Bayou Bishops Box Set: Books 1-12

CHAPTER 3

Patches checked his phone, not surprised to find a Texas Tegan text.

You got lost bubba? Not nice to leave the volunteer dripping wet with strangers.

Shit. He got going on the swamp dragon, texting once he was on a straight away. Sorry, one of our brothers needed some help. Headed back now. I’ll need you to help me round up some of my patients that will be staying at the hospital during the hurricane. You game?

His phone buzzed in his hand, and he glanced at it. Happy to help however I can.

Nice. Nice, he decided to text.

He put the phone between his legs and picked it up again, adding, Thanks.

He pulled up Sarah and texted. I got called to another emergency. Will be picking up our patients. Can you please double check that the rooms are ready? And did that order of delivery kits make it? Thanks.

His phone buzzed before he could set it between his legs. Sarah, no doubt. She somehow always managed to return a text within record time. At first it was convenient, now it was a little…something else. As a date option, she checked all the important boxes. Dependable. Simple. Easy to work with. Liked working at the hospital. Would be like having a second him if he trained her. And he needed several of hims. And she was easy on the eyes. Nothing too pretty which was just right. He didn’t need distractions in his line of work.

His mind strayed to Texas Tegan. The surprise that didn’t stop surprising. He’d had to leave before he could introduce her. He also escaped watching his brothers trip on their dicks around her. Another beautiful outsider to distract the men of the swamp who should be marrying women of the swamp.

Their lives weren’t short of unexpected twists in the road lately. Why stop now? At this rate, there’d be two brothers left for marrying. What did this say about preserving their ways? Not a hell of a lot. Grand Pier was not happy with how that was going. Nor would he be happy when Patches required him to come back with him. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was too old to be left alone in a hurricane and Patches couldn’t stay with him. There was no time to bring Texas Tegan anywhere but with him. Volunteer work started now. She could hopefully sweet talk them onto the boat faster. Or just talk them onto the boat.

Without warning, his mind filled with the clearest vision of her black bra under her wet shirt. Dr. Dirty Water. He grinned as he slowed the swamp dragon and took the last turn to the Basilique dock. Mr. October. He was used to women wanting him, but none had ever gotten right in his face about it. She’d literally felt him when he helped her onto the boat. There was no need to hate it since she wasn’t there for long while doing them all a huge favor. He really needed to pay her back somehow for that.

His mind wasn’t done thinking of the Tegan details. Like her mouth. Her greatest weapon. Not just because of the sheer amount of words that exited it, but the distracting perfection of those lips. And smile. Maybe one of the non-twelve brothers would keep her company. They didn’t care a lick about traditions and customs. No, she was in his care while there. He’d have to watch she didn’t find trouble or trouble didn’t find her. Especially with that fucking war looming. They were looking for leverage and she was just the kind he didn’t want to provide.

She’d need to stay close while there. After the hurricane, she could go wherever she wanted with whoever she wanted. He was sure Jek had an interest in her already. They were likely fighting over her or placing bets. Once the Twelve got a hold of her, they’d be rolling the fate dice.

He hopped onto the pier after docking the swamp dragon and hurried toward the Basilique to find somebody with the keys to the water taxi.

The first thing his eyes landed on when he cleared the path was Tegan. The red sun dress and cowgirl boots in the midst of the Twelve was kind of impossible to miss. She spotted him and gave a smile that turned up all the wrong settings in him. Yeah, she was definitely going to be a distraction. And not just for the Twelve.

As she hurried toward him in that sassy Texas stride, another revelation bit him in his dick. That bra he’d seen under her shirt was as fake as that confidence she strutted in. The real deal was two perfect, energetic mounds dancing to the seductive sway of her hips for all eyes to see. He barely managed to tear his eyes off them before locking onto her face. From the frying pan into the fire with those curved lips. Had he just fallen in complete lust between the dock and the path leading to the Basilique?

Welcome to the world of the non-celibate.

He realized what was missing. The all too perfect details of her ass and hips and pussy in those wicked jeans she’d come in. God help the man who would have to contend with the entire package that she was.

That’s kinda fucking you, Dr. Dirty Water.

It wouldn’t be the first bite in the ass in the absence of his celibacy collar. They were coming more frequently the longer he lived without it. He was no stranger to taking care of his own needs, he’d had plenty practice before he’d gotten control over his urges when he first took that vow. He’d have to open that dirty little room back up if he was going to avoid following his all-too-willing cock into the wrong temptations.

