Page 2 of Dead Clucked
“Stealing kids’ Halloween candy in October!” Fitz snickered. “Giving people coal in their stockings in December.”
Ronan had heard just about enough from his so-called friends. He shrugged, as if their insults rolled off him like water off a duck’s back. No matter the shade Fitz and Jude were trying to throw, nothing could take away from this moment.
The entire world was about to find out what Erin O’Mara had known all along, Ronan was a god among men.
2
Jude
Winner, Winner Chicken Dinner
An hour later, Jude was still tickled by the idea of being featured in a beefcake calendar. He’d always known he was gorgeous, with his silky black hair and matching dark eyes. Throw in his slim waist, along with bulging pecs, and he was an absolute knockout. Men from far and wide would line up wanting a piece of him, which, as far as Jude could tell, was the only drawback of posing.
Cope had known exactly who Jude was before they’d become friends with benefits. Jude attracted men no matter where he went or what he was wearing. He made sure to flash his wedding ring, along with his trademark smile, letting his adoring public know he was officially off the market. Cope had been mostly patient when men openly flirted with Jude, but he couldn’t help but wonder just how far that patience would stretch when the entire world would have Jude’s sexy centerfold tacked to their walls.
“Babe! You’re not going to believe what happened!” Jude wrapped his arms around Cope, who was helping set Ten’s kitchen table.
“You got the neighbors to bagourleaves that you raked intotheiryard?” Cope rolled his eyes and finished setting silverware on folded napkins.
“Now you tell me!” Jude threw his hands up in the air. “What a genius plan.”
“We’ll save that idea for next fall,” Ronan said as he walked into the kitchen and washed up. “My hands can’t take much more abuse.”
“I told you to use hand lotion before you choke your chicken,” Fitzgibbon said.
“You’rethe culprit?” Ten asked, pointing at Fitzgibbon. “It took three days for me to get the taste of roses out of my mouth. I thought Ronan was dicking around in the garden, but it was my hand lotion.”
Jude’s mouth hung open. He had several snappy comebacks, but for once he’d kept a lid on it. There were more important things to discuss. “While we were outside raking, Cisco called.”
Ten sighed. “What the hell has Ronan donethistime?”
“Why does everyone assumeI’mthe problem child?” Ronan folded his arms over his chest and pouted. “As a matter of fact, Cisco was calling with a great opportunity.”
Ten patted his sulking husband’s shoulder. “If the shoe fits.” He turned to Jude. “Does this great opportunity include Ronan being traded to the Beverly Police Department for a sack of old balls and a traffic warden to be named later?”
Jude and Fitzgibbon snorted, while Ronan’s pout deepened.
“Cisco wants us to pose for some police beefcake calendar.” Jude flexed, catching Cope’s eye. He dropped a sexy wink.
“Oh, and Cisco included Ronan out of pity?” Ten asked. “Is he being paid to keep his clothes on?”
Ronan gasped, a hand fluttering to his chest. “Maybe I’ve put on a pound or two over the years, but I’m still sexy as fuck!”
“Of course you are.” Another pat on the shoulder from Tennyson.
“So this calendar thing is for real?” Cope asked, looking uncertain.
“Seems to be,” Fitz said. “Cisco called a meeting about it for tomorrow morning. We’ll get more details then.”
“I’m gonna have to hire security to keep my adoring public at bay.” Jude puffed his chest out.
“You mean to keep you safe from people throwing rotten tomatoes!” Ronan snickered.
“What have you got to say about this, Fitz? You’ve been pretty quiet,” Cope said.
“Yeah, how come you’re not strutting like the cock of the walk?” Jude asked. It wasn’t like Fitz to not blow his own horn.
Fitzgibbon offered a good-natured grin. “I’m over fifty. My hair is more salt than pepper and there’s this one spot in my lower back that’s been aching since the Clinton Administration. If someone wants to slap my broken-down ass on a beefcake calendar, who am I to say no?” Fitz shrugged. “In terms of having my toned abs plastered all over town, I’m not gonna count my chickens before they hatch. Cisco was pretty light on the details. For all I know, we could be posing in those blow up T-Rex costumes.”
