him, "I was asking to get out of my lease. Not that it's any of your business."

For some reason that seemed to amuse him, because his scowl was instantly replaced by that smug grin of his that her palm was itching to slap off his face. "Trying to run away from your feelings for me, Tink?" he asked, bringing her rage to a whole new level.

"Did....," she started to say, only to force herself to take a deep breath before she did something that would involve that defense attorney that she'd already decided she couldn't afford. "Did you just call me Tink?" she asked with barely suppressed rage.

Oblivious to how close he was to certain death, Danny merely shrugged as he grabbed the towel from around his shoulders and dried his face and chest. "Mmmhmm."

"That's not my name," she bit out, her eyes narrowing on that towel as she thought of a whole new way to get rid of the bastard.

"Well," he said, pausing to rub the towel against the back of his head, "it really should be."

"It's not," she snapped, knowing that if he called her Tink one more time that she would-

"As much as I'd love to stand here and chat with you, Tinkerbelle, I have somewhere to be," he said with a wink as he shut the door, leaving her standing there, seething with rage and making her wonder how she was going to get through the next ten months without killing him.

The Game Plan:
Chapter 2

"I'm raising your rent," Trevor announced as he passed one of the large bowls of mashed potatoes to him.

"And why is that?" Danny asked, picking up the wooden spoon stabbed in the center of the thick white goo and scooped up a large amount.

"It's either raise your rent or let your future wife move out," Trevor explained as he squirted ketchup on his meatloaf. At least, Danny thought it was meatloaf, but since Zoe had cooked this meal he really couldn't be sure of anything.

"She's not my future wife," Danny said, sighing heavily as he placed the bowl of mashed potatoes down. "You really need to quit that shit."

"Then what is she?" Jason, another one of his cousins asked as he gestured towards the bowl of mashed potatoes. "Pass the scalloped potatoes."

Frowning, Danny looked around the table, but he didn't see anything that even remotely resembled scalloped potatoes.

"That's rice," Trevor said tightly, shooting them a glare with the silent message to shut their mouths and not question the food, something that he badly wanted to do. But since it would just end in a fistfight and with answers that he probably really didn't want, he let it go and answered his cousin.

"She's just the woman that rents the apartment across from me and that I torment for my own entertainment when I'm bored or I'm just in the mood to piss her off," which was every day, but he didn't bother to point that out since it would just encourage his cousin's bullshit.

"I see," Jason said, sounding amused.

"I'm glad that you do," he said, glad that this bullshit was over wi-

"She's definitely your future wife," Jason said, chuckling and pissing him off.

"We could have the wedding in our backyard," Haley, Jason's wife and a cute little thing that he wouldn't have minded spending a little time with before his cousin corrupted her, said, looking hopeful as she pushed her glasses back up her nose.

Zoe sighed, shaking her head as she picked up the bowl of what appeared to be gravy and said, "Bradfords don't have weddings. Weddings imply that some planning went into it and the bride was asked when what it really comes down to is a kidnapping, a terrified Justice of the Peace, a quick ceremony and a race across town to have the marriage consummated before the bride comes to her senses and gets the marriage annulled."

Trevor gasped in outrage. "You said that it was the most romantic night of your life!"

"Oh," Zoe said, blinking before she added, "It was," in a placating tone as she reached over and gave her husband's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Keep your lies, woman!" Trevor snapped, sounding pissed, but when Zoe sighed and tried to move her hand away, he quickly snatched it back and entwined their fingers together even as he continued to glare accusingly at her.

"Just because we didn't have a wedding doesn't mean that no Bradford has ever had a wedding," Haley pointed out, picking up a bowl of....well, Danny was at a loss at what the chunky, clear pink gunk was.

"Yes, it does, my little grasshopper," Jason said as he took the bowl from Haley and with a discreet shake of his head, warned her away from the stuff that not even a Bradford would take a chance on.

"There's only been three weddings in the Bradford family in the last two hundred years," Trevor said, picking up the bowl of pink goop and scooped some onto his plate.

"See!" Haley said, sounding triumphant as she moved to pick up what Danny thought was gravy, but another discreet shake of Jason's head had Haley quickly passing on that to take a sip of water.

"And all three of those marriages ended with divorce in less than a month," Jason added, receiving a nod of agreement from both Trevor and Danny, because every Bradford knew the family history, traditions and counties that they were still banned from by heart.

Bradford men didn't propose, because a proposal meant that he wasn't out of his mind in love. It was the same reason that they didn't buy rings or plan weddings, because if a Bradford male was thinking rationally enough to do any of that shit, then he wasn't really in love. A Bradford male might realize early on that he'd found the woman of his dreams, but until he was at the point that he was willing to risk a kidnapping charge, he wasn't ready for marriage.

"No worries," Trevor said, scooping some "rice" onto his plate. "After the wedding Aunt Mary will throw a big party."

"My mother isn't throwing a party, because there's not going to be a wedding," Danny pointed out, doing his best not to let his cousins know how much they were pissing him off since it would only encourage them to keep this bullshit up.

"Well, if he drags her off to Vegas and we get wind of it in time, we can-" Zoe said, sounding hopeful while the rest of them were trying not to cringe.

"We're still banned from Vegas, sweetheart," Trevor said, cutting off his wife, who looked more confused than ever.

"Wait," she said, frowning. "I thought the ban was lifted," she said, looking around the table and undoubtedly making note of the fact that none of the men at the table could quite meet her gaze.

"There, um," Danny said, clearing his throat, "was a small incident there a year or two ago that may have resulted in the ban being reinstated for another ten or fifty years."

"Wait a minute," Haley said, her eyes narrowing accusingly on her husband. "Didn't you have a layover last year in Nevada on your way to that convention in Texas for your father's construction company?"

"I-I might have," Jason said, swallowing nervously as he threw a panicked look Danny's way, but Danny was a Bradford and knew a thing or two about saving his own ass even if it meant that he had to shovel questionable food into his mouth to give himself the excuse that he needed to keep his mouth shut. Trevor apparently had the same idea, because he suddenly couldn't seem to get enough of his wife's cooking.

"And when I asked you about the breaking news alerts that kept flashing across the bottom of the television screen about the emergency shutdown in Vegas you swore to me that you had nothing to do with that," Haley said, her murderous glare cute, but a clear warning that Jason and anyone dumb enough to open his mouth was in deep shit.

"Wait a minute," Zoe said, and just like that, Danny knew that Trevor was truly fucked, "you went on that trip, too!"

Every Bradford male who worked for Uncle Jared went, but Danny didn't bother to point that out since he was home free. It was times like this that he was actually glad that he wasn't married, one of the few times he had to admit. Unlike his cousins who had fought going to the altar with everything that they had, Danny was more than ready to settle down and start a family.

In a few months he was going to be thirty-two years old and he was still alone. He'd always thought that he'd be settled by this point in his life with at least one kid on the way, but apparently life didn't always turn out the way that you expected. He certainly hadn't expected to do half the shit that he'd done so far.

When he'd been a kid he'd always thought that he'd follow in his father's footsteps and go to medical school, join his father's practice and get married, but at seventeen all his plans had changed when he'd fucked up. He'd been a cocky kid, too damn cocky. Not only hadn't he studied for the SATs because he'd been sure that he was going to ace the test right off the bat, but he'd also decided that he'd celebrate a pre-victory the night before by stealing his father's beer out of the refrigerator in the garage and proceeded to get drunk.

Really drunk to the point that if his father hadn't found him passed out on the bathroom floor that he probably would have died of alcohol poisoning. After he was rushed to the hospital and had his stomach pumped, his father, angrier than he'd ever seen him before, dragged him to school and forced him to take the SAT exam when all he wanted to do was to curl up next to a toilet and die.

One month later he'd received his test scores and learned that he scored a pathetic 490, total. He could have taken the test over again, but that would have meant a delayed acceptance to college and starting school in the spring instead of in the fall with all his friends. His pride had taken a hit with that score. Unable to handle the embarrassment of that fuck up, he'd begged his father to sign a release so that he could join the Marines, but his father had refused. His father didn't believe in fixing one mistake with another.

Pissed that the plans that he'd had for his life were ruined and foolishly blaming his father, Danny had stopped trying in school. He'd no longer cared about his grades, his family, friends or anything for that matter and had started focusing on getting the hell away from his father. The morning that he was supposed to graduate, he grabbed a duffle bag, filled it with clothes, emptied his meager savings account and hitched a ride out of town.

