Page 25 of When You Least Expect It
Starting with the fruit basket, I told Abrielle everything from when Myer had helped me get rid of it to us sharing a beer last night, and I hadn’t left anything out.In case I came up missing, I needed someone else to know what was going on in the sunroom across the street.
When I was finished telling her everything, she said, “I never imagined that Louise would be into the kinky sex scene.”
“Right?”I snorted.“I mean, what’s more disturbing than a man defiling you in the name of God?I mean, it’s one thing to play priest and confessional booth when you’re roleplaying, but to actually use religion as a precursor to sex?Yeah, that’s wild.”
“So, is this Jury Patton guy really dangerous, or is Myer just being a guy?”
“I think a little bit of both,” I answered honestly.“Now, while I don’t think that Jury is really dangerous in the serial killer sense, I do think that he’s dangerous to vulnerable women.I think that he’s a predator and is trying to amass a small harem.”
“And Myer thinks that you’re on his list of potential members?”
“That’s what he says, but I don’t think that it’s that serious,” I replied with a sigh.“I think that Louise was just trying to please him by trying to lure me into their little group, but I don’t think that he’s going to attempt to kidnap me in broad daylight or anything like that.”
“Okay, so let’s table the cult across the street for a bit and get back to your sexy neighbor,” she said, her priorities always on point.“What else do you know about him, and do we for sure know that he’s single?No ring just means that he’s not married.”
“Well, when I went over to his house, it was completely masculine, no cups with lipstick stains on them or anything,” I told her.“Granted, all of her stuff could have been in the bedroom, but he seems like the type of guy that would enjoy having his girlfriend’s stuff strewn all over his house.”
“Because of the whole protective vibes that he was giving off?”
“That and...I don’t know,” I muttered.“He just seems...he seems like he’d be into PDA.”
“He looks like he’d be the type to be able to hold you up against the wall during sex,” she retorted.“I don’t know what you’re waiting for.”
“Well, it’d help if he actually showed some interest in me,” I pointed out.“He was very clear about not liking predators, and I think jumping him against his will would fall under that category.”
“But would it be against his will?”she posed.“That’s what we need to find out.”
“And how do we find that out?”
“Take him a freshly baked pie while wearing a low-cut shirt, then when you hand it to him, bend over just enough that he gets an unobstructed view down your shirt,” she suggested.“If he’s interested, he’ll invite you in to share the pie.If he’s not interested, then he’ll just shut the door in your face.”
“And this freshly baked pie is coming from where?”I asked, pies not being my specialty.I was more of a cookies and cupcake kind of baker.
“Maybe we can buy one at the store, then dump it onto a plate,” she replied.“I mean, how knowledgeable is he about store-bought pies anyways?I think the switch-a-roo would work.”
“Maybe, but you’re also forgetting that my cleavage isn’t all that impressive,” I reminded her.“Something that you should know since we’re twins.”
“Boobs are boobs,” she replied easily.“No man cares how deep the cleavage is.”
“I beg to differ,” I argued.“Why else would push-up bras cost a fortune, and why else would us women pay the insane prices?Cleavage matters, sister o’mine.”
“Only to douchebags,” she countered.“Real men care about what’s inside.”
“Like the inside of our vaginas?”
Abrielle let out a genuine laugh.“Not all men are worthless.”
“No, they’re not,” I agreed.“But it does seem like they’re the only type that are single.”
“Well, to be fair, you have to actually leave the house and do something besides work to meet those nice guys,” she pointed out.“Unless he works for the post office or UPS, he’s not going to just show up at your doorstep, Calista.”
“Myer did,” I reminded her.
“I suppose you got me there,” she conceded.“But it doesn’t count if you don’t do something about it.”
“It should still count,” I argued.
“I can’t see how it would.”
