Ready, Willing and Abel (Passion in Paradise: The Men of the McKinnon Sisters Book 3)

by Sarah O'Rourke

  Surely that wasn’t the sun.

  Nope. It couldn’t be the sun. The sun would have the good manners to stay put in the sky...far, far away from her bedroom window, right?

  Except it didn’t. It was the damned sun, and it was beaming a ray directly into her retinas, pulling a low moan from her lips.

  Being blinded by the sun could only mean one thing, too. It had to already be freaking morning. Hells bells and little green apples! Was the universe intent on completely ruining her life? Couldn’t a girl catch a few hours’ uninterrupted sleep anymore?

  Patience groaned as she dropped a hand over her eyes, trying to block out the brightness. Her wrist reminded her at that moment that it was not appreciative of the rough treatment, and she gingerly lowered her hand. Opening one eyelid, she glared blearily at the darkening bruise on her inner wrist. Well, that was a fine howdy-do, she thought. Obviously last night’s festivities had left a mark … maybe a few of them if her aching, tired body was anything to go by.

  Did she really expect anything less? Closing her eye again as she snuggled back under the Egyptian cotton sheets, Patience couldn’t help but wonder if her entire family was just cursed. Either that, or they just attracted crazies like mosquitoes swarming in the summer.

  And the biggest crazy of all had been good ol’ Angela. It figured, she was a bloodsucking irritation, too. In spite of her exhaustion, Patience grinned as she remembered the fracas that had erupted as soon as she had asked that fateful question the night before. When almost every man in the room except Uncle Jethro, Seth, Diego, and Jake had raised their hands, indicating they had indeed – in spite of all their good sense – had slept with the witch in question at various and sundry times in their lives, the war was on. Oh, all the men had their own very unique reasons why they’d bedded the barracuda, but none of them had impressed the women much.

  Of course, it had been Angela that made the mistake of opening up the battle royale by grabbing a nearby tea pitcher and throwing it at Patience, only to miss and hit Abel smack-dab in the middle of the chest. Obviously missing her aim had infuriated the little witch even further, and Patience had found herself fending off hand-to-hand combat when Angela had attempted to swing her purse upside Patience’s head. Rubbing her wrist, Patience was grateful she had blocked that blow...obviously the other woman carried bricks inside that knock-off Prada because it had left one hell of a bruise. She could only imagine what would have happened had it hit her head.

  But, on the sunny side of the street, she had managed to get in a few good licks of her own. She distinctly remembered Angela’s black eye. And it was always nice to have a posse that would saddle up and help her clean house when needed. Heads and hands had been flying everywhere once her sisters and Maggie had joined the fray. Even Vivian had gotten a good slap or two into the fray. And don’t even get her started on Aunt Orla’s skill with that wooden spoon of hers. That sucker oughta be registered as a lethal weapon. It’d been a regular free-for all, and Patience faintly remembered screaming like a banshee when Abel had picked her up and dropped her behind the waitress station with a command to stay, his attempt to remove her from the heat of battle. Seriously, did that man think she was a freaking golden retriever who obeyed his every word?

  Except, because he’d impregnated her with his spawns, she had remained exactly where he put her. The need to protect their children had outweighed her need to be stubborn and show him she could do what she wanted. Her life was changing faster than the speed of light, and she wondered if she’d ever feel as though she had things under control again.

  Flopping in the bed as she frowned at that memory, Patience stiffened as she suddenly heard a groan beside her. Smacking out a hand, she yelped when she encountered a warm body, and jerked straight up as she stared at that damned man lying beside her. “Abel Turner, what the hell is your ass doing in my bed?”

  “Trying to sleep,” Abel retorted, yanking the sheet in his direction as he tried to pull it over his eyes, “but with you flopping around like a fish out of water over there, that’s not gonna happen.”

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Patience snapped back, pulling the sheet back in her direction as she smacked his bare chest...hard. “You. Don’t. Live. Here. Remember?”

  “What I remember is having to haul your ass back here after Zeke finally let your crazy family of females out of the pokey last night, Hellion,” Abel mumbled, sighing as he slowly propped up in the comfortable bed. “Or did you conveniently forget that you got arrested and the subsequent fracas at the local jail?”