A week later with a fake ID in his hand, he walked into a Marine recruitment center and enlisted. It had taken the Marines less than a month to knock him on his arrogant ass and strip away every cocky assumption that he'd ever had about himself. They tore him down and kept him there until he was ready to grow up and be a man.

Joining the Marines had been the most foolish decision of his life, but it had also turned out to be the best thing for him. Once he'd managed to get his head out of his ass, he'd worked hard to become the soldier that the Marines wanted him to be. They'd also turned him into the man that he never would have been if he'd continued acting like a spoiled brat. He'd worked hard, earning rank after rank until he found himself leading a Special Forces team. He would still be there if he hadn't caught a bullet a little too close to his spine for the Marine's liking and one through his right palm, destroying his ability to pull the trigger quick enough to make him anything more than a liability.

So after ten years of serving his country, twelve surgeries to save his life and to make sure that he wouldn't end up in a wheelchair for the rest of it, he'd come home to a father that wanted nothing to do with him, no education to open doors for him and no hirable skills. If it hadn't been for his family, he would have been truly good and fucked.

His mother, brothers, uncles, aunts and cousins had pulled together and made sure that he'd had whatever he needed to get through the last of the surgeries. They'd brought him to physical therapy when he needed a ride and there had always been someone to hold his hand when the pain became too much. They'd been there for him every step of the way, making the transition from damaged soldier to civilian easier for him and for that alone he was eternally grateful.

He always had an invitation to dinner, someone willing to drop everything to help him out and the reminder that he wasn't alone. It made things a hell of a lot more tolerable for him, but some days...

It wasn't enough.

Some days he longed for a home of his own and not just an apartment that his cousin rented to him for practically nothing. He wanted a wife that looked at him the way that Haley and Zoe looked at his cousins. He wanted children that ate him out of house and home and made him smile even when they were going out of their way to piss him off.

He should be happy that he was alive and had a good job, and he was. He just wished that there was more to his life than work, his books, eating dinner every other night at one of his uncle's or cousin's homes and looking forward to pissing off his cute little neighbor. He needed to get off his ass and start dating again, but he just couldn't seem to force himself to get interested in any woman long enough to ask her out.

Like most Bradfords, he'd never had a problem finding a woman to warm his bed. Sex was easy, uncomplicated and could be used to scratch an itch. Finding a woman that he genuinely liked and wanted to spend time with outside the bedroom was a bit difficult for him. He just wished-

"I think we should focus back on Danny and his wife," Trevor announced, completely screwing him over.

Bastard!

"She's not my wife," he said evenly, forcing himself to eat another bite of the mushy rice.

"Not yet," Jason pointed out.

"For Christ's sake, she's not even my type!" he snapped, not bothering to point out that he liked taller woman with a hell of a lot more curves than Tinkerbelle had.

Tinkerbelle was pretty, he'd give her that, but she was also too short, probably five-one if that. She was petite, even smaller than Haley. She had blonde hair when he preferred black. Her breasts were small, probably C cups when he preferred large breasts that he could spend hours devoting his attention to and to be honest, she had this kid sister aura about her that just made him want to torment her.

"Doesn't matter if she's your type of not. You know how this works," Trevor said, taking a bite of his meatloaf and noticeably trying not to cringe.

"Because she's my neighbor?" he asked, not bothering to hide his snort of disgust. When his cousins sent him a "duh" look, he explained, "I've had plenty of neighbors that I enjoyed pissing off and I didn't marry any of them so clearly Great Grandpa's theory on Bradford men is bullshit."

"You've had neighbors before," Jason agreed, before he added, "but you've never gone out of your way to make any of their lives a living hell."

"That makes her special," Trevor added with a wink before Zoe said something that sent them all running from the table in search of a trashcan.

"That's not rice," she said, worrying her bottom lip. "That was baked macaroni and cheese."

Double Dare

by

R.L. Mathewson

Double Dare Synopsis:

Marybeth still couldn't believe that she'd survived this long with a friend like Darrin, but somehow she'd managed to beat the odds and not give in to temptation and smother him with a pillow while he slept.

Of course some days were more difficult than others...

For twenty years he's been biding his time, waiting for the right moment to make his move and now that she was finally his, he had to do everything in his power to keep her even if it meant making a decision that would tear them apart and force her to face the truth.
Double Dare Excerpt:

"Rot in hell, you son of a bitch!"

"You had it coming and you know it," Reese said as he climbed out of his cruiser and joined him on the sidewalk.

"I should have known that you were going to take her side," he muttered as he reached up and pressed the switch on his collar to turn his microphone on. "Echo 25 and 32 are on scene," he said before releasing the switch.

"Echo 25 and 32, I have you on scene at 32 Thompson Road at 11:22. Over," Dispatch said, marking their arrival on scene.

"Don't try to drag me into your fucked up relationship," Reese said as they started up the long walkway.

Darrin snorted at that, because really, of all people Reese had no business talking about fucked up relationships. Not only was he dating the biggest bitch that Darrin had ever met, but he also planned on marrying her. God, he couldn't stand Missy. No one in their family could.

On top of being a bitch, she was annoying, vindictive, catty, a liar and incredibly fake. He wasn't sure what he hated more about her, that fake smile she slapped on her face anytime that she saw someone that she hated or the whole "poor me" bullshit she was constantly spouting.

She worked as an artist. Well, "worked" might be a bit generous considering that she was mooching off Reese. She spent most of her time sleeping, shopping or bitching on Facebook about everyone that refused to see how truly gifted she was. From what he'd heard, she bitched about him a lot.

Not that he cared. He didn't, because he knew this fucked up relationship wasn't going to last much longer. He'd admit that he'd been a little worried there for a while, especially when Reese let her move in. When Reese proposed a few months ago, he'd known that it was only a matter of time before that bitch was out of their lives once and for all because of one simple reason.

Bradford men didn't propose.

Before a Bradford could take a trip to the altar, he had to lose his fucking mind. Kidnapping your bride was a Bradford tradition and Reese wasn't willing to risk a felony to marry Missy. Darrin on the other hand...

Was more than willing.

He'd already attempted to kidnap Marybeth once before when he was ten. If Aidan hadn't broken the wheels off his old Red Ryder wagon, she would already be his. Now thanks to his brother's inconsideration, he had to take a different approach with Marybeth. She didn't want to date, live together, get married or have a family. That made things a bit tricky for him, because he wanted all of those things and more with her.

Not that he was going to let any of that get in his way, because he wasn't. Sure, he could drag her across state lines and marry her and in time she'd realize that it had been for the best, but he really didn't want to risk needing a testicular-reattachment surgery to make it happen. Besides, she was already his so he didn't see any point rushing this.

"What floor are we going to?" Reese asked as they stepped inside the large office building.

"The eleventh floor," he said as they joined the small group waiting by the elevator doors.

"Security desk is unmanned," Reese pointed out.

"I saw that," he said, hoping that the building's security was able to handle this call on their own so that he could swing by the old Mason mansion in time to join Marybeth for lunch.

"Did you pack or do you want to grab something for lunch?" Reese asked, moving to the head of the group to block off the elevator.

"Marybeth packed me a lovely lunch to make up for her betrayal last night," he said, wondering if he should pick up a large pizza or a few subs to compliment the delicious lunch that awaited him.

Reese chuckled as they gestured for everyone to move aside when the elevator announced its arrival with a chime. "You stole her lunch, didn't you?"

"She owed me," he pointed out, unnecessarily in his opinion, as they waited for the elevator doors to open.

"You just wanted an excuse to swing by her job and bring her out for lunch," Reese said with a knowing smile.

"It is the polite thing to do after stealing her lunch," he murmured thoughtfully.

"Or you could just take her out to dinner to make up for it," Reese said offhandedly just as the elevator doors finally opened.

Sighing, he stepped inside the elevator. "Don't start this shit again."

"I just don't understand it," Reese said, hitting the button for the eleventh floor as Darrin gestured for the man trying to join them to turn right around and walk away.

"You don't need to," he said, wishing for probably the hundredth time that Reese hadn't stopped by his place that fateful day four years ago and caught him licking strawberry juice off Marybeth's breasts...as she rode him...while vocalizing just how badly she wanted to suck on his cock.

