Bayou Bishops Box Set: Books 1-12

CHAPTER 4

“No turning back,” Gracie muttered, making her way to the shack with a second cup of coffee. Spook and Maggie had left early to go on some morning ritual according to their note. Probably going have sex in the swamp. How did one not have sex every other hour of the day with a man like Spook around? Not that she knew much about having sex. Last romp was…lordy, with Pete the feet. Ew. Holy cow she hadn’t had sex in over fifteen years!

“Morning,” she called as she took the pier that led toward the small hut. Mercy, very small. “I come in peace with coffee. Assuming you drink it. I’m Maggie’s Aunt Gracie and I figured I’d get introductions out of the way.” She paused at the door, not hearing anything. She looked around. Had he left with them? Gone somewhere else?

She turned as heat crept up her face, feeling like an idiot checking mail on a Sunday. “I guess you’re off somewhere,” she mumbled. “Hunting maybe.” She set the coffee next to the door. “I’ll leave it here for you.” What on earth was she doing? Nobody left coffee at a damn door. “Second thought, there’s all kinds of bugs out here.” Why was she talking out loud like he was hiding just out of sight and listening? “I’ll bring it in and cover it for you for later,” she muttered, heading back the way she came.

She allowed a glance at her surroundings as she went, praying he didn’t pop out of nowhere and scare the shit out of her. The beautiful scenery stole her worry and drew an amazed, “Wow. Beautiful!” Maybe she’d go for a walk later. Maggie said to stay near the house because of wild animals and alligators—Spook’s request. She set the second cup of coffee on the porch rail and took a seat on the swing allowing herself a full breath as she sipped her joe. “Mmmmm-mm that’s good,” she murmured, putting her back to the side of the swing so she could appreciate the view. And boy what a sight. Simply breathtaking. “Un-real,” she muttered, grinning happily. “Great job, God. Bravo. A true showoff you are.”

She aimed her smile at her fashion wisdom. Her long, flowy cotton pants and matching top gave the appearance of a modest dress while having the practicality of a two piece. She’d gotten two and the third free. A pink, a mint green, and a white. She’d chosen the mint green after a teenage amount of deliberation.

Having the two piece ensemble was important in a place where you might need to run for your life. She pushed off the urge to find her reflection. Maggie had laughed about her hair joke, but it was one hundred and one percent truth. Her hair did not ride well in a boat even with it up. She had naturally curly hair, kinky by some standards. Her hair was the either-or kind. Either it looked wonderful, or it just made you wonder.

Realizing she might be enduring boat rides out of the blue, she decided to lock it down in a Rapunzel braid. She didn’t believe in cutting her hair and even in a braid it reached her butt. Hanging loose, it reached the end of her butt. And wet, another six inches past that.

Something moved in the forest, and she lowered her feet to the porch, stopping the swing. Dammit, her camera was inside.

She carefully set her coffee cup down on the swing then again went completely still. “Ohhhh my,” she barely whispered as a man made his way toward the small shack. “Oh dear God in heaven is that…” Her eyes consumed the giant barbarian of a man, stuck on his glistening tattoos over the biggest muscles she’d ever seen in her entire life. In person!

He entered the little shack, and she released her breath while realizing he hadn’t even look her way. Had he not seen her? She was being very still, he could’ve missed her. Maybe he saw and ignored.

What had he been doing? He’d looked wet and shiny. Maybe swimming? Sweating? From what? He didn’t seem the type to go for a morning jog. More like a morning killing spree.

Probably hunting, she decided, being realistic. She didn’t recall seeing a catch. How would she with all those sweaty muscles and tattoos on display? She waited for him to come back out. Maybe she should go offer him that cup of coffee. He could be getting cleaned up. Was there even a bathroom in that room?

