Page 8 of Stirring Up Trouble
“Is that Leslie?” I asked.
Bobby Allen chuckled. “I’m going to guess it is. She looks feisty.”
“She does.” I nodded as I tried to figure out what emotions were moving through me. We were away from home, far enough that my libido issues — had they been location based — shouldn’t be affecting me.
And yet I had no desire to take things any further. Before, I would have been plotting ways to seduce someone that looked like her. I’d have been the first guy out of the truck, my focus on the woman I planned to bed.
I shook myself from the errant thoughts. It would do me no good to keep focusing on my own problems when there was work to be done. I could fret over my sex life when I was alone in bed at night.
Or maybe not alone. We’d have to wait and see how it all went down.
My mind immediately went back to the app I’d been looking at. The curiosity I felt towards it hadn’t gone away. If anything, I was eager to get the introductions and small talk over with so I could get back to it. I wanted to know more about the process. My gut was telling me there was a reason it popped up on my phone. The universe put it in front of me for a reason. I needed to find out why.
Could I be a Daddy? I didn’t think I’d ever had the inclination before. And I would have given I was around several Boys and Littles all the time. Wouldn’t I crave wanting to help them? Was that even a thing?
“Howdy, boys,” Leslie called once we were out of the truck. She trotted down the steps, then stuck her hand out. “I’m Leslie. I’m sure you guessed that already.”
We all laughed at her words. Bobby Allen stepped up first. He shook her hand, introducing himself and Elton.
“And this is…”
“I’m Robin Joffry. The last-minute addition. Thanks for letting us stay with you.”
She shook my hand as one brow raised. “Oh, you have such good manners. You sound like a polite little thing. The boss is gonna like that. Also, this isn’t my ranch. It belongs to my best friend.”
“Best friend?”
“Yep,” she said with a smirk. “Follow me inside. He went to shower, but he’ll be back in a second. In the meantime, Ms. Connie made y’all some dinner. We can get started on that since her food is coveted high and low in this place.”
“Sounds about like the Coleman Ranch too. Harlan’s food draws the folks in.” I spoke up even though I didn’t live there like the others did. Something in me wanted to defend Harlan’s reputation as best ranch cook. Not that there was even a competition. I think I was just off-kilter somehow.
Leslie’s smile grew. “We’ll have to see if he keeps the title of favorite after you eat some of what Ms. Connie put together.”
She led us into the house with confidence. While I believed her when she said they were best friends, part of me wondered if there was more to it. The fact that the man was showering while she played hostess went a long way at encouraging the ideas in my head.
The first thing I noticed when I walked in was how cozy everything felt. Whoever this best friend of hers was, he knew how to create a relaxing environment. I wanted to curl up on the soft looking couch, cover up with one of the many fleece throws tossed around, and simply stare into the massive fireplace as it roared with a raging fire.
Yeah, I might have been a bit smitten at the space. Sue me.
“Right through here,” Leslie said as she kept moving through the living room and down a short hall into a massive kitchen and dining room space. It was much more open back here than in the front, though I suspected it was because of how much traffic this area garnered. If they functioned like the Coleman Ranchdid, then they were feeding all their hands during the week. That meant big bodies filling up the space multiple times a day. A small area wouldn’t do.
A gorgeous Black woman stood in the kitchen, an apron across her ample chest that read, “Eat it or make a sandwich” on the front. I snickered at the words, which was apparently the thing to catch her attention.
“Well, who do we have here? Are these our guests, Leslie?” Her grin told us she knew the answer. She must have wanted to put on a show of the greetings.
It made me instantly like her. That and the smell of whatever she was cooking.
“Yes, Ms. Connie. These are the men helping us out. Meet Bobby Allen, his partner Elton, and Robin.”
“Two partners? Well that’s new,” she replied, hand to her chest.
I raised my hands. “Oh no! No, no, no. I’m not with them like that.”
Everyone in the room turned my way at my hasty reply. Their expressions ranged from amused (Leslie) to confused (Ms. Connie) and even a bit curious (Elton).
“You would be lucky to be in a throuple with us,” the latter of the three said as he tucked himself into Bobby Allen’s side.
Laughing, I shook my head. “I have enough relationship issues on my own. No need to complicate it by having two partners. Thanks but no thanks.”
