Page 49 of The Billionaire and the Runaway

I stop, wide-eyed. Shit. Shitty, shit, shit. What do I do? I look around as though a giant hole will appear out of thin air, and I can hide inside it.

“Whatcha doing?” she asks.

“Oh, I…uh, was going to use Eric’s washer and dryer. Mine’s not working,” I say, the words coming out in a rush.

“Oh? We should get Earl to take a look. He used to work for our local handyman years ago. Earl! Earl! Come over here!” Joy screams.

Fuck. I try to come up with something. Anything. All I know about washers and dryers are the basics I learned by watching friends do laundry in college. Like the most basic stuff. I once tried to do laundry and I dyed all of my shirts pink because I didn’t know you couldn’t wash bright red clothes with whites.

Earl comes around the corner. “Stop your hollering. What’s the problem? Who died?”

“Ariana says there’s a washer issue at the guesthouse. Can you take a look?” Joy asks.

“Sure. What seems to be the issue?” he asks me as he starts toward the house.

I turn and follow him, trying to come up with some sort of answer that makes sense. A noise? No, that wouldn’t prevent me from washing. No water? No power? I wrack my brain for something, anything. Come on, stupid brain, work! Then I remember something. It’s foggy at first, but eventually, as we enter the house it comes back to me.

“It’s the turn-y thing. It wasn’t spinning,” I state remembering when my friend’s washer got jammed. Now, I think that was user error but at least I know it’s something that can go wrong.

“The turn-y thing?” Earl says incredulously.

“Yep, that thing,” I concur.

“Right.” He sighs and opens the washer. He spins the turn-y thing.

“Seems to be working just fine.” Then he spins it again, but it stops and the three of us stare at it. Shit, did I really break it?

He fiddles with it, reaching down and feeling around the bottom of the device. Then something begins to come out of that small crevice. A moment later, Earl is standing there with my thong hanging from his finger.

“Found the problem,” he says dryly as he drops the thong in my open hand. “Maybe don’t use butt floss. Damn things always get caught in the machines.”

Oh God. This is when I die, right? I’m not usually bashful, but the image of Earl handing me my underwear is now permanently embedded in my mind for all of eternity. I can never unsee it, ever again.

“What’s going on in here?” Eric asks from the front door. Great. As if this couldn’t get any more awkward.

“Butt floss got caught up in the washer. It’s good as new,” Earl states as he walks toward the door. He jerks his thumb back toward the machine. “You should take her to town and have her buy some of those granny panties that my Georgia wears. Those things never get caught.”

The fact that Earl is throwing around words like “butt floss” and “granny panties” has me fighting a laugh. I press my lips together. Because I’m equal parts embarrassed and entertained all at the same time. I’m so distracted by Earl’s word choices that I’m not even nervous about anyone finding out I’ve been sleeping with Eric.

Eric chuckles. “Noted, Earl. I suppose I can take our newest employee into town for some shopping. How about it? We can even grab food. I’ll pay,” he says to me. Joy and Earl look back at me and Eric winks. He’s smooth, I’ll give him that.

“Sure. Why not? Not sure I’m a granny-panty type of girl, but I’m sure I can find something,” I state.

“Heather’s thrift store has underwear,” Joy says.

My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. “Thrift store?” I ask in horror at the idea of wearing used underwear.

Joy laughs and is joined by Earl and Eric. “She thinks the underwear is thrifted,” Earl says in between nearly sobbing in laughter.

“It’s not?” I ask.

“No. Heather has really nice things on consignment, but she also carries new things. Not all the inventory is used,” Eric explains.

“Oh…I see,” I state as I blush, and Eric’s look goes from amused todo that again and I’ll bend you over right here. I have no idea why he loves it when I blush, but he does.

“Well, you two kids have fun. I have to go pick up Lennox from soccer practice. I’ll see you in the morning,” Joy says with a wave.

We all wave back and I look over at Earl. He’s looking from Eric to me. “You two enjoy yourselves. Don’t go too crazy,” he says, his voice laced with suspicion. Oh no! Does he suspect anything? Does that matter? Eric and I haven’t discussed taking our relationship public yet. But I suppose that topic is going to be on the agenda tonight.

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