For whatever reason, Reese hadn't believed him when he'd tried explaining how he'd tripped while carrying a small bowl of mashed strawberries, somehow managing to pour the entire bowl all over Marybeth's naked breasts and that he'd been helping her wipe the juice off because it was the neighborly thing to do. His brother had simply stared at him, waiting for him to tell him what was really going on so of course he'd further explained that Marybeth's pants had been ruined and somehow slipped off during the accident and that she'd simply been expressing her gratitude for his cleaning abilities by offering to suck his cock.

It had just been an innocent series of events that had ended with him fucking her on his couch, but had Reese been able to see that? No, the judgmental bastard had refused to believe him and forced him to tell him what was really going on by threatening to tell everyone what he'd walked in on. So, after a brief physical altercation in which he'd explained what would happen if Reese ever opened his big mouth, he'd told his brother what was going on.

Once he'd finished explaining how he was easing Marybeth into marriage with sex, his brother had stared at him for a solid five minutes before calling him an idiot, which had led to another physical altercation where Darrin was forced to beat the shit out of his brother. Since then Reese had done his best to stay out of it, but every now and then he would bring it up, trying to convince him that this plan was too fucked up to work.

"Why don't you just double dare her to marry you?" Reese asked, sounding bored as they stood there, watching as the little screen above the doors announced the floors as they passed them.

"We've already been over this," he said, sighing heavily.

"Refresh my memory," Reese said, clearly intent on aggravating the shit out of him today.

"Because I want her to know that she can't live without me before I drag her beautiful ass down to City Hall and make her the happiest woman alive," he needlessly explained, again.

"It's been six years, Darrin, and she won't even let you hold her hand in public," Reese said, shooting him a sympathetic look that he didn't appreciate one bit.

His jaw clenched tightly as he said, "Mind your own fucking business."

But he refused to listen. "She doesn't want to get married, Darrin. She told you."

"She doesn't know what she wants," he said, wishing the elevator would hurry the hell up so that he could get this call over with and get away from the bastard and this fucked up conversation that he refused to have.

"You want to get married and have a family and she doesn't," Reese said with a shrug. "That's never going to change."

With a glare, he turned to face his brother. "Just for that, you're out of the running for position of godfather when she finally starts popping out my precious babies."

"You bastard!" Reese gasped in outrage. "You can't do that!"

"Just did," he said smugly, returning his attention to the elevator doors just as the elevator chimed, announcing their arrival.

"Your kids would be lucky to have me as their godfather and you damn well know it," Reese snarled.

"They could do better," he said with a shrug just to piss his brother off.

The doors started to open when Reese decided to up his game.

"You know that she's only with you because she thought that you were me, right?"

Darrin considered beating the shit out of his brother, but at that moment the elevator doors opened, revealing the reason that they'd been called.

"I quit, mother fuckers!" the plump middle-aged woman standing on the receptionist's desk announced, adding a "Whoo-hooo!" at the end there just as she yanked off her blouse and waved it above her head.

Sighing, Darrin reached back, grabbed Reese by the back of his neck and shoved him towards the overly excited woman just as she tore off her bra and sent it flying.

"You'll pay for this, you son of a bitch!" Reese hissed as the bra slapped him in the face seconds before the woman spotted him and decided to try her hand at stage diving.

Double Dare:
Prologue

1993

Darrin and Marybeth, Age 7

"Stop staring at me!"

"No," the little boy, who'd been staring at her ever since her mother had put her in time out twenty minutes ago, said with a careless shrug.

With an annoyed sigh, she decided to ignore him, hoping that he would take the hint and go away so that she could sit there glaring at her brother in peace as he made a big show out of eating the ice cream that their mother had given him. Jake smiled as he took another big bite out of his ice cream sandwich. Marybeth narrowed her eyes on her older brother before she shifted her gaze away, refusing to give her brother the satisfaction of seeing her upset.

"He had it coming," the boy said, drawing her attention back up to find him still perched on the branch above her head.

"I know," she bit out with a glare.

The boy looked thoughtful before he added, "He cries like a girl."

"I know that, too."

"Do you want me to beat him up for you?" he offered as he leaned back against the tree.

For a minute she considered saying yes, but after a slight pause she shook her head with a sigh. "No, that's okay," she said, already knowing that she'd get her brother back later for telling on her.

"You don't look like your mom," he pointed out with a curious smirk as he shifted his gaze to her mother who was still unpacking their car.

She sighed heavily as she lay back on the overgrown grass and waited for the question that would probably have her reaching for the stick next to her and throwing it at his head. He'd want to know if she'd been adopted and when she told him no he'd probably argue with her like most kids did, pointing out the fact that her mother had pale skin, blonde hair and gray eyes while she had black hair, a dark tan and green eyes. She could tell him that she looked like her father, but she wouldn't do that, because it would only lead to more questions, questions that she didn't feel like answering.

"You're prettier," he announced, making her realize that he was staring down at her once again.

"You're a bad liar," she said, blindly reaching out and grabbing the stick so that she could focus on peeling bark off it instead of how much his words had pleased her.

"Why do you think I'm lying?" he asked, sounding curious.

With a sigh, she gestured towards her mother who was talking to the movers. "Because everyone says she's beautiful."

"So?" he asked with a frown. "That doesn't mean that she's prettier than you."

"I'm not supposed to talk to you," she admitted with a sigh, because she actually liked talking to him.

"I know," he said with a huge grin. "I heard your mother when she told you to stay away from us."

"Sorry about that," she said with a shrug, not knowing what else to say.

"The pizza delivery guy forgot my dad's meatball sandwich," he said, matching her shrug with one of his own as if that explained the terrifying scene that had met them when they'd pulled into the driveway a few hours ago. It probably wouldn't have been so bad if the movers hadn't been forced to intervene and the cops hadn't showed up.

"If you already know that I'm not allowed to talk to you then why are you here?" she asked, wondering how much longer it would be before her mother remembered that she was still in time out.

Probably not for a while, she thought with a sigh.

"Because I called dibs," he said with a shrug as he shifted on the large branch until he was lying on his stomach on the branch above her.

"Dibs? On what?"

"On you," he said around a loud yawn, confusing her a little bit.

"Like a toy?" Marybeth found herself asking as she risked a glance to her right to make sure that her mother wasn't looking. Since her mother was still talking to the movers and not looking at her, she assumed that her mother hadn't seen him yet.

"I'm going to marry you," he announced, sounding bored as he drew her attention back to find him hanging upside down by his legs as he continued to watch her.

"I can't marry you," she said, frowning even as she wondered if he'd be willing to teach her how to do that without falling on her head.

"Why not?' he asked with a frown of his own.

"Because I don't even know your name," she pointed out even though it should have been more than obvious.

He laughed at that. "I'm Darrin and you're Marybeth," he said before she could tell him.

She considered asking him how he knew her name, but then realized that he'd probably heard her mother when she'd been yelling at her earlier. She glanced back over at her mother and brother before she looked back up at Darrin. She worried her bottom lip, not sure if she should ask, but.......

She had to know.

"You didn't call dibs on my mother?"

He squished his face up in disgust. "No!"

"What about your brothers?"

He snorted at that. "No, but I had to give Reese my dessert so that I could keep you."

"Who's Reese?"

"My twin brother."

"Oh," she said, because she'd never met anyone that had a twin before.

"How old are you?"

"Seven," she said, returning her attention back to her stick.

"I'm seven, too."

"You don't look seven," she said, not bothering to look up from her stick.

"I know, but I am."

Pursing her lips up in thought, she looked up at him, trying to decide if he was lying or not. He said that he was seven, but he looked more like he was ten. He was too big to be seven, she decided as she considered him. She really liked his short black hair and the way that his green eyes twinkled when he smiled. He was also handsome, she decided, not really knowing why that mattered, but it did.

"Are you sure?" she asked, returning her attention back to her stick.

"That I'm seven?"

"Yes," she said, stripping a piece of bark off her stick and flicking it away.

"Yeah, do you want to play tag?"

"I can't. Besides, I'm going to get in trouble if she catches me talking to you," she explained, risking another glance to the right to see what her brother was doing. He was done with his ice cream and was now playing with his army soldiers on the front lawn.

"Do you want to come over to my house and play?" he asked, drawing her attention back to the tree just as he started to climb down.

"I can't," she said, sighing miserably.

"Why not?"

"Because I'll get in trouble."

"You're already in trouble," he pointed out.

He did have a point, but...

"I just can't."

He was quiet for a minute before he asked, "What if I dared you?"

"Still can't."

"Fine," he said, smiling hugely. "What if I double dared you?"

Glaring, she slowly got to her feet with a nod and accepted his hand when he held it out to her, because she didn't have a choice.

