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  All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design: Valerie Tibbs

  Pretty in Pink © December 2010 Sommer Marsden

  eXcessica publishing

  All rights reserved

  Pretty in Pink

  By Sommer Marsden

  Chapter 1

  "You are not putting that thing in my front yard, Janette," Charlie Brewster said.

  "Oh, snap the hell out of it, big brother, it'll make your niece happy. And she has begged to come to her favorite uncle's house immediately after school. It's a present from Clarice. Are you really going to say no?"

  Arrests didn't scare him. Paperwork didn't scare him. Undercover, red tape, interrogations and mostly even handguns didn't scare him. Hurting his precious niece scared the hell out of him. Charlie blew out a sigh and ran a hand through his short sandy hair. He grunted, he needed a cut soon. "Fine, fine, put it out front."

  When Janette pulled out the Santa outfit and started to dress the flamingo, he almost changed his mind. But this was Clarice and Charlie just couldn't say no. She tweaked the festive hat. “There,” his sister laughed and out the door she went, planting the dreaded pink bird in his front lawn.

  Charlie had been in the house for about eight months and so far she had invaded with matching, fancy curtains, throw pillows, an umbrella stand shaped like an elephant foot and a Welcome mat with ivy around the edges. Every damn time Janette got her way with, “Clarice picked it out.”

  Then Charlie would cave and let her have her way. He’d even strung colored lights outside for Christmas, though Christmas was the last thing he wanted to focus on. Priscilla had left him not too long ago for the guy who owned the Corner Tavern and Charlie just wanted to work overtime for the holidays.

  It had been a few months, but how fast was your heart supposed to rebound from a woman who’d stomped all over it and dumped you out of the blue? How fast did you get over two years of what you thought was love? And how fast did you get over it when you hadn’t seen it coming?

  If he closed his eyes, he could still see her there under him, pale skin freckled, her long red hair flashing around her bare breasts. He’d taken her nipple into his mouth with intent. Sucked hard so she hissed the way she did when he really turned her on. Charlie had buried himself in her, thrusting hard to feel that slick warm heat of her pussy growing tighter and tighter as he moved. He’d kissed her, the way he always did, like he loved her. Because he had.

  Priscilla had given no hint at her intent. She’d wrapped her long, long legs around his waist and pulled her body up to meet him, greet him, and take him in. She’d nipped at his neck and scraped her long pink nails along his back so that he moaned against her temple. She knew how to give him just enough hurt to make his cock rock hard. She’d come with a fierce, sharp cry, her pussy gripping up around him with liquid intensity. Charlie had come too. Happy, sated, loose with his release. He pressed his lips to hers again, almost said I love you, but Priscilla had turned. “We have to talk,” she said. “I have someone else.”

  And that had been that. He shook his head, far away in his last night with his ex.

  “Hey! Snap out of it. She wasn’t worth it Charlie.” Janette snapped her fingers in his face, reading his mind. They were twins. He was her big brother, older than her by three minutes and seventeen seconds. And Clarice was the spitting image of her mother at five which meant she hugely resembled Charlie too.

  “I know. And get out of my head, she-devil. When does my lovely niece come to visit? Doesn’t she want to see all her decorator touches?”

  “I’ll bring her by after school today, how’s that? Today is a big day. Christmas celebration in Kindergarten is a big deal.”

  “No doubt.” Charlie stared out the window at the flamingo planted below his one tree. A short, stocky, Cherry tree he’d strung with big colored lights to appease his sister.

  His neighbor, Kimber, made her way up her walk, slipping for a moment on a mound of snow. She clutched at the other woman—who practically lived there—and let out a whoop. Charlie smiled.

  “She’s cute.” Janette looked out the dining room window simultaneously.

  “Don’t even go there.”

  “But she is.”

  “She sure is. She’s phenomenal. However, she’s right next door. And you don’t mix neighboring with pleasure. And you don’t do that especially right after a break up.”

  “It’s been months,” Janette sighed.

  “But it was years,” he reminded her. “I’m done with women,” he said, half meaning it.

  “Yeah? Cause you know I have a great boss. He’s tall and dark and handsome. He’s hot, he’s funny, he’s—”

  “Janette, you know damn well what I mean.” Charlie watched Kimber unlock her front door. The wind kicked up again and snatched her red, knit cap as her long, dark hair flew out behind her. She caught the cap in flight and another loud whoop escaped her. Her friend, a red head with a blue cap, shook her head and laughed. He'd met Kimber a handful of times and every time her mannerisms and her voice turned him on. So he'd kept their meetings brief.

  Charlie smiled again. Damn if his sister didn’t catch him.

  “She really is cute.”

  “Shut it, sis.”