She should just leave him be. Mind her own business. She considered what else she could be doing or should be. The house was spotless. Maybe she could cook. Yes, that was it. And if he was still around she’d offer to share. The door to his hut opened and she again froze. She watched as he hauled a small bed out of the door and placed it along the outer wall. Probably liked sleeping outside. Poor Maggie had a hard time not telling her his private details and she remembered the one of him living in the wild. Her eyes locked on those pants he wore. They appeared made out of some type of leather. Clearly easy to move in even while being perfectly fitted.

Geeze she was feeling like a voyeur now that it was apparent he didn’t know she was there. Probably thought she’d left with Maggie and Spook come to think of it. Why would they leave her here alone? With him?

“Morning,” she called, standing and making her way to the steps. He turned a brutally handsome face to her with the most brilliant blue eyes. “I uh…” Holy mother of mercy. “Brought you coffee earlier but you were…wherever you were.” She held his cup up to prove it then set it back down when he only continued staring. “Were you hunting? My name’s Gracie,” she went on, making her way down the step then sitting on them and holding tight to her cordial smile while he gawked on at her. She began to panic when it was evident he had no social skills what so ever and might be unsure what to do.

She decided to go the extra million miles and made her way down the pier, making small talk along the way while under his scrutiny. At the second pier leading to his shack, she asked, “Do you even drink coffee? I can make a fresh pot.” She looked toward the woods, silently begging him to say something.

He didn’t.

“Okay well,” she began, keeping her gaze on the trees. “I guess Maggie and Spook will be back soon. They left a note. Said they had some…morning chore to do. Told me not to wander off. Because of the wild animals. I haven’t seen any yet.” She chanced a look at him, finding him still staring. “Think I’ll get my camera and take some pictures. It is truly beautiful out here. My first time in a swamp. I’m from California,” she explained, nearly collapsing in relief when he returned to doing whatever he’d been up to before she interrupted. She tried to make out what that was through the open door. “Guess I’ll talk to you later. Or not,” she muttered.

“Why are you here?” he asked while still inside.

“I’m…here spending time with my nieces. We just found out that their father died. My brother. Half brother. And you? What…brings you to this side of the swamp?” She hadn’t been told that part, thankfully.

“Business.”

His mutter was deep and still from inside. She nodded. “What line of work are you in?”

He suddenly appeared in the doorway and leaned his huge shoulder against it, those vivid blue eyes locked on her again. “Just living,” he said.

She couldn’t keep her eyes off his chest so why not talk about it. “You always walk around…” Shit, the half-naked word wouldn’t do. “Shirtless?” God, how awkward.

“Yes.”

His answer was as even as they come.

“Does it bother you?”

“No, no,” she said lightly, tearing her gaze off the tattooed muscle feast. “If that’s how you live, then don’t change that on my account.” She remembered what he did for business. “So, you live for a living? I like that.”

“Why?” he asked, genuine as could be.

She crossed her arms over her midsection. “Well because…living is a good thing to be a pro at.”

“I’m not a pro.”

“I don’t know why I said that.” She looked down, hiding the heat creeping up her face.

“And…what do you do for a living?”

The forced question made her feel even more disgusting. He was clearly making himself be social. “I’m crazy for a living,” she joked, watching it go right over his head.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’m being silly. I’m retired, I guess. Lived at a home before this. A place where eccentric people pay doctors to tell them they’re too eccentric for society and you pretend to listen all while knowing you’re there because you like the people who live at it so much you don’t wanna leave.”

“You’re crazy?” he asked, like that might be an interesting line of work.

She had to laugh. “To many I am.”

“And to you?”

“Well…no. I’m entirely sane. I’m just different.”

He sat on the bed now on the outside wall, seeming eager to dissect her under his microscope. She decided that was a better direction than before. Maybe. “How do you think you are different?”

All her quick, witty answers were nowhere to be found. She couldn’t recall ever being asked that question, just always told she was. She’d accepted it. Embraced it. “I’m honest to a fault,” she remembered.