“You ready?” she said, breathless when she reached him, brown eyes sparking. “You like my dress? I never wear dresses you should know. But I’m glad I am, it hides my fat ass.”

God, fuck. “Uh…yeah, ready. You?”

“Since you left, I’ve been ready,” she muttered, sharing his distaste for socializing. “How many people are we picking up?”

“Three pregnant mothers, and a couple elderly who have pacemakers, and my Grand Pier.”

She sucked in a breath, and he looked at her, the sound kicking his brain back to X-rated. “I heard about him from Juliette.”

Juliette. “She was here?”

“Yes, and we had a nice chat about all the stuff you said I could talk to her about. The alligators? And I found out some interesting things about the Twelve.”

Oh boy.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were one?” she asked, like he’d betrayed her.

“Why would I?” he wondered.

“Sooooo, I hear you’re gonna be dating three whole women that you picked to marry?”

“Three whole women?”

She giggled. “It’s a sayin’. Just means you’re doing something really big, and the whole thing.”

He suddenly stopped and she did too a step ahead, turning. “How much of my life did Juliette tell you?”

Her eyes slowly widened. “I didn’t ask questions,” she said, both hands up.

He continued toward the Basilique before his eyes got him in trouble.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, I think it’s sweet you want to marry into your culture. My daddy is also like this. Baby girl, you need to find you a nice cowboy and carry on in the wretched ranchy way. Only he doesn’t think it’s wretched at all, but some kind of heaven on earth. So, she mentioned something about one of the women working at the hospital? Would that be the rude one who didn’t want me to disturb you?”

“Yes, it would be,” he said, pissed at Juliette. The fuck was her problem?

“She’s cute,” she said. “Doesn’t seem like your type but what do I really know about you?”

“This is correct, what do you know about me? Nothing, actually.”

“I can tell about people though,” she warned, two steps behind him now. “It’s a gift.”

“Is it,” he muttered.

“Well, to me it is, I guess in your case it’s not.”

He stopped again at the bottom of the Basilique steps, pissed enough to dare to look at her. “In my case, you don’t know me. Nor does your gift. I like simple women, I like mature women, I want a wife that can take orders without feeling bossed around. A woman who doesn’t complain or cave under stress.”

She crossed her arms over her chest with raised brows. “You are bossy,” she said, like he’d asked her opinion. “But…bossy can be good and even sexy if used right.”

Just like that, she drew a full-blown X-rated scene in his head of the right kind of bossy.

“What?” she barely mumbled, pushing hair behind her ear, a child realizing they’d gone too far.

Holy fuck, this was really happening. Was this who he was after all this time? Was he the man who caved to his cock at the first pretty woman finding all his cleverly hidden buttons and pressing them one after another in the span of a minute?

He jerked his eyes from her, holding his jaw together while anger sparked along his pathetic backbone. “You’ll be here for maybe three days. I’d really appreciate it if you left my personal life alone. It isn’t some tragedy you need to rescue me from.”

Her brows furrowed as she lowered her head. “Well, I know that,” she mumbled softly—no, she cooed. He stared at her profile, stuck in that web again. She dared a look at him and the sun caught her brown eyes, turning them into flaming chocolate. “I’m sorry,” she added in that same tone. “I’ll step back. I went too far. Won’t happen again.”

He headed back up the steps and at the door turned, finding her in the same spot, looking ready to run. “Too late to find a boat out of here, Texas. We have real world work that needs doing.”

She dropped her arms and marched up the steps toward him. He opened the door for her, and she entered then stopped, aiming a look at him. “You’re a meanmedic,” she muttered with a finger aimed at him as she passed.

He stood there as those two words put a choke-hold on his cock as mean-doctor/sweet- nurse fantasies burned through him.

She was turning into a living, breathing centerfold.

After he got them in the Jon boat he returned to nursing the only defense he seemed to have against his sudden avalanche of lust. If she continued playing hardball, then he’d play back. Maybe then she’d get the hint and step off. He sure couldn’t handle softball with her, that was pathetically obvious. What a bastion of noble strength and character he was. Not to mention he wasn’t a mean anything. Ever. If he hadn’t been so turned on by the term coming from her, he’d have taken offense. He was never mean. Quiet, yes. Reserved, yes. Careful with his words. Always. Cautious with his choice of words, especially always. Especially lately. Because the celibacy rule lifted, and the universe seemed ready to make him pay for daring such a stupid vow to begin with. He needed to get a handle on all of it. Quick.

