Three Grumpy Billionaires and a Klutzy Librarian (Three Guys and a Girl #2)

Chapter Two

Everything happened in the blink of an eye and a waft of very expensive men’s cologne.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Keller. I’m so, so sorry.” Allison apologized repeatedly, aware that the older woman’s grumpy guests were looking at her as if she had descended from the planet Bonkersbula.

She couldn’t tell if her pounding heart was a result of them or the diabolical exertion she had put her body through chasing her dang dog. Were they really that gorgeous, or did her running after Horse make her blind?

No time. She had a dog to catch.

Horse zigzagged his way under the chairs like it was an obstacle course. Allison lost every bit of her pride as she half-crawled and half-stumbled after him, not under the chairs but around them, hoping she could get a hold of him once and for all, her apologies echoing around her as she made a complete and utter spectacle of herself.

Why, Horse? Why?

He emerged from under the chairs, and Allison finally got a tenuous grip on his fur. Thank freaking gosh. She wasn’t going to let go, despite Horse using all his power to shake her off. She pulled herself to her feet, still apologizing profusely, despite being catapulted right off her proverbial feet at their commanding heights as two of the men now stood from their chairs, while the third pushed his chair back and watched. Three sets of forest-green, chestnut-brown, and azure-blue eyes continued to stare at her as if she were an alien.

Right, Planet Bonkersbula. Her hometown.

She was just too glad she managed to commandeer her doggone dog before he really did some damage.

But, as usual, it was not to be.

As if everything were happening at twice the speed. Horse bucked like a bronco and threw her off. Unconsciously, she grabbed the end of a napkin for some strange reason to break her fall. Ordinarily, she would have landed smack on her ass—she was just engineered that way, if there was a fall to be had, she was going to take it, unprovoked or not—but with some mind-boggling and rather awkward acrobatics, she not only maintained her footing but also rescued a perfect meringue pie that had been placed on the napkin from crashing to the floor of the gazebo.

However, her stunned glee at saving the pie was short-lived.

Horse wasn’t done yet. He made a U-turn, charged toward her playfully, and knocked her off her feet. This time her brain completely left her body when she upended the pie against a suit that cost more than her salary as a librarian. Dear god in heaven.

“I’m so sorry,” she cried, trying to wipe the cream off his suit with her hands. But that wasn’t all. Horse came around for a second time to knock her over, and well…

In her defense, if the hard flooring had been her only option to land her ass on, she would have taken it. It wasn’t. She was going to fall butt-first into the lap of the third man, who was still seated, and he didn’t look happy about it at all.

For some other warped reason, she decided to take hold of the second man’s tie, nearly strangling him as she fought to keep herself standing. Oh, flip, she was murdering him.

“Crap, I’m sorry,” she blurted. She let go immediately and plopped into the third man’s lap. Hard muscle met her body, and oh dear, the bulge in his pants nestled against her ass.

He sprang up from the chair and set her aside as if she were a speck of fluff he did not want on his clothes.

“Stop,” the guy she tried to kill with his tie said to Horse and her dog, while entirely conflicted, sat quivering as he used every ounce of control he was worth not to move. How did Death-by-Tie Guy do that?

Death-by-Pie- Guy tried his best to wipe off the pie from his suit. She desperately wanted to help him, but she was sure he had growled at her before. As for Death-by-Lap Guy, well, he was even less amused now.

Also, why did each one of them have to smell so delicious? She wanted to inhale them whole. And how could each one of them be so utterly perfect? She wanted to reach out and touch them to see if they were real.

Nope, Allison.

“I’m so, so sorry, Mrs. Keller,” she cried again, her gaze riveting over the stunningly put-together older woman and her three guests. “I ordered some underwear online, and they sent me the wrong color, and I swear it’s like Horse can smell red.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Ally, darling. That was quite a show you put on,” she laughed. “And we needed it. The conversation was getting a little too serious for my liking,” she added, looking at her guests.

Mrs. Keller already knew Horse’s trigger for red fabric, and when she visited Allison, she made sure not to wear anything red, but Allison felt a need to explain herself to the three men.

“My dog, Horse, is triggered by the color red, and he gets completely uncontrollable,” she said to them, hoping they would understand. It had been sheer luck that she and her vet had figured it out. “I’ll gladly pay for all the damages and your suit. I’m so sorry.”

“You call your dog Horse, and he’s triggered by the color red?” Tie-Guy asked.

“Yes, but not triggered like a bull, even though everyone says that but bulls are colorblind. They can’t see colors in the red-green spectrum. It’s actually the whipping of the muleta that the bull associates with danger—"

Seriously, what was wrong with her? Why did she have to keep talking? And she wasn’t done yet.

“And yes, dogs do see the world in blue and yellow, mostly but Horse is an unexplainable anomaly.”

“Like his owner,” Pie Guy muttered under his breath but she heard him loud and clear.

“I’ll have you know I can see all my colors just fine, that you very much,” she replied a little peeved.

Oh, but she needed one more encore—an encore to end all encores.

She took one step toward Horse, still seated like the best dog ever—traitor—so she could snatch her underwear from his mouth. And the end of the towel she had been wearing got caught on the intricate pattern of the edge of the cast iron table. One step was all it took for her towel to come completely off her body.

Right. Because it was a Saturday afternoon and she usually did some beauty care, or that’s what she told herself. She had just exfoliated her skin and oiled it, then wrapped herself in a towel and went to the kitchen to grab a snack while her mud face mask dried. Oh yes, she had come running after her dog in a towel, flip-flops, and a mud mask on her face.

And then she was naked. In front of all of them. She may have imagined the pockets of heat that exploded from her skin as the three men’s gazes slid over her body, inch for inch. What had lasted no more than a second or two seemed like an eternity in her mind.

It took her a few precious and stunned moments to feel the cool afternoon breeze over her bare skin before she tried to wrestle her towel free and failed. In the name of self-preservation, with what little she had left, she dived behind a pillar and mouthed, “What is wrong with me?”

“Argh, I’m so sorry,” she cried from behind the post, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. How was she going to get her towel back? Would she have to make a naked run back to the cottage? Gosh, she hoped not. She was tired.

Mrs. Keller clapped her hands and laughed. “Oh, Ally, darling. Never a dull moment with you, sweetie.”

Oh god.

In the midst of the pandemonium she and her dog had unleashed, Allison hadn’t even considered her attire, or lack thereof.

Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god.

She turned a bright red when Lap-Guy handed her the towel back. She quickly wrapped it around herself and made a reappearance.

“Oh, this is wonderful. I have the best idea ever. Allison, please meet my grandsons. Collectively known as ‘The Grumps’. This is Zac Archer, Gage Miller, and Reid Flemming.” Turning toward Allison she said, “Grandsons, Miss Allison Harding. Now that we have that out of the way, you three are going to be taking Miss Harding to the Davenport Ball tomorrow, and I’m not accepting no for an answer.”

Wait, what?