3. Cora
three
cora
“W ho the fuck are you?” How could someone have gotten in here? I triple checked all of the locks. Did I miss one?
I frantically search the room for both something to throw at the stranger that’s now appeared in my bed and my glasses. This motherfucker chose the wrong woman to mess with. But everything is a blurred black blob, and I refuse to die because I can’t make out my attacker.
Reaching for anything within my grasp, I begin hurling anything that isn’t nailed down in the general direction of the stranger. Something hits home when they release an oof .
“Quit throwing things. I’m not going to hurt you!” His blurry shape moves closer and my panic kicks into overdrive.
The mystery person—a man, no less— groans in pain before the room floods with light. I shield my eyes momentarily before continuing my search for a weapon. As if by some small miracle, I’m able to locate my glasses on the side table and quickly shove them on my nose.
Everything comes into focus. Standing on the opposite side of the room, palm rubbing his injured jaw, is the largest and most beautiful man that I’ve ever seen.
Grabbing Jack’s old wooden baseball bat from under the bed, I decide that it doesn’t matter if this man is pretty. He broke into Jack’s house, and I’m about to make him regret it.
“You have two seconds to tell me who the hell you are, and why you’re here,” I say, raising the bat and getting ready to swing.
The handsome stranger holds his hands out defensively, large palms open for me to see. His yummy muscular arms are covered in stunning nautical tattoos. Not that I’m checking him out or anything.
“Whoa there, slugger. Put the bat down and we can talk.” He speaks calmly, as if he’s had to de-escalate angry women more than a few times in his life.
“Like hell I will.” Lord, it’s going to be a shame to have to mess up his pretty face. “One Mississippi…”
His eyes widen and he takes a step back, realizing that his de-escalation technique isn’t working on me.
“Shit, you’re serious. Okay, my name’s Nash Montgomery, and this is my friend Jack’s house. I used the key under that weird gnome to get in. Can I ask who you are before you use me for batting practice?”
Jack’s friend? He didn’t mention anyone coming over. However, I did spring my visit on him last minute.
I glare at him with suspicion. “I’m Cora, Jack’s cousin. Call him right now to prove that you know him,” I demand, lowering the bat slightly, but still keeping it steady between us.
Nash quickly pulls his phone out of his form fitting jeans, putting it on speaker phone as he dials.
“Pick up you idiot…” he mutters, shifting on his feet and frequently glancing at the bat.
A familiar voice comes over the phone, and my heart stops feeling as if it’ll burst from my chest.
“Hey dude, everything okay?” he asks casually. “I just got your text about crashing at my place. My cousin Cora is there, so you’ll have to use the sofa. Have you met her yet?”
“Yep, I met her all right. She’s right here, waving a bat at me. Do you mind telling her that you know me and that I don’t want to kill her?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips as his eyes land on me.
Jack’s voice rises two octaves as he realizes what’s going on. “Oh shit! Cora, you can put the bat down. Nash is a friend of mine. Are you okay with him sleeping on the couch? I want you to feel comfortable.”
“Yeah, he can stay on the couch,” I reply, still not taking my eyes off of Nash. “I believe I’ve already proved that I can take care of myself, didn’t I, Nash?” I shoot him an innocent smile, batting my eyelashes to be extra obnoxious.
“Oh, you certainly showed me and my jaw that you aren’t to be messed with,” he replies, crossing his arms across his wide chest. “All right, Jack, I’ll let you go. We can catch up tomorrow.” Nash hangs up, eyes never leaving mine. Something simmers in them that makes me squirm.
I sigh, leaning the bat back against the wall to catch my breath. The bat thuds to the floor. Walking over to the man that’s about to star in all of my fantasies for the next few months, I grab his wrist and tug him towards the kitchen.
“Let’s get you some ice.” I wince, taking in the rapid swelling on his jaw. A very handsome, chiseled jaw. “You’re going to need it.”