He turned his chair enough to see her, finding her watching the swamp, both hands on top of the other on the rail, chin resting on it. The child-like picture added regret to his guilt. His gaze lowered to devour the sight of her thick tan leg exposed from the position. Fuck, she was just…too beautiful, he realized. He turned away from her, back to defeated. With a glance. A single glance. That’s what you’re made of Dr. Dirty Water. Mr. Mean Med. But more importantly, what did her ass look like naked? What did it feel like. Firm? Soft? He closed his eyes as he let the visions come. Standing naked, looking over her shoulder at him. Begging him not to be mean while wanting him to be exactly that.

He”d jack off to that fantasy, this he was sure of. He’d jack off while thinking of being a mean med even while knowing it would only make the fire hotter. But it was still just a fantasy. And that was one thing he could have, and he’d fucking have it to the extreme degree without an ounce of guilt. He wasn’t married. He wasn’t committed. He was technically still free. He clearly needed time to sow his wild oats and that was the only way he could.

And yet…she was begging to help him with his marriage endeavors.

****

Felix hurried to Nitro’s room with excitement and regret and terror. She entered, her stomach knotting like it always did when she saw him chained to the bed. Especially now.

He lifted his head, his brows narrowing. “What’s wrong?” he demanded.

God, what was happening with them? She was terrified. She’d not told Lesion of her symptoms for fear of what he might do. But she felt everything Nitro did. His lust, his anger, his hunger, his thirst. “I need to talk to you about some things.”

She went to sit on his bed next to him, leaning and kissing him. Because she was so hungry for him. Another symptom. She’d always been hungry for him, but it was more now.

“Don’t get this close,” he warned, the sound of instant lust awakened.

“I have to,” she whispered, pulling up before she lost herself to his hungers. “I need to tell you some things that’s happening.

His gaze roamed her face, his animal appetite already triggered even as the strain in his jaw said he fought its power. “Tell me,” he seethed. “Over there. Away from me,” he growled, his breathing labored.

She nodded and walked backwards till the wall met her back. “When you bit me…that first time. I felt…things.” She watched as his body responded to her words. “Right now, you’re feeling it. I can see and I can feel it too.” She covered her mouth when a sob rose up her throat. “It’s me,” she choked out.

“What’s you,” he demanded, his muscles trembling.

“I’m causing you to do this, you’re…responding to my needs. In some…bat communities, depending on the environment, females can…initiate mating and…I think that’s what’s happening, you’re picking up on my…non-stop lust for you,” she wept, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it, I didn’t realize. I’ve always wanted you too much and now it’s causing you to go…bat-shit crazy!”

He growled, yanking at his chain.

“You feel it? You want it now because even while I’m terrified and disgusted with myself I can’t help it. When you bit me, you…there was something in it, something maybe in your…saliva, Lesion said you heal the wound but that’s not all you’re doing, you’re feeding my lust only it’s not satisfying it, it’s growing it to match yours and yours is…”

“Fucking insane?” he yelled, glaring at her before his hunger passed over her as he bared his teeth then fell back onto the bed. “Lesion will fix it,” he grit.

“Even your fury arouses me,” she whispered, shaking her head. “And…I’m never scared of you. I feel alive, so alive and… wide open, every part of me comes apart at the seams and I know that…you need it you want it and I’m safe.”

“Come here,” he growled. “No! Don’t listen to me!”

She gasped, her body on fire with need, his needs, her needs. “I need to tell you something else,” she whispered, getting his furious gaze, the red in his eyes getting darker as he yanked on the chains. “When you don’t…give me what I want, it makes you crazy. So if I…give it to you then it doesn’t need to reach that point.”

“Fuck,” he growled. “You can’t unchain me.”

“But…I can,” she said, her throat tight. “That’s what I’m telling you. You won’t hurt me. We can control it.”

“I can’t fucking control it!” he gasped, shaking his head, his cock tenting the sheet. “Fuck, come here, fucking come here, I need to fuck you too fucking hard baby.”

His fury and lust were lethal to her own and she made her way to the bed, removing her top.”

“I’m going to bite you so fucking hard too. Do you know how fucking good it feels when I do that?”

“Yes,” she croaked, her body burning and shaking as she finished removing her clothes. “But I want you to listen to me.” She climbed on the bed, her craving getting aggressive. She took his face in her hands and dug her nails in his skin, kissing him. She gasped when he nipped her lip, drawing blood. She lashed her tongue along his, grinding the agony between her legs against his hard stomach. “Let me control you.” She took hold of his head in her hands pulling his mouth to her breast. “Don’t bite,” she cried out as his teeth raked her nipple. “Not yet, baby.”