He seemed to consider that. “How is honesty a fault?” he asked, disrupting her search for more crazy symptoms.

“Well, it’s not always prudent to be honest. There’s a time and a place and I tend to disregard both.”

“I can see how that would be a problem. But it doesn’t make you crazy.”

His hard stare on her was sure making her feel crazy. But there wasn’t a drop of sexual anything in it that she could detect, and she was damn good at detecting that. Naturally, the one she wanted to have that look on her didn’t. Usually, she was defensive with most men with the roving eyeball on the sex parts but that wasn’t him. And yet she found herself defensive about it in a whole new way. He was more like a child without a filter with pure intent. In a body so barbaric she could feel timeless hormones being unlocked from her feminine prison, ready to be taken and used however he might like. Mercy, was she sweating?

Forward into those waters was where she would surely go even while terrified. Was like being drawn to a flame you couldn’t resist. All you could do was brace for what you knew was coming and pray you didn’t die. “What about you?” she shoved out of her lungs. “You’re different from most people.”

Lord, all that laser beam staring. “Am I?” He finally looked at something besides her, giving her breathing room.

She wondered how he felt about her observation then began to worry. “Well to me you are. I’m just one person though. One in a billion. I can only say in all honesty I have never seen a man such as yourself.”

He placed his palms on the bed and leaned back, unintentionally turning himself into a straight up sex offering. Her mind was suddenly being controlled by some ancient harlotry she wasn’t familiar with. She was staring and staring until shame and lust were shoving one another for control while he just sat there and watched it all.

Imagining what she must look like gave her the embarrassing power to force her eyes shut. She held them tight that way. Get ahold of yourself. This is not you. See him as…a son for crying out loud. “How long have you…been out of society?” she blurted, lost as to whose volley it was in the world’s most embarrassing talk tournament.

“Thirty-nine years,” he said, causing her eyes to pop open right on his.

Shame ran her in circles as she bumbled out, “Sorry, I did not ask her for all that information.” She shifted on her feet and adjusted her hold on her midsection. “I am nosy, and I do like all the details but that was one I had not asked.”

Lord he was back to scrutinizing her. “Which ones did you ask?”

There was a mix of accusation in that one and she was tempted to lie of all things. She never lied. She surely never cared about disappointing a man, but this was no ordinary man. An exception was allowed. “Well, I didn’t need to ask if you were alone, that was given on the spot. I did ask if you were part of The Twelve and…their whole…marriage thing.”

“Marriage thing?”

Took five prayers to drag her gaze to the safety of the trees with a flippant sigh as she struggled for ideas to backtrack out of that. “Seems they have all decided to get hitched. The Belle Eveque—my niece—,” she said to the forest, “has convinced them that having a woman completes them. That for all their strength they will never reach their full potential without being bound to nature’s counterpart for them.” She let out a laugh of absurdity even though she found her nieces logic quite sound and even romantic.

“I will never marry.”

Felt like he’d taken her head plumb off with that brutal confession. It seemed to flip a switch in her head. The headless emergency switch where your mouth speaks pre-recorded nonsense while flailing about. What a wreck this was. “Well, I surely don’t blame you there,” her auto-pilot self said.

“You’ve never been married?”

She gave a way too loud laugh with a head shake. “Never. Don’t plan on it, either. Not sure what the big fuss is about. People have sex and hook up before getting to know the person then find out they’re nothing but human tumors you’re stuck with for life.”

He didn’t even crack a smile at her half joke. His barbaric skin was hard as nails. Matched the rest of him though. “You don’t agree with your niece? That you’re a missing counterpart to a male?”

Her mouth opened then stayed that way as she squirmed under the sudden left field check in their game of talk. “I guess I don’t,” she decided to go with, feeling like a second of silence more was worse than the wrong answer.

“You’re not sure?”

“Sure about what?” she returned, buying a few seconds to get her head back in the game.

“If you’re a counterpart to another male.”

