Page 45 of Rebel Revenge

The walls were lined with white shelves, each one laden down with rows and rows of trophies. I pressed up on my toes to read the plaques. “Senior Boys State Champion. Fifty-meter Freestyle record holder.” I moved on to the copious number of ribbons pinned to a huge corkboard. They were predominantly blue for first place, but there were plenty of second and third too. In every event from butterfly to backstroke to relays. “So, the man swims. Explains the bod.”

Like the true snoop I was, I rummaged through his closet, which was stacked with expensive suits and shirts and shoes, though most of them had a fine layer of dust on the shoulders so I suspected they didn’t get worn much. The crumpled shirts and jeans in his duffel bag seemed to be his everyday attire. His en suite was just as opulent as the room attached, with marble sinks and shower. Of course, I opened all the drawers, rolling my eyes when there was little inside other than deodorant and a handful of condoms that had expired years ago. “Probably haven’t needed them for a while since you’re banging that gorgeous, tall, blond wife of yours, huh?” I muttered. “Which, for the record, I am not at all jealous about.”

I frowned at myself in the mirror, no idea why I’d felt the need to add that.

I shifted my plant onto my hip. “Time to go find myself a room, Planty McPlantface. One with lots of sun for you. Or do you need shade? Shit, I can never remember. Plant Protective Services really needs to take you away from me.”

I wondered at what point you checked yourself in for therapy. Was it the point where you talked to your plants as you wandered around a house you’d broken into? A shrink might actually be overdue.

Nevertheless, I closed Vaughn’s bedroom door then deliberately walked the very far end of the hall, wanting my room to be well away from his. It was the sunny end of the house, with light streaming in from a big open window, and I put my plant buddy down on a hall table in a nice, warm patch of sunlight. “Stand guard while I check this out. Shout…or…I don’t know, germinate, if anyone comes.”

I really needed to get a life, but nerves and excitement were making me giddy.

I opened the door to the last bedroom and gasped at how beautiful it was inside. Clearly a guest bedroom, with a big king-size bed and decorated in all neutral tones. But it was full of natural light and absolutely massive. I gazed around and couldn’t help myself. I did a little spin with my arms open wide, like I was freaking Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music.

It was my perfect bedroom. A calm, collected, tidy space where my chaotic ADHD brain felt at ease. I could so easily see myself coming here after a night of noise and craziness at Psychos, and just being at peace with being alone.

I’d never had anything like it. Every other house I’d ever lived in had been a hodgepodge of secondhand furniture that didn’t match, noisy neighbors, and roommates with their own brands of crazy. I flopped onto the bed and had a sudden feeling of ‘home’ for the first time ever. Maybe it was just the fact that this house was mine. Something that could be stable.

If Vaughn would let it be.

I’d come here to try my luck, but half thinking I’d be slinking back to Bliss’s house to sleep on her couch by the end of the night. But in that moment, I knew I’d fight to keep it. Tooth and nail if I had to. This house might mean nothing to him, but a true home was all I’d ever wanted. Here, it was so close I could almost taste it.

I needed to go get all my things and drag them in here so I could hole up and prepare to fight when Vaughn got home. But the extra-large Coke I’d drunk in the car while eating a greasy burger and fries was making demands on my bladder. I hadn’t even checked out the bathroom yet.

There were doors on the left of the room, but they were ajar, and an empty walk-in closet with a small dressing area lay beyond them. A dressing area in a guest bedroom. This house was seriously something else.

But that made the door on the right of the room up for grabs, and I had my fingers crossed for another en suite.

I opened the door.

A scream ripped from my mouth, my reflexes taking in the scene before my brain did.

A huge, very naked man exploded up out of the bathtub with a blood-curdling scream of his own.

And for a very long moment, we both stood there, both of us screaming, neither of us moving.

Except, without any permission from me, my gaze swept over his big body.

Holy, freaking, fuck.

The man was stacked. Muscles for days. Tattoos all over. And his dick…

I’d never seen one more beautiful. Even soft, it was something to be proud of. I couldn’t even imagine what it would look like hard. Christ on a cracker.

He yanked a pair of headphones off and used them to cover the junk I was so rudely staring at.

“Who the hell are you?” we both yelled at the same time.

He got out of the bathtub and came at me.

I screamed and stumbled back again, fear coursing through me at the huge naked man approaching me. To my horror, I found myself frozen in terror, cringing away from him. “Please don’t hurt me.”

He froze, arm stretched out. “I’m just going to get that towel, okay? I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not in the habit of hurting bite-size women, even if they are breaking into my house.”

I goggled at him. “Your house? Isn’t this Bart Weston’s place?”

He took a towel from the rack and wrapped it around his narrow waist, tucking it in at the end. “He lives…shit, lived… here too. I worked for him. Maintenance. Driving. Cleaning. Whatever needs doing. But I’ve no idea why I’m explaining that to you, when I know for a fact you do not live here, and so I should probably call the police. If you’re here to steal shit—”

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