“When,” he demanded, sucking so hard she dug her nails in his scalp. “Do that again,” he groaned.

She moved her hands over his shoulders, breaking the skin with the slow drag of her nails.

“Get on my fucking cock!” He jerked her head back, his fist biting in her hair as she cried out in rapture. “Too fucking slow, Felix!” he seethed.

“Not so tight,” she gasped. “I can’t reach you.”

“I can’t unlock my fist.”

His rage and fear battled as she reached between her legs and found his cock. “You need both hands,” she moaned, desperate to give him that perfect control he shattered her with. “I have the key. Let me unchain you. I need all of you baby, I need you to take all the control, that’s what I crave, I need it.”

“Oh fuck, yes. Do it now.”

Felix reached up to the fist still gripping her hair. “Release me,” she said. “You can do it.”

She gasped when he pulled harder, growling then suddenly released her.

“So good,” she praised, hurrying off the bed to her clothes. She located the key in her pocket and brought it to the lock.

“Felix,” he gasped.

“Don’t be scared,” she whispered.

“I want you too fucking much, I can tell.”

“Don’t be scared,” she ordered firmer. “You love me. I am not afraid of you. You will not hurt me. I know this now.”

“Baby,” he croaked, sounding terrified as she undid the lock.

The second the chain fell, he grabbed her and forced her onto the bed, yanking her hips up. “Oh GOD, yes,” she begged, gripping hold of the mattress, every part of her shaking with need.

His hand bit down on her shoulder, nails digging as he held her down, his other hand opening her legs. His fingers shoved inside her with a lethal growl, and she knew it was the warm up. Her cries flowed, hot and thick like the fire he created in her. There were no words, no thoughts to convey what he did to her. His forearm pressed into her pelvis, lifting her for his cock. “Baby, please oh God please yes.”

The first plunge shattered her so perfectly. Her lust and desperation filled a single shriek. His fist was back in her hair, jerking her head back far enough to force her to resist him. It was his side of this union, his hunger and craving. Like he needed to feel her every limit and bring her to that razor edge but never any further. With her body locked up and rigid, he gave her what she craved and pounded against that resistance with his entire body, his cock leading that assault. Then followed that symphony of lust and passion merging into something otherworldly and terrifying. It built in him then her, even now she felt it, that pinnacle his mind and body craved. It was her breaking point, she remembered. Yes, he had to bring her to it and just at the ledge, he gave her a climax with his bite. She wasn’t sure how, she only knew she needed it as much as he did. Craved it. She fought not to scream as he forced her to that brutal edge, her mind swimming with pleasure and a delicious pain. His full weight pinned her upper body and she knew it was coming now. Yes, yes, yes, she screamed in her mind. Please God, don’t let him stop! Please!

Her mouth flew open with a scream of rapture as his teeth pierced her shoulder, hot, burning and hard, spreading through her before it all pounded in her clit. His growls matched the fury of his final thrusts, but it was always the sucks on her shoulder that triggered the climax from her clit. Again, she locked up in the violent pleasure storm, sending him over the ledge. But it was in this most terrifying place that she knew she was safest. His hold on her was one of salvation, of protection and utter devotion. It was perfection. Oh God, it was utterperfection.

****

Patches got the boat docked.

“Patches?”

He turned, seeing Tegan looking up at the sky.

He jerked his head up right as his phone buzzed. Fucking bats. “Sarah?” he answered.

“She’s screaming!”

“Who is!”

“I think it’s Felix! What do I do?”

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Do not go down there,” he said quietly. “Stay where you are, I’m coming in.”

He turned to Tegan and grabbed her head, pulling her ear to his mouth. “Nitro is having an episode, that’s why the bats are here. Stay with our patients. Do not leave this boat, do you understand me?”

He felt her nod then she whispered, “Yes. Be careful.”

Patches raced to the back of the hospital, wondering why the bats weren’t cloaking the walls and doors this time. “Don’t follow me,” he ordered Sarah as he raced for the door leading downstairs. He slowed as he made his way toward a possible death, his fresh injuries ordering him to stop now and turn back.

At Nitro’s door, his heart pounded with DeJa’Vu as he listened. “Nitro?”

“NO!” Felix yelled. “THAT’S PATCHES! HE’S YOUR brOTHER!”