Hell if she wasn’t more lost. “I had one cup of coffee, and my neurons are not fully firing,” she quivered out. “Could you…repeat the question?”

He didn’t repeat anything except that stare while she continued to have no idea what was appropriate or smart. “It’s not my business,” he finally said even as his eyes remained locked onto her. And all she could do was stand there, imprisoned.

****

Ruckus needed to quit toying with the woman. He hadn’t looked forward to socializing and saw her as an opportunity to practice. But once engaged, her contradictions became a puzzle of questions that only confused him and required him to solve. The biggest enigma was how everything out of her mouth disagreed with her body. He was accustomed to reading the simple and direct sexual dynamic in the animal kingdom. She surely wanted to mate with a male and yet hid that with her words. Now he was curious why she felt the need to do that. He’d mostly needed to know how these swamp people saw such things, but she wasn’t even from there. He decided to take general female notes at the very least.

He was still trying to locate evidence that she was crazy. Was as if she’d encountered the Lazarus curse and he’d whispered lies in her ear that she now believed and self-manifested in her own head. His observation skills were only finding things that would require him to touch and untangle the mess standing before him. At least she was beautiful to look at. But why was she pretending she didn’t want to mate when she clearly did? That was becoming the main point of focus for him. He trusted his instincts that said knowing the answer to that would clear up all the rest of the confusion. He had to be careful not to spook her and lose the information he needed though. She reminded him of a pretty red bird caught in its own snare, which was him. She silently struggled to get free even as he did nothing to trap or keep her. That alone was fascinating to watch. Maybe cruel but he didn’t see any real harm in it.

He”d asked if she didn’t think of herself as a counterpart to a male and she immediately turned it into another snare. He’d tried to help her out of it by saying it wasn’t his business and to his astonishment, she was more trapped than before. She was quickly becoming an enigma he wanted to study but that required him to cause more of the same to see just how tangled up she was in her head.

She needed a snatch-and-save, he realized. Sometimes animals got trapped in snares of their own making then panicked to get free, entangling themselves worse. There was nothing to do in those cases but subdue the animal long enough to set it free. Then they’d fly away and get back to living. Realizing his silence was somewhat deadly to her, he went in for that snatch-and-save. “Your body says it wants to be a counterpart to a male and your mouth says it doesn’t.”

The snatch seemed to hit all her panic buttons but her reaction to it wasn’t fight or flight, it was freezing. The only animal he knew to do that was a possum. “Do you think something is wrong with wanting to mate with a male?”

It wasn’t a full snatch and release but with her, it seemed opening the door was the best route in avoiding damage to those beautiful feathers of hers. But even with the door open she seemed to retreat further into the snare. “It’s natural,” he helped.

He watched in fascination as she suddenly hurried out the open door he’d provided and raced to the house. He let out a breath when the door shut before shaking his head. Saving humans from themselves was a lot more difficult than saving animals. He realized he knew this already and didn’t care to recall how he knew it. Lesson remembered and duly noted. Don’t try and save humans from the messes they make for themselves. Best to let the mess teach them.

****

Gracie paced up and down in the kitchen unable to think or see straight. She paused long enough to hold up her right hand and watch it shake. Wow. Last time she shook like that was during cocaine withdrawals. And over a man? Sure, he was the cutest hunk in the universe, but he was still just a man.

She didn’t even like men! They were arrogant, pigheaded, shallow know-it-alls. And the ones that weren’t were…fucking gay usually. Or unhappily married.

But not him. He was happily unmarried. His masculinity was brutal, it practically raped her without her even realizing it!

She paused and covered her face with a moan of shame as his words burned through her brain again. Your body says it wants to be a counterpart to a male, but your mouth says the opposite.

Oh God, what exactly had she looked like out there? She shook her head, not wanting to know, waving off her brain’s attempt to recreate a pathetic slutty version of herself. She couldn’t trust her brain. Or herself. Of course it sabotaged her, that’s what it was preprogrammed to do. Do you think something is wrong with wanting to mate with a male?

