Just Her Luck
Authors: Jeanette Lynn
Just Her Luck
By
Jeanette Lynn
***
Published By:
Jeanette Lynn
Just Her Luck
Copyright 2014
Jeanette Lynn
License Notes
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Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events, or locales, is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademarked ownership of all trademarks and word marks mentioned in this book
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Table Of Contents
Poker In The Front, Asthma Up The Rear
Putting It All Out On The Line
Just This Side Of The Miss Is Tipsy
Sleep Overs And Raging Cowlicks
Burnin’ Bridges Or Mendin’ Fences
Books by
Jeanette Lynn
Cosmic Soul Mates Series
Stellar Proportions
Book 1
Out Of This Orbit
Book 2
On Her Axis
Book 3
(m/f/m) (no m/m)
Book 4
Coming soon
The Brides of Mordenne Series
A Mate To Match
Book 1
In Her Eyes
Book 2
Other Books By Jeanette Lynn
Just Her Luck
(m/f/m) (no m/m)
Of Another Dimension
(m/f/m) (no m/m)
The Bridal Hunt
(m/f/m) (no m/m)
Jingle Belled And Mistletoed
When She Least Expected It
(William Gerald's story from Jingle Belled And Mistletoed)
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit material, intended for readers 18 and older.
It also contains ménage a trois situations, foul language and some violence.
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“Okay, Vieve. You’re almost there,” I muttered under my breath.
Wiping the sweat from my brow that had started beading onto my forehead, I made yet another right turn, this one leading me onto a smoother dirt road.
Thank god for that!
I don’t think my little VW Bug could take any more crazy bumps and potholes.
The instructions my Aunt Ruthie had given me were very
interestingly specific
, complete with things like
‘Look for a big rusted out truck with an “I’d rather be hunting” sticker on it’-
so I know I’m definitely going in the right direction.
Especially after her last bit of directional info:
Go left when you see a sign that says ‘Dinkleman’s pond (No skinny dipping)’.
I snorted at that.
Aunt Ruthie always was a little bit of a nut.
Leave it to her to give me funky directions and ‘helpful’ tidbits.
Sure as hell wasn’t gonna get lost with specifics like
that
, though.
One look at that pond and I had to question the sanity of the person who’d put up the sign.
You couldn’t get me to take a dip in that toxic-looking green sludge even if I had a hazmat suit on.
I shuddered at the thought.
One more right turn and any minute I should be there.
A large, two story ranch-style house, complete with wrap-around porch and pretty wood shutters on all the windows, came into view.
I whistled long and low.
Whooo.
Good grief!
Aunt Ruthie wants me to clean
this
house?
The damned thing is a behemoth!
If I didn’t love my auntie to death, I’d turn tail and run,
right now.
I groaned as I pulled up into the makeshift designated parking type area and parked my little beetle, eyeing the house in front of me skeptically.
The things I do for the people I love
, I thought and sighed heavily.
Letting myself just have a moment, I took a few deep, fortifying, cleansing breaths.
I can do this.
Bracing myself, I slowly opened my car door and got out, enjoying the cool breeze on my sweaty, overheated skin.
No air conditioning is obviously going to be an issue around here
, I observed as my body threatened to sweat buckets.
I’m going to have to plan my trips to town around the cooler parts of the day.
I love my little beetle to death,
don’t get me wrong
, but I never did get around to having AC put into my little rusty bucket like I’d planned.
Totally regretting that now.
Really should have listened to my cousin Barry when he’d offered to have his ‘friend’ fix it up for me.
Guess I’ll just have to suck it up and try to avoid driving in the heat.
Early morning shopping anyone?
“Can I help you, ma’am?” A soft, deep voice called out from somewhere off to my side.
I whirled around and found myself a few feet away from a veritable jolly green giant.
He had a pair of leather work gloves in his large, calloused, suntanned hands, and a frown was marring what little I could make out, with his cowboy hat in the way, of his strongly masculine face.
His long, slightly bowed legs were encased in a pair of faded, dark denim jeans that had obviously seen better days, a scuffed up pair of work boots on his huge feet, and a white t-shirt with smudges of red dirt all over it that hugged his wide chest.
“Oh, um, I’m Ruthie Ferguson’s niece, Genevieve.” Holding my hand out, I introduced myself.
Trying for friendly, I gave him a big warm smile.
He frowned harder and scratched at the chocolate brown stubble on his cheek, but other than that, didn’t respond.
I kept my smile firmly in place and let him have a second, starting to feel a little silly with my hand outstretched in front of me for the handshake he was obviously not in any hurry to return.
Okay…
“I’m filling in for her while she’s out recovering from her surgery…” I prompted.
Still no response.
Or did he just make a tiny grunting noise?
Can’t be too sure.
Hmmm…
I tried to get a better peek at him, without him thinking I was staring.
He’s lookin’ a lil’ confused.
I laughed a little at the complete silliness of the situation, and coughed to cover it up when he finally looked over at me.
“This
is
the Harrison ranch, isn’t it?”
I already knew it was, but asked anyways.
“Well, yeah… but…” he stammered a little.
“But, what? Did you already find a replacement?” My tone was hopeful-
I didn’t bother to hide it
- perking right up at the idea.
“Erm, well... no,” he said slowly and pulled at his hat enough to give me a glimpse of bright, baby blue peepers.
They were such a deep, clear blue that I’d say they resembled the ocean.
“Then what’s the problem?” I was frowning right along with him at this point, just as confused as him.
“Uh, you don’t look like your Aunt Ruthie… you… uh… well… uh, ma’am, I, uh…”
“Thank god for that!” Chortling a little to myself, I snorted and smiled at the idea. “You couldn’t pay me to either.”
“Huh?” He blinked down at me, squinting against the bright sunshine steadily streaming down on us from this disgustingly hot day.
Staring at me blankly for a full minute, his brow eventually furrowed as his face scrunched up, turning into a puzzled, seemingly lost expression, clearly unable to keep up.
I grinned at his confusion.
He looks so cute when he’s all befuddled.
Like a little puppy or something.
If he’s the boss, then working for him for a few weeks will be a snap.
Boy couldn’t put more than ten words together without getting all tongue-tied.
“I was just saying you couldn’t even pay me to dress like Aunt Ruthie. No offense to Ruthie, I love her to bits, but I don’t think dressing like someone’s old granny with flowery dresses and laced up necklines would look good on me, do you?”
“Uh, no. I don’t guess it would,” he said after he’d thought about it a moment.
Fidgeting awkwardly, he took his hat off, revealing a scruffy-bearded baby face and tousled chocolate brown hair, cowlicks sticking up everywhere in all directions.
He scratched at his scalp for a minute, brows deeply furrowed, the little wheels in his head just firing away.
Stifling a smile, I patiently waited while he had some type of internal debate with himself.
Guess he needs a moment…