The sound of growling moved around the room just beyond the door, putting Patches’ every muscle on high alert.

“Come to me,” he heard Felix say. “I need to touch you.”

Muscles locked in a flight-or-fight war as Patches listened to another sound in the room. Was it…purring?

“You like that, yes?” she asked, sounding pleased. “That’s so good. You’re doing so good,” she praised in a soft coo. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”

A long, lusty moan preceded, “I’m better.”

“My generals love when I make this noise.”

It was purring, he realized.

“I’ll kill your generals,” he said, but his voice was nearly calm.

“How about command them? Or lead? You’ll be my Bat King?”

Patches’ muscles released at her soft laughter. “I have patients I’m bringing in for the hurricane,” he called.

“Stop growling at him,” Felix whispered.

“I’m growling at you,” he muttered. “You want me again.”

Wow. “So yeah,” Patches nodded. “We’ll be up top if you need anything. I’ll come by with Tegan after we get everybody settled in. Talk about that tag.”

“Good,” Nitro answered. “I still need it.”

At hearing his brother sounding sane, his body quaked with fucking relief while he wondered what had happened. Felix had done something, but what?

He made his way back up, hurrying out to get everybody in, eyeing the sky still filled with circling bats. He pulled his phone out and dialed Lesion, eager to tell him about this miracle turn in the road.

****

Tegan watched Patches orchestrate Hurricane protocols with the ease and authority of a king while his loyal, ever so perfect number one nurse—who he was technically dating—floated about like a magical butterfly, a shadow reinforcing his every move. Meanwhile Tegan tripped around like a spark of stupid till she spotted something she could handle and understood how to do. Like move chairs or tables or haul things from here to there. And the lovely saint Sarah smiled and laughed while working, making the patients feel like they were getting ready for a damn ho-down rather than a hurricane.

To make matters worse, Patches’ Grand Pier looked at her like a rare Texas toxin. And loooooved the Swamp Saint. But lord, he was so sweet. The light in that man’s eyes when he looked at Patches melted her heart. She’d decided to take Juliette up on her idea of helping Patches with his dating fiasco. But she was not the right person for that job. Already she hawked that girl for flaws, looking for the fatal ones that allowed her to say bad choice. Would help if she could see past her blinding qualities to find them. But if this girl turned out to be as amazing as she seemed, then she would not stand in the way. She’d never stoop to that or be that person. No matter how badly she wanted somebody. And dear God, want was a joke of a word with him. Ever since he’d returned, she’d seen that look in his eyes she’d been praying to see. But his anger was a bad sign. Because if he wanted her and didn’t want to want her, then that was no good. No good at all. The situation had become instantly serious when she’d seen it. She was that log in his path. Would he step on her or over her? Could she handle that kind of treatment from him? How far was she willing to go to give him an opportunity to…to what?

Pick me. I want him to pick me, dammit.

But if he did, would he regret it? Have guilt? Pickers remorse?

The idea made her sick to imagine.

She watched as Patches stopped Sarah and said something to her. She nodded, gave him a genuine enough smile and looked around. Tegan’s pulse jumped when her eyes found her and she waved, heading for her.

Tegan hurried to meet her, not wanting her to work on her behalf too. “Would you mind bringing our mommas and Patches’ Grand Pier refreshments?”

“Not at all, tell me what to do, thank you.”

“In the kitchen, there’s three fridges. I think it’s the one in the middle that has all their foods prepped with names on each.” The woman touched her arm and murmured, “Thank God for Miss Justine, she got all that ready ahead of time.”

“Yes, I’ll do it right now. Any particular order to serve?”

“Maybe Grand Pier first,” she whispered with a smile and wink. “We like to spoil him when he comes.”

“Got it.” Tegan took off, her heart beating like there was a damn barn fire. Sarah was being very nice. Which meant she was being protective of Patches in their first encounter—a quality, not a flaw, unfortunately. Maybe Patches told her something. Now, she was super nice, super helpful, super tiny, super cute, super frickn everything. Which is why she was an option. Because Patches was smart. She was simple, uncomplicated, helpful, just like he said. And really, Tegan could easily compete with those things except she wasn’t from the swamps. And damn if she wasn’t ready to dig up her family tree to see if maybe she had ancestors from there just to qualify.

She made her way to the room where Patches grandfather was and paused, realizing she wasn’t sure what to call him. Everybody called him Grand Pier, but she didn’t feel like she had that same right. Alien invader that she was.