Like she was a fucking dummy!

It’s natural, he just had to say. She wanted that to be egotistic or chauvinistic. Anything but what she knew it was. Just an impossibly gorgeous man who should only exist in fiction being utterly out of the socializing loop. That was it.

She came to a gasping halt in her kitchen laps. She’d walked off without answering a word! Could it get anymore cringy? She made a beeline for the door at wondering if he thought she wanted him. Mr. Never Marrying.

She wasn’t one to ever lie but she loaded her tongue up with some doozies as she headed out to reset the record.

“Excuse me, Ruckus,” she decided to call from the same spot on the pier.

He appeared in the open door, looking…something. She focused on the point of her short visit. “I need you to know that I am mature enough to accept facts about myself. I’m a woman. I no doubt display…sexual signals, we’re creatures of nature after all. But honestly, I don’t even pay attention to them. I mean…they will do what they do, but that doesn’t mean I act on them,” she assured with an affirming finger in the air. “I’m accustomed to having run-ins with males where these signals fly and I’m also accustomed to not acting on any of them because I don’t want to. Me, up here, that is,” she pointed to her head. “Not this,” she quickly referred to her body with a messy finger fling. “We are not just sexual creatures, we’re also spiritual creatures and of course our sexual sides will not always agree with our spiritual side. Mine don’t. So, whatever you saw, whatever signals I gave off, I agree, completely natural. But acting on them is a big no for me. I do not do that, thank you very much. I haven’t had…” she barely caught herself. “I haven’t had enough coffee this morning and I’m going now to rectify that.” She took off down the pier and turned to add, “I hope I didn’t offend you, this is just me being honest and wanting you to know I’m not going to act on anything you see that I may not even be aware of.”

She returned to hurrying back to the porch then stopped again on the steps. “And I’ll be cooking breakfast if you’re hungry.” She went inside, wanting him to know there were no hard feelings and nothing needed to be awkward. So why were her cheeks on fire with shame still? Because you were seen and rejected by the first man you wanted with everything in you, her brain ruthlessly said, thanks to her commitment of being straight-up about everything.

Fine. She was rejected. It was just a rejection. She dished out those all the time. Surely if she could give it she could receive it.

****

Ruckus sat on the chair in the little shack, whittling an apology to Miss Gracie while the smell of food said it was time to eat. He blew on the piece of wood, shaping the wings on the bird sculpture with the tip of his knife. She’d admitted to the truth which was impressive given her proud personality. He still wondered what she’d nearly said when she caught herself. She hadn’t had something. A boyfriend? Sex? The opportunity? Her sexual spiritual conclusions didn’t make much sense to him. He’d long ago brought his sexual appetites under his strict control. His body served his mind, and both had no need for sex. But his existence not only allowed for that, it also demanded it. He didn’t have control over many things, but he had no intentions of providing offspring for evil to target. The wicked things he carried would go straight to hell with him.

He finished the last details on the bird as her footsteps sounded on the pier. He wondered again why her body and spirit were on opposite paths. She’d mentioned sex and human tumors for life but was that more contradictions? Now that he knew she had the sense not to act on her oblivious sexual signals, he might manage to learn more from her. And maybe even teach her a few things. Like how to hide those sexual signals better. For one, don’t wear clothing that shows your sexual parts beneath. The material was thin and sheer enough for him to make out everything that would appeal to a sexual appetite.

“Ruckus? I have a plate of food for you.”

He stood and met her on the porch, taking the plate and handing her the apology.

“What’s this?” she asked, aiming a smile up at him.

“An apology,” he said, studying the aura around her. It was different than the other girl’s but similar. Compelling in a different way.

She gave a small gasp, turning it over in her hands. “You did this? Just now?”

“Yes.”

“And all I made you was food.”

