Page 5 of Dead Clucked
How the hell was Ronan ever going to explain his reversal of fortune to Tennyson? Ten hadn’t been able to keep his hands to himself after the kids had gone to bed the night before. All he could talk about was having a model as a husband and how the world was going to know what a stud Ronan was. After hearing about the chickens, would Ten still want to bone him?
Looking across the office at Jude, he could see his friend was in a similar mood. He hadn’t said a word since storming out of Cisco’s office. Ronan had a feeling Jude was wondering just how far his star had fallen. One moment he was the Chris Hemsworth of the group, handsome, in his prime, sexy as fuck, and the next minute, he was being asked to share top billing with a Rhode Island Red in a pair of farmer’s overalls. How the mighty had fallen.
“Okay, enough of this pity party,” Fitz said, walking out of his office. “Unlike you two cluckle-heads, I had time to read the information Cisco gave me. This calendar is for charity. It’s going to benefit several local food banks. With Thanksgiving right around the corner, it’s more important than ever to make sure our neighbors’ hearts and bellies are full. Not only do I think we should do this photo shoot, I think we need to.Set an example for the community. Maybe we could get local companies involved to match proceeds or to make donations. If we lead, I know others will follow.”
Ronan sighed. “I hate it when you’re right. You know how we feel about Salem.”
“Jude?” Fitz asked, when his detective failed to put in his two cents.
Sighing, Jude met Fitzgibbon’s eyes. “I’ll be a laughingstock.”
“You mean a chicken stock,” Ronan said with a grin. “I don’t think it will be as bad as you’re imagining. It’s not like we’ve got to dress up like giant chickens. We’ll just have to cuddle them, or whatever the hell people do with chickens, aside from roasting them.”
Jude snorted. “Maybe.”
“According to what I read, the shoot is going to last an hour, maybe a little longer if your chicken isn’t cooperative.” Fitz wore a hopeful look as he spoke.
“Coop-operative,” Ronan said on a wheeze. “Chicken puns kill me!”
“Just make sure you take your allergy meds,” Fitz advised. “The last thing we need is you sneezing and dribbling all over the poor birds. Not to mention red, itchy eyes don’t say beefcake, more like contagious.” He turned back to Jude. “Well?”
“Fine, I’m in, but we need to figure out what the hell to tell our husbands.” Jude shook his head. “Cope was a freak in the sheets last night. I’d like a repeat performance of that, which isn’t going to happen if my husband finds out I’m chicken fried.”
“Same with Ten,” Ronan agreed.
“Did either of you bird brains ever think how hot farm animals are?” Fitz asked. “People lost their minds a few years back when Tom Brady posed with a baby goat. Maybe the same thing will happen to you.”
“Baby goats are cute,” Jude said. “So are lambs and calves, and foals. Chickens arenotcute.”
“Sure they are!” Fitzgibbon gushed. He pulled out his phone and started tapping on the screen before turning it toward Ronan and Jude. “This is a Polish chicken. Look at those adorable fluffy head feathers. She looks like she just took her husband to the cleaners in the divorce.”
Ronan took a closer look at the bird. The chicken’s feathers were tawny and looked soft. The way her feathers puffed out around her head reminded Ronan of Tennyson when he woke up in the morning and his crazy curls were all fluffed out. “Fitz is right. She is pretty cute. Men would go crazy with you shirtless and hanging out with this little lady.”
“I don’t want men to go crazy. Just my husband.” Jude sighed. “Last night was the first time in a while that things were hot. Different. On fire. I guess I hadn’t really noticed how mundane our sex life had become.”
“We seemed to have moved from the farmyard to Jude, the miniseries.” Underneath Ronan’s humor, he wore an understanding look. “Same thing happened with me and Ten a year or so ago. Sex was good, but predictable. I went online to look at amateur porn to see what other people were getting up to. You know, as research.” he waggled his eyebrows.
“Only you could call watching porn research.” Jude shook his head. “Did it work?”
“Hell yes! A lot of couples were into role playing with costumes and props and what not. I had an old trench coat in the closet from our PI days. I put it on, with nothing underneath and grabbed Ten’s fedora from last year’s Halloween costume and walked into the bedroom holding a magnifying glass. Told Ten I was on the hunt for the mysterious lost dong of the Aztecs and I’d need to inspect him to make sure he wasn’t concealing the stolen dick.”
Fitzgibbon held up a hand. “Enough! I’ll never unsee that.” Fitz rubbed his eyes.
“Did it work?” Jude asked, starting to laugh. “Did you find the lost dong?”
“Twice!” Ronan crowed triumphantly. “If roleplaying worked for us, it can work for you and Cope.”
“Maybe.” Jude wore an unimpressed look.
“If all else fails, just remind him that you’re the ChrisHens-worth of the group!” Ronan snickered, with Fitzgibbon joining in.
Jude looked madder than a wet hen. “Cluck off, Ronan!”
“Cluck you and the hen you rode in on!” Ronan shot back.
“Nice to have you mother cluckers on board.” Fitz snorted and headed back into his office.
It wasn’t going to be easy explaining to Tennyson that instead of showing off his muscled physique, he’d be posing with a hot chicken dinner, but if there was a will, there was a lay…
