So Trashy (Bad Boy Next Door Book 2) Read Free

ball cap to Lou.
    She rolls her eyes. “ Boss ? That’s just fucking
weird.”
    “What’s weird is that beautiful mouth dropping cusswords
like that. The Loula Mae I remember didn’t curse much.”
    “ That Loula Mae is buried in the dirt at Paris
Island. Sweated and bled out during thirteen weeks of hell, which is exactly
what I wanted. I left on a mission to reinvent myself.” She lifts her chin a
notch or two. “The new and improved Lou stands before you.”
    “Well, I liked the original Lou.” Everything about her.
    She narrows her eyes. “Sure you did. That’s why you left her
here while you ran off to California to chase your dreams and never looked
back, or called—not once.”
    I cringe. “Not fair—you and I agreed, and that was the
plan—”
    She throws up her hand. “Just forget it. I came over because
Aunt Delores wants to know if you’ve got a dick. I told her you are one,
but I’m not really sure if you still have one.”
    “Is that right?” The humor of Delores wanting to know what
I’ve got tucked into my jeans takes me by surprise, and a chuckle bursts out.
    I flick open the button at my waistband. “You can assure
her, I’m well equipped for whatever task may be necessary.”
    “Don’t bother. I’ve seen it; I don’t need to see it again.”
    Her mouth says she doesn’t want it, but her eyes can’t seem
to leave my open fly. I zip up and push the button back through the hole. “You
change your mind, just let me know. Until then, what does sweet Delores need?”
    Lou turns to leave, calling over her shoulder, “She wants
some help with a plumbing problem and won’t let me call an actual plumber. So,
if you wouldn’t mind bringing some tools over and helping her out, she’d
appreciate it.”
    Plumbing. Tools. Lou.
    God bless Delores Dubois.
    Back at the table, I settle in to finish my sandwich.
    Nan pats my arm. “So, what did Loula Mae want?”
    Trudi and the crew turn their attention to me.
    Fuck.
    I’m an actor. Okay, so act damn it. Be nonchalant. “Apparently
Delores has a plumbing issue she needs help with. I’ll go over after lunch.”
    Trudi perks up. “Oh, that’ll be perfect. We can get footage
of you doing some manly work, helping out your neighbor. That’ll be great
stuff. You think this Delores lady will sign a release?”
    My stomach plummets to my ass.
    Pops pipes up. “Oh, I bet Delores would be tickled.”
    I throw him a look. He shrugs.
    I shake my head. “No, y’all can stay here and interview Nan
and Pops while I’m next door. It probably won’t take long. Delores is a
live-wire, you may not even be able to use the footage. No telling what’ll come
out of that mouth.”
    Trudi’s eyes practically sparkle. “Even better. I’ll head
over after I eat and see if I can get her to sign a waiver.”
    Fucking great. Just what I need, them getting Loula Mae on
camera. Who knows what she’ll say, or do? Especially after her little suck or
fuck speech earlier. It’s obvious she’s still pissed.
    What the fuck was I thinking? I can’t believe I let Bob talk
me into doing this Celebrity Homecoming show. Managers. What the hell do they
know anyway?
    This was supposed to be easy. A reality show to help people
see the real me and increase my fan base. A few weeks at home, visiting
old hangouts, talking with some high school buddies, seeing my elementary
teachers. Maybe even checking in on a couple of old girlfriends. Let them meet
the family, see where I came from.
    Lou wasn’t supposed to be in town. She was safely in California
when I signed that fucking contract. Maybe she’s not staying long. That would
be best.
    Yeah, Fucktard. That’s what’s best, but it’s the last thing
you want.
    Trudi all but inhales her lunch and darts out the door before
I can talk her out of this.
    Fuck. My. Life.
    I gather some tools. By the time I’m ready to head across
the field, she’s back, all happy and waiving a piece of paper.
    “I got it! She’s agreed