He sat on the bed with the plate covered in that shiny metal he couldn’t recall the name of. “Food is life. That’s just a dead piece of wood.”

He stared down at the plate, recognizing eggs and onions and some pieces of meat maybe.

“All I could find was lunch meat and eggs and some veggies. And cheese,” she added. “I’m not real big on cooking but I am at scrambling things. Well…I’ll let you eat.”

He realized his opportunity to practice socializing would end sooner than he needed. “Stay,” he said.

She paused then took a seat on the opposite side of the bed. He wanted to let her know her sexual signals weren’t blaring which meant she was learning to subdue them. But the way she obeyed him reflexively was purely sexually submissive instinct. Not a bad trait in the right situation. It made him wonder how she managed to avoid mating. Her interactions with the male species was one hell of a mess to behold. He had to wonder how many women behaved this way. Was it common or was it just her? He wagered common. The women in the coven were trained for a job so he never used those experiences to know what was normal and natural female behavior. And until very recently he had no need to know or care.

“Wonder where Maggie and Spook went off to?” she mused while he ate all the food in under a minute then set the plate on the pier next to the bed.

“You liked it?” she wondered.

He nodded.

“Normally you would say thank you.”

He regarded her, realizing she was helping him. “Thank you.”

“I mean I know you’ve been out of the loop for a while and can use a few pointers.”

“I would like that,” he said at the direct offer to get what he’d been discreetly digging for.

She nodded, intentionally avoiding looking at him. Working on those signals maybe. “Okay. Well…” she said, bringing her hands together for an odd finger dance. “Surely don’t give sexual pointers to women. That would be considered…over the line. I mean you saw what it did to me and I’m from Cali, we can handle a lot.”

“Sorry,” he said, not sure what other word was appropriate. “Thank you. For helping me,” he clarified.

“And thank you for helping me,” she said, looking down at her hands. “Nobody has ever been so frank for the intention of helping me. I think I died of shame and I’m sitting here as a ghost, though.”

He regarded her along with the odd laugh she gave. He waited for other words besides sorry and thank you to present themselves.

“And that silence,” she said, wagging her finger at him. “It’s called an awkward silence. Happens when you’re talking about things that makes a person uneasy and nothing is said. Not good for socializing. Which is why you want to keep conversation to easy things like the weather or food. Things everybody has in common. Besides sexuality,” she hurried with that odd laugh again.

“You’re still embarrassed,” he realized. “Guess it’s a bad sign when sorry is my most used word.”

Her laughter burst out and she stifled it. “Now it’s my turn to use the word. I didn’t mean to laugh at you, but you have a valid point. I should know, at one time sorry was my middle name, only I never used the word. But you don’t have to use the word to feel it.”

“Why didn’t you use it?” he wondered, curious.

She shrugged a little. “Pride.”

Hmm. “That’s an admirable admission.”

She gave a sputtered noise. “I didn’t admit that to be admired.”

He stared at her, realizing when he did that, she got uncomfortable. “I know you didn’t. That’s what makes it admirable.”

“Well, thank you,” she muttered.

He realized then. “I need to say things that evoke the thank you response from others.”

She smiled and nodded, giving a real laugh. “That’s a good idea. Leave the apology making to me, I’m used to it.”

He wondered then. “Are you…headed to the main house as they call it? We have a meeting tonight there.”

“I’m guessing I am,” she said. “Not sure what I’m here for other than being the crazy aunt that needs babysitting before I bring the devil down on everybody’s head because I say the wrong things to the wrong people at the wrong time. It’s a gift.”

She again reminded him he was capable of humor still.

“You find that funny?”

“I do.”

“Well, I find it refreshing to hang around a man that isn’t sexually scheming me into bed.”

Interesting. “Is that what men usually do around you?”

“Oh yes,” she assured with many nods, wide-eyeing the pier at her feet.

“I may have a tip for you there.”

She turned at that, half facing him. “I can use all the help in that department.”

