Page 2 of Inviting Trouble
She jolted and dropped her hand, her cheeks burning. “Ever hear of knocking?”
Ty leaned against the doorframe in a sleeveless shirt and shorts, crossing his arms like he always did to show off his bulging biceps. “Door was open.” He smirked. “Were you French-kissing your hand?”
She hurled her sneaker at him.
He ducked and grinned. “Who you gonna kiss, huh?”
“I wasn’t kissing my hand. I was spitting. Cleaning my sneaks.” She stood and shoved one foot into a mostly clean sneak, retrieved the other one near Ty, and slipped it on.
“Did you rip my favorite shirt?” Ty asked. “Mad!”
She lifted her chin. “It hasn’t fit you in five years. It’s mine and I can do what I want with it. This is the style.”
He pointed at her chest. “I can see your…your…cover up!”
She set her teeth. “No.”
He stared at the two knots she’d made at the bottom of the shirt, stared at her belly button, then went to the dresser, yanked open a drawer, and grabbed another hand-me-down, a faded Eastman High track shirt, and tossed it at her. “Put that on.”
“No.” She stepped around the shirt and headed out.
“Dad’s not gonna let you out of the house like that,” Ty called.
“I’m not going out,” she threw over her shoulder, heading for the stairs. She halted on the top step when the front door opened and the man of her dreams stepped inside.
Her heart thumped its love beat—Park-er,Park-er,Park-er.Be cool!Park’s dark brown hair was in a buzz cut, ready for basic training, his wide shoulders straining the fabric of a white T-shirt with faded jeans that molded to his body. He was eighteen, enlisted to serve his country, a full-fledged man. He looked up, his gorgeous hazel eyes meeting hers, and she slowly descended the stairs in what she hoped was a sexy and alluring way.
“Hey, little bit,” Park said with a smile. “We got an ice cream cake.”
Little bit.Her heart sank.Little bit, mini, shortstack. She wasalwaysthe little twerp. Did he even notice she was all woman?
Her dad—a tall fit man with short brown hair, brown eyes, and what she called laugh lines around his eyes and mouth, and he called worry lines on account of all his kids—stepped inside with the cake. He gave her a quick hello and headed to the kitchen.
She rushed down the rest of the stairs, eager for Park to get a closer look at her boobs. Seriously, if even Ty noticed her low-cut shirt, Park had to. Park always noticed her, always looked out for her and included her when her brothers told her to get lost.
“We should set up the volleyball net in the backyard,” Park told her, looking around. “Where is everyone?”
She stopped directly in front of him, the tips of their sneakers nearly touching. “I’m here.”
He put a large hand on top of her head. “Yeah. Where’s everyone else?”
She silently seethed, but didn’t push his hand away. At least he was touching her.
“Mad, we’ve got to get you some new clothes,” her dad said, returning from the kitchen. “That shirt’s falling apart. Go change and then run the vacuum while I get stuff ready.”
Park dropped his hand and his gaze locked on her chest. She threw her shoulders back to make the view more impressive. He met her eyes again. “Ty here?”
“Upstairs,” she said and stomped upstairs to change.
Ty brushed past her and headed downstairs, calling to Park, “Hey, you’re back! I got beer.”
Mad’s ears perked up. Maybe if Park had a beer or two, he might be easier to convince. She knew her dad wouldn’t mind if Park drank. After Park had enlisted, he and her dad had a beer together, toasting to Park’s future. She went to the larger bedroom where Park kept his stuff, grabbed his dark blue plaid flannel shirt, and pulled it on. Now she was covered and he’d notice she was wearing his shirt. She made it to the hallway when she realized her mistake. It was July and, even in the air-conditioning, she was sweating. She quickly changed out of jeans and into some shorts. The flannel shirt fell a little low, over her hips, just a bit of shorts peeking out. Cool.
She did the stupid vacuuming, got even sweatier, and had to put her hair up in a high ponytail. So much for sexy style. By the time the house was filled with her brothers and their friends, her sleeves were rolled up and all the buttons of Park’s flannel shirt undone. Her dad didn’t notice her boobs were back on display. He was too busy holding court in his favorite recliner, reminiscing about his old Army days. She sat on the arm of the sofa; Park sat on the far end away from her. In between were her brothers Ty and Alex. Logan sat on the floor with their blood brothers—like family, these guys were—Zach, Ethan, Ben, and Marcus. Her dad, a cop, was active in the Police Athletic League and mentored a lot of kids who needed a stable father figure in their lives.
She pretended to listen while she mentally rehearsed what she’d say to Park later, once everyone was gone or asleep. She’d sneak downstairs to where he slept on the sofa and she’d say…what? She bit her lip and looked over at him. He met her eyes and winked.
She flushed and quickly looked away. Did he know what she was thinking? That would make it so much easier.