“You okay?”

She turned, finding Patches there. “I just realized I don’t know his name. Or remember it. Everybody calls him Grand Pier but…I don’t feel right calling him that.”

“You can call him Mr. Monroe. It’s his last name.”

A zing of pain hit her at the formality. “Alright. Any advice as to what not to say?”

“Not that I can think of,” he said after a moment. “You doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, nodding. “Aside from feeling useless and not knowing whether I’m coming or going or would be more help out of the way.”

“You’re doing just fine,” he assured, his gaze lowering to her mouth. Again. He glanced to the right. “Those go in the mother’s rooms,” he said to one of the other nurses before looking at her again. “As soon as we get them all settled, we’ll talk about Nitro?”

She nodded. “Of course. Get that taken care of. Is he still okay?”

“I haven’t had a chance to check on him again, but I hope so.”

“I can go do that if you need.”

“No,” he hurried. “Don’t ever go down there without me.”

Oookay. “Yes sir, then,” she said as he opened his Grand Pier’s door for her. “Thank you.”

“Find me when you’re done. I have a delivery to make this evening too. You’ll come with me for that.” Again, she nodded, her stomach quaking while he called into the room, “Grand Pier, Miss Texas brought you some food. Play nice.” He looked at her with raised brows and a hint of a smile then left her wondering. Was he…being flirty?

Dream on, Miss Texas. Geeze why did he have to call her that to the man opposed to outsiders? Was that on purpose? Stop being paranoid. He’s called you that from jump.

“Well, good evening, Mr. Monroe, are you settling in okay? I’ve got some goodies for you.”

“Meh, weh,” he said, making Tegan pause in wonder over what that meant.

“Would you like that on the table here or in your lap?”

“I’ll take it on my lap, sha. Tank you,” he said, taking hold of it and setting it down.

“You ready for this hurricane?” she asked, unwrapping his utensils.

“Meh, ready or not, here it comes, yeah?”

She smiled and nodded. “I think Patches might like them. He gets to bring you over here so you can spoil him more.” She smiled at his big laugh.

“Meh, don’t tell him but he’s my favorite.”

“Well, I think somebody done spilled those beans to him. I heard all about it.”

“Meh, what you heard like that?” he wondered, a laugh in his light words as he took a big bite of red beans and rice. “Mmm-mm dat Miss Justine sure know her way around dat kitchen, yeah.”

“It does look good,” she said, removing the lid from his drink. “Well now, Patches didn’t tell me in those exact words, but I can read between the lines. You are the King Grand Pier.”

He let go his biggest laugh yet and the sound made her giggle.

“Did you pack your crown?”

He started coughing on his food and she moved his tray, tapping him on his back. He tried to take a breath and she panicked at hearing him struggle.

Sarah was suddenly there, pulling him forward and moving his legs off the bed. “Arms up, now, get those lungs cleared. Get me his drink,” she urged.

Tegan quickly grabbed it, spilling some on the bed as she did.

“Little sip. There you go. Clear it out now. Remember how I showed you? Take a nice deep breath then big long cough.”

Patches entered next, hurrying to the bed as Tegan stepped farther back, out of the way. “What happened?”

“I just heard him coughing and I came in,” Sarah said.

“He took a bite of food and started coughing,” Tegan explained. “I…I made him laugh, I think that might have done it.”

“She made you laugh?” he asked, his tone teasing. “I thought I was the only one that did that?”

“Well, here I thought I was the only one that did that,” Sarah added in a light tease. “I see I have competition.”

God, when he finally got his breath, the panic latched onto her muscles ebbed away and Tegan needed to sit but didn’t want to look lazy or as useless as she felt. She suddenly wanted to be doing anything but caring for the one person Patches loved more than anything in the whole world.

“How about some yogurt for that war you just waged on your throat,” Sarah suggested sweetly, sitting on the bed next to him. “Don’t tell Patches but my favorite part about hurricanes is seeing you.”

“Here we go,” Patches chuckled as Sarah laughed. Tegan suddenly felt like an ugly stepchild amongst blooded-bond servants.

“Tegan, honey, those mothers would probably love you forever if you brought them their dinner right about now. I’ll finish up with Mr. Stinker here.”

Shit. Right. “On it. Bye Mr. Monroe,” she said halfway out the door. “Sorry I nearly killed you.” The door shut and she hurried down the hall, mortified with her last words. God, could she screw up any more?

Do not say that shit. Do not challenge karma.