“Learning to subdue your sexual signals requires you to be aware of them. Starting from the clothes you wear. The material you have on is thin and sheer, showing the outlines of your sexual parts. These are signals men read and act on. I have signals I use to attract animals when hunting. It’s the same as that.”

She looked down at her clothes. “See through? I checked!”

“Maybe you didn’t have enough light to see it.”

She gave a gasp. “I’m…speechless as you can see. And just for pointers, you never want to tell a woman this if you don’t want to be smacked.”

“Another sorry on the score board for me,” he muttered.

“Well, it’s good you get all your mistakes out now rather than in public. Not that telling me that was a mistake, it’s just…embarrassing. I didn’t even realize. Oh God, what is it showing?”

“The entire shape of your breast and the exact outline of your undergarments.”

Was like he’d slapped her. “Another sorry,” he said, shaking his head.

“No, I’m just shocked and…oh God, embarrassed! I should be thanking you.”

“And since you’re not, I’m guessing this is a poor timing thing.”

She was nodding a lot before gushing a “Yes. And now you’ll need to be inside when I get up and walk away.”

“I don’t see it as sexual,” he said. “But other men would.”

“And why don’t you?”

“Because I subdued my sexuality to serve my decision to never marry.”

“And…why is that if you care to say?”

“I live alone. I’ll always live alone.”

“Why?”

Her soft tone drew his gaze toward her. “Because of who I am.”

“Guess I didn’t get that detail about you,” she said quietly.

It was the single thing he wouldn’t have minded them telling her. “I’m a resister. I belonged to a satanic coven up till I was fifteen. I left my coven when I had a son. I was in line to be a high priest. I ran with him and found a woman to raise him in these swamps then hid him and myself so they could never find us.”

He usually never cared what people thought of his actions outside his own son. He looked at her, needing to read what he saw in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Ruckus,” she finally said before looking confused. “It must’ve been so hard giving up your son like that. Did you get to see him at all?”

“Rarely. I couldn’t risk getting too close to him. The things in me have a way of finding the things in him. He was special.”

“Of course he was,” she said, her voice a whisp of silk in his mind that soothed him. “Like you.”

He regarded her and shook his head. “Nothing like me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ruckus, please. You’re going to sit here and tell me you’re all bad while telling me you risked your life to save your son because he was good? Speaking of being blind to the signals you give off,” she said, wagging a finger at him. “You, mister, are guilty.”

“More like misunderstood.”

She rolled her eyes again, only this time they landed on him with disbelieving raised brows. “Really. So, all this goodness you’re showing me is just misunderstood?”

“It’s just facts.”

“That you don’t have to give.”

“No but I’m a fair person. You’re helping me and I’m helping you back.”

“Oh, is that what this is? Tit for tat?” She leaned away, the look on her face contradicting the scold in her tone. She returned to her normal sitting posture, looking forward. “You don’t want to do that Mr. Ruckus.”

Mr. Ruckus. The formal title was very odd to him. But at the same time, he didn’t mind with her. “Do what?”

“Get into a tit for tat with me. In anything.”

The playful challenge in her tone made him grin. “You’re entertaining,” he said.

She shoved him and the brief physical contact put him on his feet on high alert. Not wanting to ruin the groundwork he’d laid with the only social connection he had, he handed her the plate. “I need to get ready for whatever’s coming. Thank you for the food. I’ll cook for you next time,” he thought to add.

“Guess that’s your tat,” she said, taking the plate. “You better get ready for my tit, it’ll be a big one. Oh dear God, that came out wrong.” His grin grew as she shooed him into the shack. “And no looking. I don’t care that you’re Mr. Never Ever Marry.”

Ruckus’s rebellion kicked in and he did exactly what she ordered him not to do. Even with her hands clasped at her buttocks as she hurried, he saw. He even let himself take notes. He discovered his little odd bird friend was even more beautiful beneath her ever-ruffled pretty feathers.