  At least she had the good sense to wince as she suddenly remembered all of the events from the previous evening. Although, now that she thought more about it, it still pissed her off to high heaven that Zeke Monroe had decided to arrest everyone involved last night since he supposedly “couldn’t determine the instigator”. Did that man need a freaking sign to point him in the right direction to the Wicked Witch of the West? Couldn’t he just smell the sulphur or follow the tracks of souls that trailed in her wake?

  It wasn’t freakin’ hard!

  Seeing Patience’s face cloud up even darker than before, Abel let out a short laugh as he reached out to tuck a strand of her tousled hair behind her ear and trail his blunt fingertips over the curve of her neck. “Yeah. It all really happened, Hellion. Luckily, Jake, Cain and Honor convinced him to open the locks.”

  Honestly, her body must be on some sort of hormonal high, because she’d be damned to admit to him that she actually got a bit of a thrill when his fingers touched her neck. That would just not do. Not at all. “That’s only because Honor invoked the good name of our departed Momma and pointed out that she’d be rolling over in her grave if she knew her two pregnant daughters were in prison and that it would just be plumb TACKY to give birth behind bars,” Patience complained, flopping back on her pillow and staring at the ceiling.

  Abel snorted. “I think your release had more to do with Honor’s promise to make sure the entire population of Paradise knew that their Sheriff once enjoyed using his handcuffs for more than apprehending criminals. To tell the truth, I felt sorry for the poor bastard; he’d give his back teeth to find out who the hell has been runnin’ their mouth to your sister.”

  “Good luck with that.” Patience smirked and shook her head. “Honor doesn’t tell secrets.”

  “Zeke’s been chasin’ after Honor for years, babe. Try to convince her to give him just a little slack. You can tell it’s makin’ him crazy that it might be some foolishness he explored in his youth that keeps him from her.”

  Patience glared at the man in her bed. “I think the so-called foolishness explored in youth is makin’ more than one of my sisters unhappy, Abel. I STILL can’t believe Cain was stupid enough to put his pecker in Angie’s honeypot!”

  “Damn it, woman. Cain was a kid,” Abel defended his brother, rolling over and propping his head in one hand as he met her angry look with one of his own. “Kids make dumb choices.”

  “He was twenty! Not a kid….unless, you’ll let me claim that sleeping with you that first time was a dumb choice this kid made,” she suggested, narrowing her eyes on him.

  “Girls mature faster than boys. Everybody knows that,” Abel replied quickly. “Besides…for Cain, this happened fifteen years ago – long before Faith was even a thought in his imagination.”

  “You think that comforts Faith? My sister now has to live her life knowin’ that the supposedly smart twin banged the Antichrist! He’s lucky she only broke his nose last night,” Patience growled. Oh, she had so much more to say to the man currently illegally occupying her bed, but her back twinging interrupted at that moment. It was yet another of the early morning warning signals that her bladder was in danger of exploding if it wasn’t accommodated soon. It seemed to be just another gift that pregnancy kept on giving her. She tried to push up on the bed, only to groan as her wrist decided not to cooperate.

  Abel’s hand reached out immediately, grabbin
g her arm as she was just about to roll over. “Wanna tell me what the hell that groan was for?”

  “You wanna let go before I have an accident I haven’t had since I was in nursery school?” she snapped waspishly as she tugged her hand free and dropped her feet to the floor. “Evidently your babies are tap dancing on my bladder! Please remember that I still blame you for all of this, dumbass. And you should know, I’m not gonna be held responsible for my behavior today if that witch is still in town.”

  “I distinctly remember Zeke telling her to get the hell out of Dodge before he rode her out on a rail. And don’t worry, darlin’. You can use me as a human shield if the crazy bitch hasn’t gotten smart and left town,” Abel called out as he watched the woman he’d somehow fallen in love with make a run for her small bathroom. He ducked as one of his shoes flew in his direction just as the door slammed shut.