He'd double dared her after all.

1996

Age 10

"There's no way that I'm doing that," Darrin said, shaking his head as he passed the baseball back to his twin brother Reese, who stood there, shooting nervous glances between the two of them.

"You wouldn't have a choice if I double dared you," she pointed out, crossing her small arms over her chest as she glared up at her best friend, who was already bigger than all the boys at their school and most of the high school boys.

"You could," Darrin murmured thoughtfully as he held up his gloved hand to catch the ball when Reese tossed it back to him, "but I would make sure that you regretted it."

"It would be worth it," she bit out, knowing that there was absolutely nothing that he could do to her that would make her regret this.

Nothing.

"Your mother would kill us," Darrin pointed out, tossing the ball back to Reese so that he could swipe his soda off the hot, black pavement and finish it off before chucking the empty bottle into the trashcan marking their property line.

"Mom and Dad probably wouldn't be happy either," Reese added, shooting her another nervous glance, taking in the frilly pink tutu and pink tights that her mother had wrestled her into before he shifted his gaze to the open back doors of their family's van where a dozen bags were threatening to fall out.

"Are you going to hide me?" she demanded, glaring up at her best friend and giving him the only chance that he was going to get before she was forced to do the unthinkable.

Darrin's smile was smug as he shook his head. "No."

"Are you sure?" she asked, deciding to give him one more chance only because he was her best friend after all.

"I'm not hiding you so that you can get out of going to your recital, not after your mom promised to videotape it so that I wouldn't miss your sad attempts at dancing," he said, taking way too much pleasure in her impending public humiliation. "If you double dare me to hide you, I'll make sure that you still make it on time to your recital."

Eyes narrowing to a dangerous degree, she decided that a change in plans was necessary. "Then it's probably a good thing that I'm not going to double dare you into hiding me, now isn't it?" she asked in a mocking tone, loving the way that his smug expression suddenly turned wary.

"W-what do you mean?" he asked, swallowing nervously as he took a hasty step back, but it wouldn't be enough to save him.

Nothing would.

He had this coming, she reminded herself, even though she had absolutely no problem with what she was about to do.

"It means that I've changed my mind about daring you to hide me," she said, mimicking that smug tone that she'd heard the rest of the men in his family use.

"Don't do anything that you'll regret," he warned, matching her glare as he tried to intimidate her.

Clearly he'd forgotten who he was dealing with, because she never backed down from a challenge.

Never.

"I dare you to wear my recital costume for the next two weeks, starting now," she said with satisfaction when she saw the look of horror on Darrin's face as her words sank in.

"You wouldn't!" he snapped even as he broke out into a run, desperate to get away from her and the dare that would make him the target of all of his cousins and uncles for the next two weeks during their annual family reunion.

If only he'd agreed to hide her, she thought with a sigh and a shake of her head as she opened her mouth and said the four words that would bring her such joy.

"I double dare you."

2001

Age 15

"This is stupid," Marybeth announced, trying not to cringe as Brian Fitzgerald sent her another wink.

"Come on, please!" Brenda begged with a huge smile as she practically bounced with excitement on the dingy old loveseat next to her, sending a fresh wave of old dust into the air to mix with the scents of heavy perfume, cheap cologne and mildew.

"No," Marybeth said, wondering why she'd come here in the first place.

"Pretty please!" Brenda pleaded with a high-pitched giggle that drew the attention of every teenage boy in the room.

"Ladies, don't forget to put your names in the jar," Laurie, a girl that she'd seen around school a few times, said, shooting David Thompson a coy smile as she placed a large glass bowl on the coffee table among the empty root beer cans and discarded bags of chips.

"Come on!" Brenda said, gushing with excitement as she stood up, grabbed Marybeth's arm, pulling her off the couch and attempted to drag her across the room so that they could put their names in a bowl so that one of the boys who'd bathed in cheap cologne could feel them up in the closet for five minutes.

Yeah...

She was good.

"I'm going home," she said, pulling her arm free and headed for the glass patio door only to groan a few seconds later when Brenda latched onto her arm and made another desperate attempt to get her to stay.

"You can't go yet!" Brenda whispered somewhat hysterically. "Come on, you promised!"

"No," Marybeth said, placing her hand over Brenda's and gently pried her hand off, "I really didn't."

"It's just five minutes!"

"In a closet with a horny teenage boy who doesn't even known my name," she said dryly as she deftly freed her arm and headed for the glass patio doors that promised freedom and fresh air. "I'll pass."

"Please!" Brenda begged, making another mad grab for her arm, but before Brenda could reach her, Marybeth slid the double doors open and was outside, shutting the door behind her.

"Where are you going?" the only person in the world that could make her smile even as he pissed her off asked from where he stood, leaning back against the house where he'd apparently been waiting for her.

"Home," she said, gesturing towards the woods and the path that would take her home where she could sit on her couch, eating cookie dough and watching old Saturday Night Live episodes while she pretended to study for her algebra test.

"I see," Darrin murmured thoughtfully and as much as she'd love to ignore him and go home, something in his tone had her stopping and turning around to glare at him.

"You see what exactly?" she asked, narrowing her eyes on him.

"That you're a chicken," he said with that cocky smile of his, the same one that most of the men in his family seemed to have perfected by the age of ten.

She blinked up at him, sure that she'd misheard him. "I'm a chicken because I didn't want to go in a closet and get felt up by some boy that I barely know?"

"No," he said, shaking his head with a heavy sigh as he leaned back against the wall, "because you're running away from your feelings for me."

"My feelings for you?" she repeated back slowly, wondering if he'd managed to hit his head today.

"You're madly in love with me," he said solemnly, making her roll her eyes in exasperation.

"Puhlease," she said, shaking her head as she turned around and headed for the path and the cookie dough that she'd hidden in the back of fridge.

"Everyone knows"

"Then everyone is delusional," she said, not bothering to bite back her smile as she ducked beneath an overhanging branch and stepped onto the well-worn path.

"This just proves how badly you want me," he explained as he joined her on the path.

"Because I'm walking away from you?" she asked dryly as she ducked beneath another branch.

"I think running would be a more fitting word," he said, sounding thoughtful and earning an exasperated shake of her head and a roll of her eyes as she placed her hand on his arm to steady herself as she stepped over a fallen log blocking their path.

"Really?"

"Mmmmhmm."

"You do realize that I was leaving the party before you showed up, right?" she asked with a resigned sigh as he hung that large arm of his over her shoulders.

"Because you sensed me."

"You're right. I did," she admitted with a solemn nod.

"I knew it," he said, sighing heavily as he gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze.

"Want to tell me why you bothered to show up at all?" she asked, shooting him a curious glance to find him looking down at her.

"Why wouldn't I show up?" he asked, frowning.

"Because you weren't invited?"

He shrugged it off. "That usually doesn't stop me."

Well, that was true...

"There's also the fact that you said that you had no interest in going to that party," she reminded him as they navigated their way around a large puddle blocking their path.

"I changed my mind," he simply said as they stepped back on the path.

"About?"

"Waiting until later to give you your dare," he said offhandedly and if she hadn't been watching the cute little chipmunk sitting in the middle of the trail she probably would have realized what he'd said sooner.

As it was, she'd barely managed to break away from him before he asked, "Don't you want to hear your dare?"

"No!" she yelled over her shoulder as she darted off towards the right, hoping the dense woods would provide her with some sort of protection, but thanks to her lack of athletic ability and a thick root sticking out of the ground, she didn't make it very far before he turned his dare into a double dare that ended with her spending the next six months sentenced to doing grunt work for Uncle Jared and cursing the day that she'd heard the phrase, "Double Dare."
Fenway Park

Boston, MA

2009

Age 23

"Looks like Trevor's getting arrested."

"Uh huh, that's nice," she said, not bothering to look up from the iPad mini that she felt was rightfully hers now.

"Marybeth-" the betraying bastard once again started with his bullshit apology, but she knew the tone that he was using a little too well.

"It's not going to work," she said, absently swiping her finger over the iPad's screen, sighing heavily when the new page didn't look any more promising than the last one had.

"But, I'm really sorry," Darrin, the bastard that she couldn't seem to shake, said, sounding like he was pouting, which he most likely was since his charming tone hadn't worked on her.

"Rot in hell, you selfish bastard," she said, trying not to cringe when she saw the asking price for a basic one bedroom apartment on Royal Ave, which wasn't exactly encouraging since Royal Ave was located in one of the worst parts of the city.

