Page 31 of The Triple Threat

And at the thought of Ellie naked, my dick jumped again, making me curse under my breath. It had to damn well stop. I’d known her for years, why was I suddenly getting all hot and bothered by her? It had to be the alcohol. Oh, and maybe the way she wore that tiny little cheerleader outfit with sass and style.

“You should stay, El,” I said with a deep sigh. “They won’t give up until you say yes.”

Ellie shot me a glare, but when her lips twitched, I knew she wasn’t really mad.

“Okay, a cocoa would be nice, Auntie L.”

Janice-Ann clapped her hands like Ellie had just told her George Clooney was coming to stay—yeah, my aunts had a bit of a thing for George—and pulled open the car door while Ellie turned the engine off.

I watched a long, tanned leg appear and held my breath.

“You shoo,” Auntie J said, waving her hands at me. “Go and help your pop before he busts a blood vessel.”

With one last look at Ellie’s ass swinging in her skirt, I rushed off to help Pop, hoping that some physical work might just calm my testosterone down.

* * *

After three hours and a lot of cussing, pushing and pulling we had a new cow to add to the herd. She was a big girl which was why the mother had struggled, but she battled to the end and finally birthed her calf. Thank God, both were fine, although we had one very tired momma.

When Pop and I rounded the corner back to the house, Ellie’s car still sitting outside surprised me.

“Ellie stayed.” Pop scrubbed a hand down his stubble, but his voice seemed to lift a little with excitement.

“Please tell me you’re not interested in her.”

My heart must have been beating fast because I was so tired, and the sickness in my belly was definitely due to the beers I’d had and then all the hard work of delivering the calf. It had to be, right?

Pop burst out laughing. “Jeez son, she’s young enough to be my daughter.”

I let out a long breath and made a mental note to let Ellie know that we probably didn’t need to go ahead with ‘Operation Bronte’, not if that was Pop’s view.

“I was thinking of you,” he said, nudging me.

“Me?”

When I stopped in my tracks, Pop carried on walking toward the house and chuckled to himself.

“Pop, what did you mean, you were thinking of me?”

“Use your brain, son,” he called and without breaking step beckoned me toward the house over his shoulder. “C’mon let’s get inside, I need a hot drink and my bed.”

Frowning I followed him up the steps and into the house, almost barreling into his back.

“What the he—”

“Shush,” he whispered, putting his index finger to his lips and nodding toward the couch.

I looked over his shoulder to see Ellie curled up with one of my hoodies on. It was so big it covered her thighs and almost reached her feet with the short, white socks on. One hand was under her cheek, while the other was clutching the loose fabric of the top.

“She looks like an angel,” Pop said quietly. “Kinda reminds me of your mom when she was that age.”

When I looked down at Ellie, she stirred and rubbed her nose. Pop was right, she did look like an angel.

“I’m going to get me a glass of milk and then go up to bed. Tell Ellie she can stay in the spare room if she wants.”

Pop slapped my back and left me to it. With my hands on my hips, I looked down at her, wondering whether to wake her, or just cover her with the knitted blanket my aunts had made one winter. It lay over the back of Pop’s chair and more often than not after a long day, I ended up covering him with it after he fell asleep in front of the TV; or I had until he’d started his lady killing ways.

I was still in two minds what to do when Ellie turned over, and as she did, she showed me a good deal of a white lacy ass. Then the said white lacy ass let out a toot like a quick blast of a trumpet. It was so loud she jostled and sat bolt upright.