  Smiling as she closed the door, Patience gave herself a mental pat on the back. She’d always had good aim, but it seemed to be improving lately. She’d almost gotten him square in his noggin that time. She didn’t feel bad, either. If he was gonna leave his loafers for her to trip over, he could bear the consequences.

  Quickly performing her business, Patience was washing her hands when she wondered again why Abel had chosen to have a slumber party with her. The last thing she remembered from last night was stomping into her apartment, stripping off her clothes and falling face-first in bed. She’d barely even been aware that he’d followed her inside her apartment. Opening the bathroom door, she walked back into her loft to find Abel standing shirtless in her kitchen, his jeans hitched low on his waist. Licking her lips as he turned to face her, she said a silent prayer that she wasn’t drooling as she got an unobstructed view of his incredibly muscled chest, the ridges of his extremely touchable eight pack on full display.

  “See something you like, darlin’?” Abel asked with a cocky grin, idly scratching his chest as he eyed her.

  Shaking off her lusty libido, she forced herself to give him the evil eye. “Ever heard of a shirt, Abel?”

  “It’s hot in here,” he replied with an easy grin and careless shrug of his broad shoulders.

  Who was he tellin’, Patience thought a touch desperately as her eyes again traveled down his chest to where his happy trail disappeared into his worn jeans. Oh, how she wanted to chase that trail with her tongue…right down to where she knew it led. She was neck deep in the fantasy before she could stop herself. It sure as hell didn’t help that she knew where that trail’s final destination was. Oh yeah, it ended at the most impressive piece of manhood she’d ever seen. And by the smirk playing about Abel’s lips, he knew exactly how remarkable she thought his manhood was. Arggghhh!

  “Patience? Baby? Y’okay?” Patience heard Abel ask with a chuckle as he took a step toward her on his still bare feet. Staring dumbly down at his toes, Patience shook her head. Even his damn feet were sexy. Long and elegant. Not too small, but not overwhelmingly big….

  What the hell was wrong with her?! When the hell had she ever put that much thought into somebody’s feet. Especially Abel’s. That crap Faith had shared about pregnancy enhancing the sex drive was an understatement. She was ready to strangle Abel Turner most of the time, but she swore, if his eyes lingered on her t-shirt covered breasts a second longer, she was gonna climb him like a tree, impale herself on his long, thick branch and worry about the consequences later!

  “Patience!” Abel yelled again, his eyebrows furrowing in worry now.

  “What?!” Patience shouted back as Abel’s increasingly alarmed tone finally reached her subconscious mind.

  Abel exhaled a long, relieved breath. “Jesus, I thought you were having a seizure of some kind there for a minute. You went from ogling me to staring at my package with this blank look on your face in the space of seconds,” he grumbled. “I was trying to tell you that your phone is ringing, Hellion. This is the second time whoever it is has called.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say something?” she complained with a huff as she spun around and searched for her cell phone. Telling herself that whoever was calling at the asscrack of dawn was gonna get an earful after the night she’d had, she sighed when she finally spotted it on the floor next to where she’d thrown her keys. She made a dive for the cell just as it stopped chirping at her. “Damn it,” she groaned as the landline began to ring loudly. She climbed to her feet in time to watch Abel snatch her cordless off the wall and hold it out to her. Pursing her lips as she snatched it from his hand, she was barely civil as she answered with a sharp, “` Hello?”

  “Hey,” the caller greeted her. “It’s Honor. I know its early Can you meet me outside the café in five minutes, I’m gonna be locked out.”

  Walking to the window that overlooked the Main Street, Patience frowned. “You forgot your keys?”

  “Not so much forgot as used ‘em as a missile because they were all I had in my hand,” Patience heard her sister hedge. Even with Honor having her on speaker phone and the distance that separated them, Patience could hear the guilt coloring the younger woman’s voice.

  Lips twitching with amusement because she could almost see Honor’s blushing face, Patience dropped down on the couch. “What’d you do, sis? Am I gonna have to help you hide our hapless Sheriff’s body?”

  “I didn’t kill him… I just gave him some forceful encouragement to get the heck off our back porch. I swear, Pitty Pat, I nearly tripped over his body this morning when I tried to leave! God alone knows how long he’d been here. I told him last night I was done talkin’ ‘bout his past. It’s none of my business,” she grumbled.

