Page 33 of Home to the Hollow

VolumeTwo

Danny Boy

“Well, look at ye, ya jammy hoor!”

Startling awake, I sit straight up, clutching the purple satin sheet to my chest. I glance around for the early morning intruder warily. My free hand pushes my mass of tangled raven waves out of my eyes so I can see. Where the hell are my animal protectors? Who thefuckis in my bedroom yelling at in me in Irish?—

“Seer!” I shout, my face breaking into a broad grin when it occurs to me who it is.

“Don’t eat the head off me for not calling ahead, Peanut,” she begins, her lips quirking into a mischievous smirk. “Seein’ as I’ve walked in on your orgy an’ all.”

“Not an orgy.”

The muffled sound makes my eyes widen, and I peer across my Alaskan king in surprise. In a tangle of limbs and sheets on either side of me, my doctor panini. My gaze shoots back to Seer, a deep red flush spreading over my skin. Despite the many wild times the two of us survived as we globetrotted for years, being caught like this makes me flush.

“Aye, Peanut. I s’pose the cute bum on the right is tellin’ ye true. Y’don’t have ‘nough participants to make an orgy. I’m sure I can help y’fix that soon ‘nough.”

I blink in confusion as the boys decide to join the land of the living, sitting up with matching smirks.

“You know, sugarplum, an audience is a novelty but your friend needs to give us some privacy to get dressed.”

“Unless you’d prefer we?—”

“NO!” I cover my mouth when the vehement response to Presley’s snark pops out. “I mean, uh… Seer, go down to the kitchen. We’ll dress and I’ll… make breakfast.”

Her tinkling laugh echoes off the walls as she eyes me, not believing my fumbling cover for a second. “Fair play. I’ll leg it downstairs and we’ll chat once you’re settled.”

Once she’s out the door, I groan, burying my face in my hands as the guys roll off the bed. I don’t have a clue why Saoirse is here, or how she ferreted her way into my house—this is a disaster. How am I supposed to deal with the two hot guys I boned—who didnothot foot it as soon as possible—and interrogate her?

My life continues to be one colossal joke on a cosmic scale, I swear to Hecate.

“Sugarplum, why do you have men’s clothes in your closet?”

I look over at Wolfie, a fond smile coming to my lips unbidden when I see him peeping out of the closet with a handful of jogging pants. “They were my dad’s. I cleaned this room, but something told me to leave a few items.”

Presley strolls out of the bathroom, picking up his glasses from the nightstand. “That’s just our good luck for the day, eh, Lucy?”

Wolfie grins and tosses him a pair, nodding. “Sure is, Prez.” His head tilts as he studies me, still wrapped in the sheets. “Did you get shy with us overnight?”

Us? Jesus, am I a part of an ‘us’ now? What in the fiddling fuck have I stumbled into?

I give him a smile, shaking my head as I rise. It won’t do to hurt his feelings by looking terrified about whatever all this means. Presley’s already studying me like a hawk—which is fitting, I guess—and I don’t think I can explain what’s going through my mind now. “Not at all, puppy eyes. I was waiting until you two got settled.”

The look on his face is one of relief, but the other half of our triangle doesn’t seem convinced. Presley walks over, cups my face, and looks into my eyes. “Nothing has to be decided today. We have plenty of time to figure it all out, magpie.”

I nod, a small smile curling my lips. Leaning in, I peck a light kiss on his lips before walking over to give one to Wolfie. His bright smile lights up the room, and I chuckle as I pad into the room with an extra sway in my hips. Dr. McNuggies is right; I don’t have to decide right now, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone judge me while we explore our little menage.

Once I’ve pulled on a comfy tank and leggings, I join them, arching at a brow at their whispers. “Something I should know about, boys?”

“Only that I think Lucy should bring a few things for the dude side of your closet, just in case. And maybe a few toiletries,” Presley says, his handsome grin spreading at my expression.

“Sugarplum, you look like a ghost. We should get downstairs and get you fed. Your friend may have gotten eaten by your companions by now.”

My eyes narrow as Wolfie changes the subject, knowing the discussion is closed in their minds. I’m going to get mysterious deliveries next week; I’m certain of it. “Uh-huh. Well, Seer can manage herself… trust me. But I am hungry, so I’ll let your little secrets slide for now.”

They each take one of my hands and lead me out of the bedroom, chattering away about waffles versus pancakes.

I’m like the Pied Piper of Cock this week. It’s astounding.

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