the basajaun did only eat the flowers, not the stems. He made an awful mess when he was permitted to eat the flowers, but at the moment he does not have permission, so maybe he is showing restraint. I can’t think of anyone else that could sneak onto these lands without anyone knowing. Ivy House would alert us if it were anyone dangerous, though her lax treatment of flower theft is a dereliction of duty, in my opinion, even if it was deer. Which it still could be, even though deer poop gets all over. I haven’t seen any poop.”
“All animals poop,” Austin said, trying to step lightly through the flowers. A calla lily crunched under his boot. Edgar drew in a sharp breath. “I don’t see any tracks.”
“Correct. No hooves. Deer leave hoofprints—”
“We get it,” Niamh said. “You don’t think it’s a deer.”
“The basajaun didn’t leave any tracks when he ransacked my flowers the first time,” Edgar said. “Their magic keeps them from being detected in that way. No poop, and no tracks.”
Austin turned as Jess reemerged from the house in a flowing tent of a dress that blew against her side and outlined a shapely hip. He meant to turn away, his body tightening, but instead followed the outline to the swell of her full breast, unencumbered by a bra. A familiar ache overcame him as he watched her legs churn the fabric, sucking it into creases he’d dreamt of exploring. With his tongue.
He ripped his gaze away and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “I’ll speak to Jess. Maybe it’s time to head up the mountain. That basajaun has a soft spot for her. I doubt it’ll lie.”
“Speak to me about what?” she said as she reached them.
“Visiting your hairy friend on his mountain. Maybe you can finally try your hand at scaring hikers.”
He earned a smile. “I’d be up for it. But we have to be back by dinner or my mother will pitch a fit.”
Austin looked back at the house, seeing Cedric jogging toward them, often late to the party, Earl not in tow. “No Earl?”
She rolled her eyes, resting her hand on his arm and nudging him toward the trees.
“No,” she said dryly, steering him deeper into the wood with the rest falling in behind them, Ulric and Jasper flanking the group. “He’s staying behind to, quote, make the parents more comfortable, unquote. What he’s really doing is protecting his interests. He doesn’t like that my mom is cooking and cleaning. It’s stressing him out. I think he is determined to wait on her whether she likes it or not. Unfortunately, she has the same end game with him. She’s about to go to the grocery store and Mr. Tom is trying to head her off. It’s warfare in there.”
“It’s funny,” Ulric said. “They are out-helping each other. Jessie’s mom doesn’t seem to notice the tiff, but Mr. Tom is getting more wound up by the second.”
“It’s only funny because it isn’t your mom and butler,” Jess said.
“This is true.”
She curled her hand around Austin’s arm. “This close enough?” She looked up at him as they walked, using her other hand to pull out the deep brown fabric covering her athletic frame. “You said to wear a muumuu, right?” She laughed, clearly delighted. “It’s actually a great idea for when we change. One piece of clothing, no stress.”
“That is a good idea,” Niamh said. “Have Earl order me one or two. Something other than brown, though. You look like a stack of turd.”
“No undies? For shame,” Ulric cried. “What has happened to your modesty?”
“You’ve all ruined me,” Jess replied, laughing.
Austin gritted his teeth, trying not to think about what was under that drab brown fabric.
He stopped, ripped off his shirt, and tossed it at Niamh to put in the sack. “Let’s get to it. We don’t want to be late for dinner.”
Six
Pete sat on an overly hot blanket that unfortunately made his begonias sweat in the pretty comfortable, though a little stiff, armchair, watching a huge TV with crystal-clear clarity that hinted at the finer things in life. Amazing how a few more pixels meant all the difference at halftime.
He glanced at the wooden fireplace mantel, a pretty neat old-school carving that really lent some class to the place. Real craftsmanship had gone into that mantel; he could tell by the quality work and attention to detail. Unfortunately, that attention to detail was starting to wear on his grasp of reality.