Page 12 of Sutton's CEO

Sutton

A loud crash woke me from my sleep. Out of instinct I grabbed the bat by my doorway and raced into the kitchen. In horror, I saw that Mark lying spread eagle on the floor with a nasty gash on his head. That wasn’t the only surprise, either. My neighbor Earl also had a bat in his hands, it was clear what had clobbered Mark, and it looked like Earl might be going in for another swing.

“Stop!” I yelled, causing Earl to pause in his assault.

“Sutton, this here is a burglar,” Earl explained. “It’s called self-defense.”

“No, he’s not a burglar. I invited him to stay for the night!”

Earl’s eyes bobbed between Mark prostrate on the floor and me standing across from him. “Oh,” he murmured, slowly lowering the bat. “I must not have heard that part. Thought he snuck back in.”

“Earl, put that away, and then come and help me see if you’ve killed him.”

“I’m not dead,” Mark mumbled from the floor. I watched as he raised his hands to the bump and noticed that they came away sticky with blood.

“Maybe we should call an ambulance,” Earl suggested as he came back into the room without the baseball bat.

“Earl, where are your pants?’

I had just noticed that Earl was in his tighty-whitey undies and that they were in serious need of a washing. I was a little surprised that he had managed to knock Mark down so readily. Of course, Earl was swinging a Louisville Slugger and Mark was an innocent party not expecting the blow.

Sinking to my knees, I looked into Mark’s eyes. I knew from the emergency room that dilated pupils or uneven dilation could indicate a concussion. “Are you alright?” I asked, hating how my voice shook a little.

Mark looked at me for a long moment. I decided that his pupils looked fairly normal, but still wondered if we should call an ambulance. Mark had sat up and seemed to be gathering his wits.

“What was that?” he asked.

“An old Louisville Slugger,” Earl replied helpfully. “One of those boyfriends left a few when he moved out several years back.”

Mark looked to me with a raised brow. It looked rather ridiculous with his injured forehead. “Not my old boyfriend,” I answered Mark’s unspoken question. “It was one of Mama’s.”

Earl laughed. “Sutton doesn’t have boyfriends. She’s a good girl. Never had any trouble out of her. You should ask my Martha.”

I shook my head. “This is crazy. Mark, are you alright? I can drive you to the hospital in your car or we can call an ambulance if that makes you more comfortable.”

“Never been better,” Mark croaked as he forced himself to stand. At first there was a bit of wobble to his stance, but I noticed that his snark was right on point.

Grabbing some paper towels, I thrust some into Mark’s hand and moved to the sink to get more of them wet. Then I guided him over to a chair and told him to sit. We needed to mop off his injury to see if he needed stitches. I also sent Earl after the first aid kit, just in case.

“Just what in the bloody hell was that about?” Mark demanded.

“Earl must not have heard me tell you that you can stay,” I said, moving in close so that I could start cleaning him up. I tried to ignore the fact that I was in teeny tiny pajamas and he was in a white t-shirt and boxer briefs.

“Does Earl stay often?”

“Why would you ask that?” I paused in my ministering to his head to look down at him.

Mark’s face was even with my breasts, and I noticed that he seemed rather intrigued with the fact that I don’t sleep with a bra. I could feel my nipples beginning to harden and chose to ignore it.

Trying to remember what Mark had asked, I answered his question with a question. “I don’t know. How often is often?”

He grunted something unintelligible that I was grateful not to have heard.

“Twice a week, tops,” I added before I could stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth. I helped him up into a standing position. I tried not to think about the proximity of our bodies as we stood there in my kitchen.

Mr. Williams rolled his eyes. “No, that’s not at all often.”

He looked very out of place in my avocado green kitchen. I tried to tell myself it was retro, but in truth, it was just dated and ugly. I shoved a wave of embarrassment down. I had nothing to be ashamed of.

---