"I can't believe that you're still mad," the asshole muttered, grabbing her beer and finishing it off.

"Believe it, you male whore," she muttered, once again swiping, cringing, and swiping again.

"But, she attacked me!" Darrin said with the typical Bradford arrogance and drama that she was, unfortunately, used to.

"Uh huh, that's nice," she said, wondering if she should look for a new roommate only to dismiss the idea seconds later. There was no way that she was going to be able to go through that again, not unless she cut the jerk stealing her hotdog out of her life and after all the years of bullshit that he'd put her through, she just couldn't do it. She'd put too much time in training this one and at her age, she really didn't like the idea of breaking in a new best friend.

"What if I told you that I could make it up to you?" Darrin asked, putting his arm around the back of her seat so that he could lean in next to her and look at the screen.

"I'd call you a lying bastard," she said, not bothering to shove him away since it wouldn't do any good. The bastard simply didn't understand the concept of personal space, at least not where she was concerned.

He'd always been that way. When they were kids he'd grab her by the hand and drag her everywhere, demand to sit next to her at lunch or in class, and he always had his arm thrown around her, always. If he'd been any other guy, she probably would have shoved him away or kicked him in the balls, but....

It was Darrin, her best friend. Besides, by this point she barely noticed it anymore. She did notice when the women that he was dating took exception to it, mostly because they got all bitchy and pissy and thought to try to lay claim to Darrin and shove her out of the picture. It never worked, but she did appreciate the entertainment. She was a permanent fixture in his life and if a woman couldn't accept that, Darrin dropped her without a second thought.

She would like to say that it was the same way for her, but Darrin really didn't give her a choice in the matter. If any guy that she was dating took offense to their friendship, Darrin, the asshole who was currently eating her chips, would take it upon himself to show the guy to the door. It still pissed her off when he did it, but at this point it just wasn't worth bitching about, not when he did other things to piss her off, other things that caused her roommate to have a meltdown, had the swat team breaking down her door, her landlord getting a restraining order against her and forcing her to sleep on her brother's ratty old sofa. With Darrin Bradford she'd learned a long time ago that she had to pick and choose her battles or deal with his glares and bitching.

"I was going to tell you that Trevor had a townhouse for rent, dirt cheap, but since you're not interested...," he let his words drift off, shrugging as he sat back in his chair.

She had to snort in disbelief, she really did. "You're forgetting that he swore that he would never rent to either one of us again after what happened with that delivery kid from Papa Gino's."

She still hadn't forgiven Darrin for that one either. Trevor had been the best landlord that she'd ever had. He wasn't a jerk, never raised her rent, always took care of his properties and never rented to any assholes, well, any assholes that he wasn't related to anyway. She missed her old apartment. It had been large, newly updated, weather proofed and most importantly, really cheap, but the bastard next to her had ruined it for her, because of a late night craving he'd had for Buffalo wings.

"He's looking to sell it, because it's not bringing in much money. He's just looking for a tenant to stay there to make it look occupied. He said it's harder to sell a place if it's empty, because it looks less attractive to prospective buyers," Darrin explained as he signaled to a vendor passing by their row.

It was tempting, very tempting, but...

"I need a place longer than just for a month or two," she pointed out, knowing that it wouldn't take long for Trevor to sell the townhouse since all his properties were kept in perfect condition.

"True," Darrin said, handing the vendor five dollars for an ice cold Coke, "but I was thinking that he might finance you if you wanted to buy the property."

She had to roll her eyes even as excitement bubbled inside her at the prospect of finally owning her own home. It was tempting, really tempting. She would love having a place of her own, love to be able to work on it without having to ask her landlord's permission for every little thing, love to have the peace of mind and security that owning a home would bring, but she knew that it would never happen. As a single woman in her twenties with only a GED, decent, not perfect, credit and none of her family willing to co-sign for her, she would probably never own her own home. It also didn't hurt that her savings, while decent, was nowhere close to being enough for a twenty percent down payment.

"He's not going to finance me," she sighed, finally looking up from the iPad so that she could swipe the Coke from his hands.

He narrowed his beautiful green eyes on her as she made a show of opening the soda bottle and taking a long satisfying sip, trying not to smile as he signaled the vendor for another bottle. As she took a second, and just as satisfying, sip of her soda she couldn't help but appreciate the man now glaring at her. With short, messy black hair, a golden tan, perfect masculine features and an incredible build, he was every women's walking wet dream, not hers, but that didn't mean that she couldn't appreciate a hot guy when she saw one.

"If he doesn't, then Uncle Jared probably would," he said with a shrug, finishing off his soda before grabbing hers and finishing that off as well.

"Uncle Jared isn't going to help me," she mumbled, looking past Darrin to watch as Trevor was shoved down to his knees by three cops and handcuffed while Zoe frantically tried to explain something to the officers, probably something to do with the twins, she thought with a yawn. She looked over to find Uncle Jared holding the twins, who were looking a little too innocent as they ate their ice cream cones. She knew without a doubt that whatever was going on, the two-year-olds were definitely behind it.

"Of course he would," Darrin said, looking bored as he watched the little scene to their right unfold.

"I'm just an employee," she pointed out, trying not to wince when Trevor was shoved down to the cement staircase, face first.

"Don't let Uncle Jared hear you say that," Darrin said, shifting back in his seat to get more comfortable.

"Shouldn't you help him?" she asked, gesturing towards Trevor as several more cops raced towards them since she didn't feel like arguing about her boss and her weird place in the Bradford family.

"Probably," Darrin said around a yawn.

"Are you going to?" she asked, watching as Trevor was yanked back up to his feet.

"In a minute or two," Darrin said, signaling for another Coke as they watched Zoe gesturing wildly between her twins, her husband and the field.

"What the hell?" Jason snapped as he was suddenly grabbed by two cops and shoved to his knees next to Trevor.

"Do you think the twins planned this?" she asked, taking the Coke from the vendor and gesturing for him to step aside so that she could watch the show.

"It's hard to say," Darrin said, taking the Coke from her and taking a long sip before handing it back to her.

"It's kind of frightening," she mumbled around a sip, watching as Haley walked over to join the drama.

Darrin chuckled, taking the bottle back as Haley, smiling hugely, pulled out her cellphone and started taking pictures of her husband as a three hundred pound cop patted him down. After a slight pause, Marybeth followed suit and pulled her cellphone out, deciding that she might need a good laugh later tonight when she had to fight with her brother's dog, affectionately named Killer, for space on the couch.

"I guess I should give them a hand," Darrin said, taking one last sip before handing her the now-empty bottle.

"Hold up," she said, reaching out and stopping him by placing a hand on his arm. "I just want to get this...shot," she said, angling her phone to just the right angle so that she could capture this momentous occasion. "Got it," she said, with a satisfied sigh as she sat back and put her phone away.

"Text them my way," Darrin said, standing up as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his badge.

"You know my fee," she said, signaling to the vendor for a beer as she leaned back in her seat and watched as the Yankees creamed the Red Sox.

Darrin chuckled as he pulled out some money and paid for her beer. "I'm not doing your laundry."

"We'll see," she said, knowing that the need to rub his cousins' noses in this later would be his downfall. She might not have a place to stay yet, but at least she wouldn't have to worry about doing her laundry for a week, she mused, sipping her beer as she took advantage of Darrin's absence and bought another hot dog.

*-*-*-*

"Not fucking happening," Trevor said, carefully picking up his Styrofoam cup of water with his handcuffed hands and took a sip before he added, "So fuck off."

"Why not?" Darrin asked, absently adjusting his holster as he leaned back against the wall and took a sip of his coffee.

Trevor blinked up at him. "Because I hate you. Was I not clear about that?"

"No," Darrin said, lightly blowing on his coffee before he took another small sip, "you were quite clear about that."

"Then why are you wasting my time with this bullshit?"

He pointedly looked around the small holding room that security had thrown Trevor in over two hours ago. "Do you have something better to do?"

"Seethe," Trevor bit out.

"You know that I can make this whole thing go away, don't you?" he asked casually, not mentioning that he'd already done that or that Trevor was free to go since that would take away his leverage.

"I'd rather become Bubba's bitch," Trevor informed him, which of course made him sigh heavily as he shook his head, wondering why the bastards in his family had to make things so difficult.

"You know that I'll never miss a payment," he pointed out, hoping to talk some damn sense into his cousin.

Trevor snorted at that. "It's not about the money."

