Page 27 of Average Joe

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re sweet as pie when you’re pissed.”

“Shut up.”

“Come join us.” He pursed his lips, teasing.

That expression would’ve been cute if I wasn’t so worked up.

“I grill a mean steak.” He stepped back and gestured for me to enter.

I threw out the only defense I could muster. “I’m not gonna sit around eating and drinking with a bunch of criminals.”

He stiffened. “Criminals?” That massive chest rose and fell. “That what this is about?”

“I can’t get involved with people like you.”

“Like me.” He nodded, his jaw going rigid, those blue eyes arctic.

I’d sliced him with my judgmental blade. A low blow, but a necessary punch. God, how far would I stoop to protect my wounded spirit?

Joe’s face reddened. He took another step closer, towering over me. “I take it back. You’re not sweet. You’re bitter like rhubarb. Bitter and sour.”

I dropped my arms to my sides, fists clenched. “Turn the damn music down.”

Inching closer, he sneered down at me. “Pull that stick outta your ass.”

Bastard didn’t know I wasn’t easily intimidated. He could tower and glower all he wanted. When the time came to protect me and mine, my skin was plenty thick, my fuse short. “It’s almost ten PM. City code says that’s quiet time. Don’t make me call the cops.”

“That’s precious. Call the police. I dare you.”

Damn. Joe had me. I wasn’t bitch enough to call the cops and ruin a night of fun for the rest of my neighbors. I scrambled for an appropriate comeback, anything to save face, but I had nothing, and judging by his smirk, he knew my spark had fizzled.

“Okay. Fine,” I said, turning to retreat. “Party away. Have fun. Sorry I bothered you.”

I made it to the bottom porch step before he caught my waist and pulled me flush against his tense muscles. Mouth to my ear, he threatened, “If I didn’t have company, I’d throw you over my shoulder, carry you upstairs, and help you dislodge that stick the old-fashioned way.”

Cue the prickly tingles. “Asshole,” I mumbled, breathy and too damn soft.

Joe chuckled and backed away, leaving me cold, empty, and angry. “Night, neighbor,” he grunted before slamming the door.

I stormed back to my house, crawled into bed, and dialed Lilly.

She answered on the first ring. “Hey, boss. Everything okay?”

“Everything is fine. Sorry for the short notice, but can we switch shifts tomorrow? I have some things I need to take care of in the morning.”

“Sure,” she said without question. One of the many reasons she was invaluable.

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

I ended the call. By the time my head hit the mattress, the noise level had decreased a few decimals at least. The party, however, continued on until the wee hours of the morning.

And that was fine. Gave me plenty of time to plot my revenge.

* * *

Arms waved frantically from the other side of the privacy fence that divided our two backyards. Ignoring the bait for attention, I continued swinging my Ryobi, cutting weeds that weren’t there. Missy Elliot blasted through my earbuds, louder than necessary but vital for keeping my mind in the game.

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