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Chapter 2

I’d rather ask for forgiveness than permission.

-Rule of thumb

Aspen

“No, no, no,” I cried, watching as the smoke started to pour out of the open oven door. “Why? Whyyyy?” My questioning exclamation came out in a pitifully whiny and frustrated twang that I just couldn’t help.

Today was New Year’s Eve, seven days after my asshole ex got me put on house arrest, and I was going stir crazy.

I’d cleaned everything, top to bottom, and the house was immaculate now. There wasn’t one thing I would need to clean for at least a month.

However, now I needed to focus on getting the smoke out, or I might suffocate to death in my own house.

Walking to the window above the kitchen sink, I pushed it out and open.

The smoke billowed out, and I was amazed at just how much smoke one little turkey could produce.

“Surely, it can’t be that bad,” I murmured to myself, coughing slightly when I pushed further into the kitchen to come to a stop in front of the stove.

I grabbed the oven mitts beside the oven, thrust my hands into them, and then bent over to grab the turkey from the oven.

It was heavy.

Really heavy.

But I managed to finagle it out and onto the kitchen counter without too much fuss.

It was then I got my first good look at the turkey.

“Black’s probably not okay to eat,” a man said from behind me.

I gasped, turning around to see a man in full turn out fire gear behind me and right behind him were two more.

The one closest to me, though, was my newest neighbor. The one I couldn’t stop thinking about.

The one who was currently staring at my ass.

“What are you doing in here?” I asked warily, backing my ass up against the counter so he could no longer see my cheeks.

The dastardly man smiled.

Fucking smiled!

“You have smoke coming out of your house,” he said as if he was talking to a child. “Smoke, where we come from, means fire. Fire means the fire department comes. Right?”

I glared at him.

“Nothing’s on fire,” I muttered darkly.

“Well, we didn’t know that, and your door was hanging wide open, so…” he shrugged.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“So you just decided to come in without my explicit permission?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and glaring at the man.

“Jesus Christ. Ridley, where the fuck are you?” Downy, my brother, yelled from somewhere beyond the kitchen.