"Then what's it about?"

"Did I not mention that I hated you?" Trevor asked with a disgusted shake of his head, taking another sip of water.

"But you love Marybeth," Darrin pointed out.

Trevor looked up and met his gaze head on, "So do you."

"Never said that I didn't."

"But, you've never told her."

He actually had...

But since he'd been drunk and had mistaken her roommate for her, who'd sort of flipped out when she'd realized that he was in love with Marybeth, he decided that it was probably one of those things that shouldn't be mentioned.

Ever.

"I don't need to tell her."

Trevor chuckled, shaking his head in wonder. "You're hoping that the Bradford curse will do the work for you."

"Maybe," he said with a shrug.

"It's not going to work."

"It just might."

Trevor muttered something as he put his cup down. "The curse is bullshit. It's not going to work."

"Then explain Zoe," he said as he placed his cup of coffee on the table.

"She begged me to marry her and I just didn't have the heart to turn the poor thing down," Trevor said with an exaggerated sigh and a sad shake of his head.

"Didn't she lose a bet?" he asked with a frown.

"You bastard!"

"Just sell me the house," he said, hoping to get this over with so that he could hunt Marybeth down and start the long process of convincing her that this was a great idea.

"Not happening."

"Yeah, it really is."

"I'll sell the house to Marybeth, but not to you!"

"That's really not going to work for me," he pointed out.

"Because she'll be able to kick you out?" Trevor guessed, shaking his head in disgust.

"Exactly."

"I'm not selling you the house," Trevor said firmly.

"Oh, but I think you will," Darrin said, pushing away from the wall as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. "Unless you want Zoe to see what you were doing last night," he said, holding the phone out to his cousin so that he could see the damning picture in all its glory.

"You...bastard!"

"It sure would be a shame if Zoe found out that you were throwing away the lunches that she packed for you everyday," Darrin explained as he returned the phone to his back pocket.

Trevor narrowed his eyes on him. "You'll regret this one day, you son of a bitch!"

"Probably," he agreed with a careless shrug as he headed for the door. "But look on the bright side, you just stopped yourself from becoming Bubba's bitch."

"He would have been gentle!" his cousin yelled after him, making him chuckle as he headed towards the waiting room, preparing for the fight of his life.

Less than a year later...

She never should have agreed to come on this trip, she realized as she turned over onto her side and blinked away another tear as she listened to the Bradford boys talking and laughing around the fire.

At least if she'd stayed home she'd be able to lounge around in her pajamas, eating junk food and watching Lifetime movies while she wallowed in self-pity. Instead, she was stuck on this trip, forcing herself to smile and laugh at jokes while pretending that she wasn't dying inside. Maybe she should just tell them that she wasn't feeling well and get a ride into town, she thought even as she dismissed the idea. She didn't want to talk about it and if she told them that she wasn't feeling good, they'd gang up on her until she told them what was going on.

Sighing, she rolled over onto her other side, trying to find a comfortable position on the old, lumpy sleeping bag that Darrin had dug out of his parents' garage. After a few more turns, groans and sighs, she decided to steal Darrin's sleeping bag and use it as a mattress. Sitting up, she reached over to do just that when she heard a twig snap close by.

"I'm fine," she muttered as she grabbed her sleeping bag and threw it on top of his.

"Then come out and join us," Darrin said as he unzipped the large net window at the back of the tent.

"No," she simply said as she sat on top of her mattress, laid back and closed her eyes.

"You want to tell me what's wrong?" he asked, not exactly surprising her that he'd realized that something was wrong, but she'd kind of been hoping that he'd just assumed that she was upset about Malcolm.

"No," she said, rolling over onto her side, facing away from him and hoping that he'd just take the hint and go away.

"I know that you're not upset about that prick, so tell me what's going on?" he asked just as she registered the feel of his fingertips tracing a line down her neck, leaving a path of goose bumps behind.

"He wasn't a prick," she admitted with a grumble.

Malcolm had been a nice guy, sweet, kind, considerate and had apparently been falling in love with her, something that she'd warned him against. Unfortunately he hadn't listened. While she'd been hoping for something casual to pass the time, he'd been imagining a life together filled with children, puppies and a white picket fence.

"Maybe not, but he wasn't the right guy for you," he said softly as he continued caressing her cheek.

Hating the way that she reacted to him, she reached up and brushed away his touch. "I'm tired, Darrin," she said, pointedly closing her eyes, hoping that he'd just leave her alone so that she could continue to wallow in self-pity.

"I see," he murmured.

"Good. Then go away."

"I will...just as soon as you complete the dare I just gave you," he murmured, sounding thoughtful as she lay there, frowning and wondering what he was talking about.

"You didn't dare me," she pointed out as she rolled over onto her back.

"I didn't dare you to go skinny dipping?" he asked, sounding thoughtful as she immediately sat up and headed for the tent flaps, all while praying that she made it in time before he could dare her to take a dip in the ice cold lake that she'd been avoiding since they'd arrived earlier this afternoon.

She'd just managed to grab hold of the zipper standing between her and freedom when the large bastard sealed her fate with four simple words, "I double dare you."

*-*-*-*

"You. Bastard!"

"How's the water?" he asked, shooting her a smile and a wink as he threw another log on the fire.

"I hate you!" she hissed as she continued to slowly make her way into the ice-cold lake as he took his time setting up their mini camp.

"You love me and you know it," he reminded her as he walked over to the fallen log and grabbed the rolled up sleeping bag that he'd hidden earlier.

"Hate! I hate you!" she snapped around chattering teeth.

"That's just the freezing cold water talking, sweetheart," he said as he rolled out the sleeping bag in front of the roaring fire.

"No, this is," she bit out, sounding triumphant and letting him know that he was about to get a taste of his own medicine, but he'd been expecting it. "I double dare you to get your ass in here."

"I see," he muttered, making sure to sound appropriately put out as he kicked off his shoes and pulled off his clothes.

"I hope you freeze your balls off, you sick bastard!" she hissed through a clenched jaw as he tossed his boxers aside and stepped into the cold lake.

"Shit," he hissed as he forced himself to keep going, wishing that he'd come up with something else to help take her mind off that asshole.

"This was a dumb dare," she muttered as he joined her.

He chuckled as he reached for her, pleased when she wrapped her arms around him and held on, most likely trying to steal the last of his body heat, but at the moment he didn't care. "I'd imagined this going a little bit differently," he admitted, deciding that telling her that he'd actually planned a romantic midnight picnic for two by the lake probably wouldn't be in his best interest, not when the admission would cause her to shove him away and storm off.

"You lose your dare privileges for two weeks for this bullshit," she announced as she wrapped her legs around him and tightened her hold around his shoulders.

"Fine," he said, deciding not to argue, not when she was in his arms like this.

"And you're doing my laundry for a month after this," she informed him as she buried her face against his shoulder.

"Will it count if I drop it off at a Laundromat?" he asked as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her shoulder before he could stop himself.

"It depends," she mumbled against his shoulder.

"On what?" he asked, closing his eyes as he prayed for control.

"On whether or not you're willing to splurge for the good softener," she mumbled, making him chuckle as he tightened his arms around her.

"You're a greedy little thing," he said distractedly as he moved back in the water, needing to do something to take his mind off of just how good it felt to have her in his arms like this.

"You already knew this," she muttered as she reached up and gently trailed her fingers through his hair.

He sighed heavily as he kissed her shoulder. "True," he agreed, closing his eyes as he moved through the water, enjoying the fact that he could hold her like this without worrying about some prick trying to come between them.

This time he wasn't going to wait for the right time to tell her how he felt. This time he was going to tell her that he loved her before some other asshole could come into the picture and force him to wait again. He couldn't stomach the idea of sitting back and watching as some other asshole held her when he knew with every fiber of his being that he was supposed to be the one holding her in his arms. He swallowed hard, dreading her reaction even as excitement tore through him.

"I need to tell you something," he said even though he had absolutely no idea how to tell her that he was in love with her, not after all this time.

She shifted in his arms and sighed heavily. "If it's something that's going to depress me, I'd rather you kept it to yourself."

"It's not depressing," he promised her, although he was pretty sure that he would find it depressing if she rejected him.

"Okay," she said, pulling back so that she could look up at him as her fingers continued to toy with his hair, "tell me."

