"Well we need to help her with that. In her position, I wouldn't know what the hell to do. She must be feeling really exposed being here with all of us."
Whoever said that at least has some frickin' empathy. At least one of them is tuned into the reality of what is going on for me right now.
"So, who's going to do that?"
"It should be me," a very deep voice says.
"Why? Because you're the oldest?"
"Nah, because I'm the one most likely to get the outcome we're looking for."
"She's not going to be an easy nut to crack, Gordon."
"I never liked anything easy," the same deep voice replies.
"You'll need to start tomorrow."
"I can do that."
"I don't think it should be Gordon. Maggie doesn't need the bull in the china shop approach right now. She's going to need an easier hand, like John or Sean."
"John should do it. Definitely John. Sean is more about charming panties off."
"Is it wrong that I'm so proud of my reputation?" The voice, which must be Sean's, is smooth with a hint of amusement.
"Shut up, Sean. We need to be serious right now."
"I don't agree that John should do it."
"Well, you wouldn't, Gordon."
"Voting for John being the one to help Maggie sorting Dad's room. Hands up if you agree."
There's another rustle as another vote is held. "John wins."
So that's how I find out that someone called John is going to help me sort through my dad's things tomorrow and that someone called Sean is an expert at coaxing panties off. And that someone called Gordon thinks he should be in charge of everything. There are eight other brothers in there, including Harley, who held my hand when I felt like I was going to break apart.
"I've got work to do," Gordon says. There's scraping of a chair against tile that jolts me backward. Is he coming out? What do I do? I look around frantically. I've got to move before I'm discovered.
8
Should I run back upstairs and meet him on the way down, or hide in the den? Maybe I should sit in the den and act like I'm just chilling in this strange house. Would that look natural? I don't even know. As footsteps thud toward me, I spring back, still not sure on what course of action I'm taking. I end up halfway to the stairs when the door creaks as it's yanked open.
I face the man I'm assuming is Gordon like we are two characters in a western, both poised to reach for guns. Except there are no guns here. Just a strange static as this sexy man's gaze drifts over my face and body. He's wondering how long I've been out here and if I heard anything, or maybe he’s just wondering what it would be like to see me after Sean had magically removed my panties like a snake charmer.
I'm wondering what his strong hands would feel like cuffing my wrists and whether he'd be as controlling in bed as he obviously is in real life. Those hands are balled into fists, but I don't think that's because of anything I've done. I get the feeling they're always like that. This man seems coiled tight and pumped with testosterone. If I had to speculate, I'd say he plays tight end. He probably likes being able to defend and attack. I get the feeling he wouldn't like to be restricted to one or the other.
I swear that time moves differently at this moment. It seems to stretch long and thin like taffy, then snap back fast as I realize how much I'm staring at his strong brow that's furrowed and frowny and the dark, swirling network of patterned tattoos wrapping their way around his right arm and dripping down onto his hand.
"Maggie." His voice is gruffer than it was when he was talking to his brothers in the kitchen. The kind of rumbling voice that goes with his beard and hulking form.
"Hi," I practically squeak. "I need to get some water."
"Sure…"
We both go back to standing motionless and staring until the kitchen door opens again and another man emerges. "Maggie."
I don't know who this is, putting me at a total disadvantage. They only have one new name and face to become familiar with. I have eleven.
"She wants water," Gordon mutters, not even turning to see which of his brothers is behind him.
"Maggie wants a glass of water," the brother behind shouts.
A head appears around the door, then another.
If it weren't so awkward, I would laugh. They're like giant meerkats peeking over rocks for predators.
"And maybe some introductions would be good?"
The mouth of the man, I'm assuming to be Gordon, twitches on one side. "Introductions!" His right eyebrow lifts.
"So I know who I'm bumping into in the hallway?" I raise both my eyebrows in challenge. I'm not sure what the big deal is but everything I'm saying seems to be amusing to this man.