“Hey!” I yelled from my chair in the far corner. “Hold on a damn minute.” My anxiety screamed at me to shut up, that I wasn’t strong enough to handle the conflict. I disagreed with my anxiety. “I didn't swing anything at anybody.” I stood and pointed at the giant. “And you said yourself you forgot the alarm, too. Were you also distracted by my big eyes and shinyhair?”
He opened his mouth to respond, but I wasn't finished. “And for the record, Mr. Sensitivity, when you call a woman curvy, what she hears is that you're being politically correct—or whatever—and what you really mean isfat!” By the time I screamed the last word, my anxiety had won the battle and breathing was difficult. I knew damn well I wasn't fat, but my anxiety wasn’t rational, and it didn't leave much room for being reasonable. The few pounds I'd put on over the holidays weighed heavily on my mind as well as myass.
Ellion found his voice. “Nice going, Griffin, youasshole.”
He walked toward me, arms out for a hug, but I'd had enough of all three of them for a while. I needed some alone time, so I turned and stomped out of the room, spine straight and head thrown back. I didn't turn fast enough to miss the hurt on Ellion's face, though. Once I was in the hall, I let my bravado fall. I felt like ajerk.
The dreaded bedroom was the only place I could go for privacy, unless I wanted to hide in the bathroom. Halfway to my room, I remembered Griffin's invitation. Maybe I'd get lucky and they wouldn’t think to search for me in there. They’d probably assume I'd be inbed.
I ran into the flowered nightmare of a bedroom to grab the book I was halfway finished with then ran on my tiptoes to the library before I could becaught.
Amanda was a genius. Since bookshelves lined every wall, a freestanding gas fireplace stood beside an overstuffed recliner and couch on the opposite side from the door to the barn. I poked around in an ottoman and found fluffy throw blankets. The recliner called my name, so I wrapped myself up in two blankets and curled up to finish my book. Might as well read my anxiety away. I hoped Amanda was happy to see someone enjoying the fruits of herlabors.
I was engrossed in the story when a noise intruded into my fantasy world. I gazed around the library with the fog of the story over my mind. A rustling behind me cleared the fuzziness instantly. I stiffened, sitting up in therecliner.
“Whoever is there, I'm armed.” I wasn't. “I won't hesitate to shoot you.” Or throw my book at them, whatever. I scooted forward in the recliner, ready to launch myself out ofit.
Someone pulled on the back of the chair. I jumped out of my skin and twisted around, standing up as I went. When I saw who it was, I collapsed in the floor laughing in relief. A fat tabby cat stared at me and rocked back and forth on the back of the recliner. He was irritated by mypresence.
“Hello, big guy,” I said, chuckling. “Where’ve you been hiding? As long as I've been here, I haven't seen hide nor hair of you.” I hadn't noticed any cat hair in the house at all. I wondered again which of the guys was the excellenthousekeeper.
He yowled at me before balancing on the back of the rocking recliner and stretching. I stood and approached cautiously and let him sniff my hand so I could pet his head. His purring let me know he was okay with mypresence.
I burrowed back into my blankets on the recliner and dove back into my book, barely noticing when the heavy kitty curled himself into a ball on my feet. His warmth and purrs soothed my nerves. Between him and the humor of the book, I felt better in notime.
Several chapters later, a tap on the door brought me out of my storyagain.
Chandler stuck his head in the door. “Can I comein?”
When I nodded, he walked in and splayed out on the couch. “I see you metShakespeare.”
The kitty twisted his ears at the mention of his name but otherwise didn't move from his position on myfeet.
“He's a sweetie,” I murmured as I stroked hisears.
Chandler turned around. “Shakespeare? A sweetie? He's a reclusive asshole. We go days at a time without seeing him. He was Amanda's cat and hasn't been the same since she died.” He settled back on the couch, arms behind his head. “You feelbetter?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Shakespeare and my book calmed me. Is Ellionokay?”
His feet jiggled. He was a fellow leg shaker, like me. I drove my brothers crazy, constantly bouncing one leg or another, whether I was sitting or lying. “He's okay. He wears his heart on his sleeve.” He curled his spine so he watched me upside down. “Be nice tohim.”
“I will. I'll go find him soon. Did you have to look for me long?” Iasked.
“We never lost you. Cameras,remember?”
My mouth dropped open. “Are there cameras in every room?” There better not be, Ithought.
“Not the bedrooms or bathrooms. Every other room,yes.”
I tried to remember if I'd picked my nose or otherwise embarrassed myself while in one of the filmed rooms. I couldn't remember for sure, but I didn't thinkso.
“We've not been monitoring them properly since you've been here, but they're recorded. Ellion is watching footage right now of the barn to see what Hunter was up to all thattime.”
“I assume you set the alarm on the house thistime?”
Chandler chuckled ruefully. “Yeah, it's armed to the teeth. No outer doors or windows will open without us knowingit.”
“Good. I'm going to go find Ellion, do youcare?”