He opened his mouth to tell her that he loved her, that he wanted to be with her, wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, to have children with her, but he couldn't find the right words. He'd practiced this in his head a hundred times a day for years, but now that he had her in his arms and another asshole was out of the picture, he couldn't figure out what he was supposed to say to make her take a risk on him, on them.

"What is it?" she asked, shifting her hand away from the back of his head so that she could cup his jaw. "Darrin? Are you okay?"

"I...," he started to say only to end up shaking his head with regret, because no matter what he said or did, he was going to fuck this up and probably lose her.

So instead, he kissed the top of her head and told himself that this wasn't the right time.

Double Dare:
Chapter 1

Present Day

It must be Saturday, she realized with a sigh when she felt Darrin press another kiss against the back of her neck and his large body curled up behind hers, pressing the abnormally large erection, that she was ninety-nine percent positive was the result of an accident involving radioactive waste, against her bottom as his arm wrapped around her. There really was no better way to wake up, she thought as she settled back against him, reached down and-

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" Darrin yelped, jumping off the bed in record time as she took her time sitting up and climbing off the bed.

She groaned softly as she stretched her arms over her head, noting the way the bastard paused in rubbing the back of his hand to watch her. With a roll of her eyes and a chuckle, she headed for the bathroom, throwing over her shoulder, "Get the hell out."

"No," he grumbled around a loud yawn as he stumbled back towards her bed and threw himself across it.

"Then you better have breakfast ready when I get out," she said, absently noting that he was wearing black boxers, her favorite.

Pathetic, she thought with a sigh and a smile as she walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She used the bathroom, brushed her teeth and had just stepped in the shower when she heard the bathroom door open behind her.

"You have your own apartment," she reminded him.

"But I like yours better."

"Too bad," she said, tilting her head back and closed her eyes as she allowed the water to pour over her hair.

When she heard the sounds of the shower curtain being pulled back she smiled. He was such a persistent bastard.

"Don't even think about it."

With a chuckle, he released the curtain. "What do you want for lunch?" he asked, making her frown.

"What happened to breakfast?'

"It ended about two hours ago," he said sounding amused while she stood there, shoulders sagging and muttering, "Damn it!"

"What?"

"I have a date at one that I forgot to cancel," she said, opening her eyes and grabbing the bottle of shampoo, resigning herself to a nice relaxing bath tomorrow morning after she got home instead of a leisurely shower now.

"You don't sound too happy about it," he noted, sounding hopeful.

Because she hadn't been looking forward to this date. He was her brother's accountant or something like that, not that she really cared, because she already knew that it wasn't going to work out. According to her brother, his friend was in his early thirties, funny, smart and ready to settle down and start a family. In other words, he wasn't for her.

"Jake," was all she needed to say to make him understand.

With a chuckle, he said, "Oh, I see."

She just bet he did, she thought as she heard the bathroom door click shut behind him. For a minute, okay, maybe a second, she considered going after him and stopping him, but then she realized that it really was for the best. Besides, this way she'd be able to meet Zoe and kids earlier than planned.

*-*-*-*

"What do you want?" Darrin demanded as soon as he ripped the front door open.

"I, um," the man standing on his front step said, looking a little unsure of himself, "I'm here to see Marybeth?"

"Do you have an appointment?" Darrin asked as he folded his arms over his chest, giving the confused man a good look at the gun he'd shoved in the front of his pants.

"Umm," the man said, glancing down at the gun, "her brother arranged a date for us. I'm supposed to pick her up at one."

"She's just finishing up with her last client," he said, leveling a glare on the much smaller man.

"A client? Jake told me that she was a painter."

"Are you a cop?" Darrin asked in his sternest tone, the one he'd honed to perfection over the years.

"A cop?" the other man repeated, noticeably swallowing as he shifted nervously. "No, I'm not a cop."

"Good," Darrin said approvingly with a firm nod. "Did Jake tell you to bring cash for your donation?"

"Donation?"

"She requires a three hundred dollar cash donation, per hour."

"I......," the guy gave his head a little shake before he asked, "Are you saying that she's a hooker?"

Darrin just stared at him.

"Jesus!" the guy gasped, stabbing his fingers through his neatly combed hair.

"Do you have the money or not?" he asked, hoping to speed this thing up so that he could get back upstairs and convince Marybeth to crawl back in bed with him for a few hours. He'd rather use the time to try to convince the stubborn woman that she was madly in love with him, but he was too fucking exhausted to do anything more than pass out.

He'd been working too many extra shifts and not just for the overtime, but to earn more vacation days. For every eight-hour shift he worked, he earned an hour of vacation time. So far he'd earned an additional six weeks of vacation time this year. Add that to the five weeks of vacation time that he'd earned last year, and the four he earned the year before that and he was going to have plenty of time to help his cousin and her husband out when the time came.

If it came....

Three years later, Connor and Rory were still trying to get their project off the ground. They were aiming high, very high, and they needed to raise an insane amount of money to get their project going, but Darrin had faith that they were going to do it. They were going to turn Rory's dream into a reality and when they did, he was going to be there for them.

Every Bradford was.

"I'm sorry, but there must be some mistake. I'm looking for Marybeth Dawson," the man said, sounding hopeful that this had all been a mistake and bringing him back to the problem that he needed to take care of so that he could catch up on some sleep.

"She prefers to be called Caramel Butter," he said, giving the guy a knowing smile and just to fuck with his head, a wink.

"Caramel.....Butter........," the guy repeated back slowly, making Darrin feel kind of bad. The guy looked decent enough. It wasn't his fault that Marybeth was his, had been since they were little kids even though the stubborn woman refused to accept it. He opened his mouth to explain things to the guy only to end up shaking his head in disgust.

"Listen," the guy said, licking his lips nervously as he glanced around, "I only have fifty bucks on me, but I can hit an ATM and be back here in ten minutes."

Typical, he thought as he reached back and pulled his badge out. "Run," he simply said.

"Oh, shit!" the guy said, stumbling back. "I'm gonna go now."

"You do that," Darrin said, shoving his badge back in his pocket and sighed in disgust.

He was going to have a word with Jake, he decided as he threw the lock on the front door, walked back in her apartment and dragged his ass back upstairs.

"Did you get rid of him?" Marybeth asked as he walked into her bedroom, not sounding terribly upset that he'd ruined her date, which of course pleased him.

"Yeah, he went running," he said, smiling when he spotted her curled up in bed beneath the covers.

"Did you pull your badge out?" she asked teasingly as he pulled his gun free and placed it on the bureau next to her Bradford Construction baseball cap. He shoved his pants off as he made his way towards the bed.

"Had to," he said, pulling the covers back so that he could join her.

"You couldn't have just told the guy that I wasn't interested?" she asked, snuggling back against him.

"I wouldn't have to if you just told your brother that we're together," he said, pressing a kiss against the back of her neck.

"That would be lying," she said, groaning softly as he wrapped his arm around her and cupped her bare breast.

"Would it?" he asked, pressing a kiss against her bare shoulder as he gently squeezed her large breast.

"Yes," she said, turning her head so that she was looking back at him as she pressed her bottom against his erection, reminding him that he hadn't had her since yesterday morning just before he'd left for his shift, "it would."

He released his hold on her breast and reached down between them. He reached inside his boxers and pulled his eager cock out. He watched as she licked her beautiful pink lips as he gripped his cock and aimed seconds before he pushed inside her warm, wet core.

"Fuck," he groaned as he moved his hand out of the way so that he could slide deep inside her.

She gasped as she went ahead and licked those beautiful lips of hers, driving him out of his fucking mind. He reached up and pushed a strand of her black hair out of the way as he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. "We can do this for the rest of our lives," he pointed out as he moved his hand down her arm, over her breast, making sure to brush his palm over the large brown nipple that he loved to devour with his mouth, and down her soft stomach until he was tracing her wet slit.

"This is only temporary," she reminded him as she spread her legs to give him better access.

He decided that it would probably be for the best if he didn't remind her that they'd been doing this for over six years as he found her clit and gently teased it with his fingertip. He slowly pulled back, loving the way that she moaned as she reached down and gripped his hand to keep it right where it was while he pushed back inside her.

"I could fuck you all day," he said against her lips, knowing exactly what that would do to her.

She moaned as her grip tightened around his hand. He deepened the kiss as he continued to slowly thrust inside her, his finger matching the rhythm of his thrust as he took his frustration out on the infuriating woman that refused to put him out of his fucking misery and marry him.

"My turn," she said, allowing him one last thrust before she pulled away slowly, making him groan as his cock slid free.