  “That’s the problem, honey. Zeke wants it to be your business. He’s worried what you’ve heard about his past relationships might be influencin’ your decision about lettin’ him get closer to you. And can you honestly say that it’s not?”

  “The only thing I’m willin’ to honestly say is that I don’t want to trip over his long legs when I’m tryin’ to leave in the morning. For heaven’s sake, I think he was out there all night, Patience,” Honor worried aloud.

  “Must be something in the water,” Patience noted aloud, taking a quick look over her shoulder to see where Abel was. Finding him leaning against her stove, munching on a bowl of her Fruity Clusters, she glared. That was her sugary treat, dang it.

  “What do you mean by that?” Honor questioned suspiciously.

  Yawning as she stood and began looking for her slippers, Patience spotted them by the front door. “Evidently, Abel chose to make himself at home here last night. I woke up this morning with him hogging my covers,” she shared while trudging across the room and slipping the soft house shoes on her feet.

  “What is wrong with these men? Why do they all suddenly think they’re entitled to take over our lives?” Honor asked moodily.

  “Preach it from the mountaintops, my sister,” Patience agreed with a sigh. “Are you here yet?” she asked, squinting as she tried to see out the window from her position by the door.

  “I’m turnin’ into the parking lo--,” Honor broke off for a second only to screech a second later, “I’ll be dilly-danged! I cannot believe the nerve!”

  “Honor?” Patience called, suddenly feeling very alert. “What is it? What’s wrong?” she questioned, jerking open her front door and barely dodging Diego Fuentes as he exited his own temporary accommodations across the hall. Mouthing a quick apology to him, she gripped the café’s keys in her free hand as she held onto the bannister with the other and rushed down the stairs and out the back door into the parking lot. “Honor!” she yelled as her feet hit the gravel of the employee parking lot, Diego following closely at her heels.

  “Do you believe this?” Honor screeched as she climbed out of her Impala and jabbed an accusing finger toward the other side of the parking lot as she dropped the other hand holding the phone.

  “Believe what?” Patience yelled back, taking in Honor’s irate face at a glance before she followed the arm Honor pointed until
it reached where Angela Hastings’ rented Mercedes sat on their lot. “MotherDucker!” Patience hissed, her eyes narrowing as she took in the expensive sedan. Immediately stomping toward it as she heard the café’s door open behind her, she was almost at the passenger door when she heard Abel shouting behind her.

  “Hellion, don’t! We’ll call the police and have them deal with her. You heard Zeke last night. By being here, she’s in violation of the temporary restraining order!” Abel hollered, frowning as he registered Diego’s presence.

  “Screw the restraining order! I’m gonna kill her myself,” Patience muttered under her breath, taking another step toward the vehicle.

  “I told y’all last night a piece of paper wouldn’t stop her,” Honor replied sharply as she, too, approached the car, halting suddenly as Patience scream echoed through the parking lot.

  “Son of a bitch!” Patience screamed, freezing as she caught sight of the sole occupant of the vehicle. “Honor, stop! Don’t move!” she yelled at her sister, throwing up a hand to stop the younger woman’s progression. “You don’t wanna see this!”

  Honor froze, mid-step, paling as she stared across the roof of the car at her sister. “No. Nuh uh! I know that look, Patience Orla McKinnon!” she groaned, closing her eyes. “That’s the look you got when our restaurant became a crime scene! Tell me Angie isn’t….”

  “She’s dead,” Patience returned, swallowing hard as her stomach rolled at the sight before her.

  “Dead?” Honor echoed, her voice climbing. “You sure? How dead?” she asked urgently, biting her lip as she squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Like, really most sincerely DEAD, Honor! How much deader can you be than dead?” she retorted, growing slightly hysterical as both Diego and Abel jogged toward them. Looking in the car again, there was absolutely no mistaking Angela Hastings in the driver’s seat, dead from a single bullet hole in the center of her forehead still holding the gun in her hand.

  “Madre de Dios,” Diego muttered as he peered through the Mercedes’ window. “We must touch nothing,” he said, urging Honor back another step.