Page 17 of My Three Rivals

I wasn’t so sure he was right, but I didn’t say it aloud. Stifling a sigh, I forced a grin of my own. “I guess I’m going to learn how to make wine,” I conceded.

The other two laughed, and we moved back to let ourselves in the house.

I twisted the knob, but it didn’t budge, and it took me a few seconds to realize what was happening.

The door was locked. Tegan had locked us out.

CHAPTER8

Tegan

Iignored the incessant banging and cursing on the back door as I paced the kitchen, monitoring the incensed trio outside. With a finger in my ear to block out the noise, I spoke into my cell phone.

“Can’t you hear them trying to break down the door?!” I demanded. “Send the police right away!”

“There’s an officer en route, ma’am, but if they own the house, too, you can’t legally lock them out,” the dispatch operator informed me, almost sounding bored.

Flabbergasted, I pulled the device from my face and stared at it like she could see me looking at her. “Did you not hear what I told you before? Three strange men are moving into my house—where I live alone. Ihadto lock them out.”

“I understand your apprehension, ma’am, but you said yourself that they own the house, too.”

I cursed internally for having called the police station at all.

“Never mind.” I disconnected the line, seething, and dialed out again, this time to Bizzy.

She answered on the third ring. “Dare I even ask what’s wrong now?” she yawned.

“Are you sleeping? It’s almost noon!”

“I’m not sleeping anymore,” Bizzy yawned again. “I had to get up to answer the phone, anyway. Why do you sound hysterical?”

“They’rehere.”

“Who?” Bizzy mumbled. “Who’s where?”

“The idiots from Suncrop. They’rehere. Inmyhouse. Well, technically, locked out on my porch right now. But they’re here!”

Bizzy was silent for a second as she tried to catch up.

“What?! Oh… did you call them over like you said last night?”

I had almost forgotten my intentions to make nice with them in light of their brazen and aggressive move.

“NO! They’re moving in! Or they think they are. Bizzy, what the fu—”

“Hold up, hang on,” Bizzy interjected, sounding wide awake now. “You’re not making any sense.”

My eyes darted back toward the French doors, the sheer curtains outlining two of the three men. Blood running cold, I whirled toward the kitchen window, looking for their third companion.

Atticus. He was the one who had broken away from the group and was nowhere to be seen.

“What’s going on?” Bizzy asked, but I was too distracted as I tried to account for Atticus. “Tegan!”

Attempting to multi-task, I strode toward the front of the split-level house, darting down the steps toward the entryway as I answered my cousin’s question.

“They… they came here with suitcases. They think they’re going to move in here.”

Bizzy released a dubious laugh. “Well, that’s dumb… isn’t it? Why would they want to live in that craphole when they probably all live in mansions?”

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