After six years, he knew what she wanted and had no problem giving it to her. He brushed his lips against hers one last time before he moved back and sat up. He reached over and cupped her ass as she rolled over onto her stomach. By the time that she raised her ass up in the air he was already moving behind her and entering her.

Leaning over her, he pressed a kiss against her spine, on her shoulder and on her neck as he pulled back and slid back inside her. She felt fantastic, absolutely fucking fantastic, he thought as he placed his hands over hers and entwined their fingers.

"Move in with me," he said, pushing inside her only to pull back quickly, hoping that it was enough to distract her into agreeing to his plans.

"No," she said, panting as she turned her head in silent demand.

Chuckling, because honestly this woman was going to be the death of him, he leaned down and gave her what she wanted as he slowly pulled out, groaning against her mouth as he noted how wet she was, and pushed back inside. She was so damn stubborn, but that was okay, because he would do whatever it took, no matter how long it took, to have her.

"Then spend the day with me," he said against her mouth, noting the exact moment that she went still beneath him.

"Ummm, I can't," she said quickly as she tried to entice him with a wiggle and a kiss that had him groaning and forcing himself to remain still, because he knew without a doubt that she was hiding something from him.

Double Dare:
Chapter 2

"On your back," Darrin whispered, pressing a kiss just below her ear and making her wince.

Damn it!

He knew!

"This is fine," she said quickly, daring a glance behind her, wondering if she could make it to the door before he could stop her.

"On. Your. Back," he whispered again, stressing every word and letting her know that there was no escape.

Not for her.

"This is good for me," she said, sounding hopeful.

"You have ten seconds, Marybeth."

"I'm not hiding anything," she lied, squeezing her eyes shut as she swallowed nervously.

"Why don't I believe you?" he asked as he slowly pulled out until the tip was at her entrance.

"Because you have trust issues," she pointed out, discreetly pushing back and trying to force him back inside in an attempt to distract him and because she'd been enjoying herself damn it!

"Marybeth," he said sighing her name heavily as he pulled out the rest of the way and flipped her over onto her back.

Before she could even consider trying to argue her way to freedom, he was running his very talented tongue between her slit. "Oh, God..."

"What's going on, Marybeth?" he asked as he leisurely licked her.

"Ummmm, nothing," she mumbled, licking her lips hungrily as she tried to resist him.

"Try again," he said, settling more firmly between her legs, getting comfortable, which was not a good sign.

It meant that he was planning on stretching this out for as long as it took to get what he wanted. She couldn't do this. Not after the last time. She'd barely survived. She also hadn't been able to talk for two days after that since the bastard hadn't stopped until long after she'd lost the ability to scream his name.

"Please, Darrin," she said, moaning his name as she spread her legs and reached down to run her fingers through his hair as he continued to lick her out.

"Tell me what I want to know," he said, pausing to flick the tip of his tongue over her clit.

"N-nothing," she said, licking her lips hungrily as she tried to roll her hips and force his tongue inside her, but the bastard wasn't having that.

He kept her hips on the bed and kept leisurely licking her, hitting all the right spots and driving her out of her mind, but it wasn't enough to send her over the edge.

"Just tell me what I want to know, Marybeth."

"There's nothing to tell!"

A long, drawn out sigh was his response as he tilted his head and gently suckled her clit, momentarily robbing her of her ability to breathe. She closed her eyes and tried to think of something, anything else to distract herself from what he was doing, but he refused to grant her a reprieve. He flicked his tongue over her clit before he traced a path down to her core and slid his tongue inside her.

"There's nothing!" she practically cried even though he hadn't asked her another question. At this point it wasn't really necessary, because they both knew that he would keep going until she told him what he wanted to know.

He felt so damn good....so...good........

"Please, Darrin!" she begged, moaning and whimpering when he kept licking her, bringing her to the edge and-

Pulling back to trace her slit again.

"You...son of a bitch!" she said, gasping and trying to shift away from him.

She couldn't tell him where she was going.

She just couldn't.

"Oh, God!" she screamed, her back bowing off the bed as he slid his tongue back inside her and brought her right back to the edge. Just as she felt her orgasm building to the point of no return he pulled back.

"I hate you!" she gasped, releasing her hold on his hair to reach back and grab the headboard in a useless attempt to pull away from him, but he wasn't letting her go.

"No," he simply said, "you don't."

No, she really didn't, but at moments like this she really wished that she did.

"I can stop this at any time," he said, pulling back just far enough to gently blow cool air on her over-sensitized clit.

"Then stop it now!"

"Not until you tell me what I want to know," he said, leaning back in to press a kiss between the two spots that craved his attention the most.

"I can't!"

A lick.

"Tell me."

"No!"

Another long, leisurely lick had her licking her lips and moaning, as her body was once again brought to the edge only to leave her groaning as he moved away, leaving her on the cusp of a powerful orgasm. Her body trembled as he started all over again, she couldn't take this, couldn't do this. He'd find out eventually. She knew that he would. It had been useless to try and keep this from him and foolish.

When she felt his tongue slowly move between her slit, she gave in, unable to take anymore.

"I'm meeting Zoe," she admitted before releasing a moan of pleasure as he rewarded her with a finger.

"Where?" he asked, sliding his thick finger inside her as he slowly moved up her body.

He continued to lazily finger her as he slowly kissed his way to one breast where he took her nipple between his lips and suckled. When he pulled back, he allowed his teeth to gently slide over her nipple, earning a gasp of pleasure.

"Where are you meeting her?" he asked as he moved up her body the rest of the way and smoothly removed his finger, replacing it with his hard shaft. He slid inside her as he kissed her cheek.

"At an agreed upon location?" she said, hoping that it would be enough to get him to finish what he'd started and forget about what she'd said, but unfortunately, for her, it wasn't.

"Where?" he asked, kissing her other cheek as he slowly pulled back until the tip of his cock was the only thing left inside her and stayed that way.

He wouldn't.......

Oh, God, who the hell was she kidding? He would definitely start this torture all over again if that's what it took to make her talk. When he sighed heavily and moved to pull the rest of the way out, she quickly wrapped her arms and legs around him, desperate to keep him where he was.

"An amusement park!" she rushed out, uncaring at the moment that she'd just sealed her fate.

He chuckled as he pushed back inside her. She started to sigh in relief when the bastard took her by surprise and suddenly pulled out.

"What are you doing?" she asked, making a mad grab for him as he started to kiss his way back down her body.

"Getting started on your punishment."

"Oh no," she mumbled even as she managed to turn over, scramble off the bed and-

Scream in pleasure when he caught up to her and took her to the floor where he dished out her punishment for the next two hours.

*-*-*-*

"Still not talking to me?"

"Rot in hell," Marybeth said, taking a sip of her soda as she walked away from him.

"Come on," Darrin said, quickening his pace to catch up with her, "you know that you're happy that I came."

"No, not really," she said with a tiny shake of her head as she walked past the games lined up on either side of them.

"You'll have more fun with me," he pointed out, wondering if she was still pissed that he'd told Trevor about Zoe's betrayal.

She shot him a glare as she kept walking, probably hoping that he wouldn't notice that she was walking away from all the fun rides. "How exactly am I supposed to have more fun with you when I came here to have fun with the kids?"

"Because you hate children," he decided to remind her.

"No, I don't," the stubborn woman said as he reached down and relieved her of her soda.

He chuckled as he finished off her soda and tossed it in a trashcan as they walked past it. "Yes, you do."

"Then explain why I invited them this weekend instead of you?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow in challenge.

"Simple, you don't like going to places like this by yourself and," he said, grinning because he simply couldn't help himself, "because you knew that I would dare you to get your beautiful ass on one of the rollercoasters."

"You bastard!" she gasped, quickening her pace until she was almost running through the crowd, but she couldn't run fast enough to get out of earshot before he took it to the next level.

"I double dare you."

About the Author

Writer, Facebook stalker, mother of two and hot cocoa addict, R.L. Mathewson lives life to its fullest.

When she's not chauffeuring her children to and from school or their various activities, she runs a Lego Club for a bunch of chocolate addicted children, blasts Sirius XM's The Highway, writes, edits, cooks, cleans and oh yeah, she even watches movies on Netflix.

It's safe to say that she does it all..............

Intrigued?

Of course you are.

If you would like to know more about this author, her latest books or information on the latest methods to stalk people on Facebook, visit her site:

www.Rlmathewson.com

Or you can email her directly at, Rlmathewson25@gmail.com

