Gunner shook his head quickly. “No way, man.”
I sniffed again, then spotted the pack of cigarettes on the coffee table. “Fuck,” I growled. “You were smoking in my house.” I had finally put my cigarettes down for good about a decade earlier, but I swore it had taken a solid year to get the smell out of everything. And then this prick came along, stinking the whole place up again. “Now you’ve really got it coming.”
Malcolm gulped audibly. “He’s really sorry,” he managed to say.
I shook my head, then pointed a finger at Gunner again. “Do you always have your boyfriend apologize for you?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Gunner said defiantly.
I held my hands in the air. “Well excuse me! And here I thought I was stepping into a very special honeymoon.”
Malcolm kept shaking his head, still trying to hide behind Gunner’s body. “I never should have come here,” he said to himself. “Now I’m going to end up dead or in jail.”
“Naw,” I interrupted, the fear on his face earning a little compassion. “No one’s going to die, and there’s no way in hell I’m calling the cops. But that doesn’t mean I’m letting the two of you off easy. You break into my house and rub your dicks all over my couch, there needs to be consequences.”
Gunner bent down, then snatched a pair of keys off the ground. Putting his hand on Malcolm’s shoulder, he turned away from me. “I’ve got some work clothes in the back of the truck. It’s not like he can force us to stay here.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, it is like that,” I said.
Gunner turned, his eyes blazing. “What are you going to do? Because you try to lay a hand on Malcolm, and I swear to god, I’ll knock you out so quick you won’t even know what happened!”
I didn’t doubt he would try, although I was in no mood to fight some young punk in the middle of my living room. I thought about just letting them go and discover the branch in the path themselves, but from how hotheaded Gunner seemed, he’d probably get himself struck by lightning trying to haul it away. When they turned back toward the front door anyway, I slammed my bottle on the counter.
“Stop right there,” I growled.
Malcolm yelped again, and Gunner spun to face me, grimacing. “It’s going to be the tough way, then,” he said, clenching his fists by his side.
“Fucking hell,” I muttered. “You’re lucky you remind me of myself at your age. Otherwise, I might actually throw you to the wolves.” I headed over to the living room closet, yanking it open and fumbling around inside. “You need to figure out when to keep your damn mouth shut. But no, you just keep giving me more excuses to beat your asses silly and toss you out in the rain.” I spun around, a sheet and a blanket bunched up in my hand.
The guys blinked back at me, and the windows shook with the storm.
“Are you getting us a blanket?” Malcolm asked, clearly confused.
“I’ll tell you what I’ve been doing,” I said, turning toward the back porch. “I’ve been driving my damn motorcycle all over this country for two months. I’ve been steering my way through mountain roads, dreaming of getting home to some peace and quiet.” I opened the door to the porch, and wind shot through the house. “And now, even though I found a couple of lovebirds messing up my house, I’m damn well going to get it.”
“Get what?” Gunner asked.
“Some fucking peace and quiet!” I barked back, tossing the bedding to the porch. “And you’re going to curl up in each other’s arms on this porch and think about what a bad idea it was to break into some stranger’s house, especially when that stranger is an ornery man with more tattoos and scars than you can count.”
Malcolm curled his hand around Gunner’s elbow. “You’re asking us to stay?” He looked so innocently confused I almost laughed to myself.
“I’m not asking you to stay,” I corrected. “I’m telling you that there’s a damn branch in the road and that even if you were stupid enough to try to drive out in this storm, you wouldn’t be able to make it. So I’mtellingyou that you’re staying.” I gestured over my shoulder to the porch with my thumb. “It should stay dry under the back roof, and the hammock is plenty big for both of you.”
Gunner shook his head, and I was pretty sure he was about to turn and run away himself. Then another bolt of lightning crashed through the sky, causing Malcolm to jump against him. When they’d each recovered from the shock, Gunner sighed.
“Are you seriously telling us that we have to sleep on your porch now?”
I smiled, remembering that he had smoked in my house. “That’s right. In about five minutes, you’re going to hear some Rage Against the Machine on the stereo here. I’m going to drink whatever beers you haven’t already got your grubby hands on until I pass out, and you’re going to keep your horny little mouths shut. Got it?”
Malcolm still looked scared shitless, but Gunner must have been realizing I wasn’t going to lose my cool after all. Sucking on his teeth and giving me a good look up and down, he nodded slowly. “There’s a branch blocking the path.”
“That’s right, kid,” I said, grabbing a throw pillow from the chair by the door and tossing it to him. “Date time is over. Now get your asses out of my sight before I change my mind and start showing you what real trouble is.”
They stared at me, dumbfounded, as I grabbed my beer and headed toward the stairs. I took a few steps upward, then turned, giving them one last glance.
“And Gunner?”
“Yeah?”
I pointed at his crotch. “Your dick’s hanging out of your boxers. Have a little respect for yourself, huh?”