  “Jeeze. Grumpy much?” She shrugged and kissed his cheek. “I have to hit the bank and then I’ll be back with one persnickety, picky, fabulous five-year-old. She will critique Uncle Charlie’s new house and we will make adjustments.”

  Charlie laughed. Funny thing was, she wasn’t joking. Clarice would come in and tell him how it needed to be, and because he adored her more than anything, he’d go for it. “Can’t wait.”

  “Look at you, you big pushover. If she came in here and demanded you paint the whole house hot pink, you’d do it.”

  “Probably,” Charlie said and let her out. His eyes found the flamingo again and he shook his head.

  “Don’t even think about moving that!” Janette yelled, laughing.

  Charlie continued shaking his head and went inside. He had the day off and wanted to finally go about the task of making the house his. He had a feeling his niece would demand a Christmas tree and he wanted to have the house ready..

  * * * *

  “He is a Hottie Hotterson,” Sarah said, her face pressed to Kimber’s kitchen window.

  The big, brawny, blond man waved to a woman who could only be his sister. Most likely a twin. She was so much his duplicate it was eerie.

  “He’s gay,” Kimber said, putting the kettle on to boil.

  “What? He is so not gay. He can’t be gay. God wouldn’t do that to us. That would be cruel.”

  Kimber laughed and twisted her hair up behind her in a knot. Then she pulled out some cookies from the cupboard. They’d done a lot today, scoping out an office for their temp agency. They both had experience as temps and knew a slew of women who would love to work their own hours and part-time. So an idea had been bor
n. Smart Help Temporary Agency run by Kimber Daniels and Sarah Knight. “He’s gay, trust me. My gaydar is beeping like a rat bastard.”

  “Did you see his abs?” Sarah sighed.

  “No. And neither did you. He had a shirt on.”

  “The abs were implied.”

  Kimber laughed and put her head down. “Gay, gay and gay.”

  “Why do you say that? Site your source,” Sarah said. Too many hours temping in a law office, she had the legal lingo down. A legalese spewing Kindergarten helper. Crazy. And now they were both working part-time and setting up full-time. It was exhausting.

  “He is tall, blond, handsome, cut, and has a smile like a toothpaste commercial.”

  “But—”

  “Hold on.” Kimber held up a finger. “Let me finish.”

  “Go on, you party pooper. But for the record, I don't believe you. It's your safety net, writing them all off as gay. If you stamp him gay or unavailable, he can't hurt you.”

  “Thank you, and duly noted, Dr. Shrink person. Now, ahem, as I was saying. He dresses nice and I’ve seen him in uniform; he’s a police officer. Neat as a pin. He has matching curtains in his front window already.”

  “So?”

  “So? So, when is the last time you met a straight man who put matching-nice- curtains in his window immediately upon arrival into a new house?”

  “Hmm,” Sarah said and shook her head. “I still think you want him to be gay. Then all of the kingdom known as your neighborhood would be safe for you.”

  The kettle whistled. Kimber snatched it and poured hot water over the tea bags. “Thank you, again, Dr. Freud. I won’t even mention that charming flamingo he put up when we were outside earlier.”

  “What flamingo?”

  “You know you need to become more observant if you’re going to run a business with me.” Kimber handed Sarah a mug and they both pressed their faces to the window again, studying Charlie Brewster’s home. “It really is a shame.”

  “But you could be wrong. So what? So it’s a flamingo. Don’t judge a man by his lawn ornaments. Especially his sexual preference. I guess Doms should have whips planted in their front yards?” Sarah shut her eyes, laughing. Sometimes the woman just cracked herself up.

  Kimber shook her head, but couldn’t swallow her laughter. “Sarah, you nut, it’s dressed like Santa Claus.” She took a sip of her tea. The hot liquid burned her tongue, but the almond cookies were calling her anyway. She hadn't eaten all damn day. Too nervous. At least starting this company had kept her distracted from John not being the one. And Tad. Sam, Bryce and Chris. Two years of loser after loser after loser. She had officially written off men. Forever.

  “So, what? He’s festive. He likes his…um…flamingo to be in the spirit?”

  Kimber laughed. “Yeah. It’s festive all right. Now search your memory banks, best friend of mine.”

  “Yeah?” Sarah sipped her tea and then dumped four teaspoons of sugar into her mug.

  “My god, it’s a marvel you have teeth in your head,” Kimber said. “Now close your eyes.”

  Sarah’s big blue eyes slipped shut and she shook her head, her red hair swaying around her round, smiling face in a wave of fire. “Ready!”

  “I want you to think about it and tell me…”

  “Yes?”

  “The last straight man you met who was not only a) neat as a pin, b) tasteful and house decorating conscious, but c) liked to put a holiday appropriate bird in his front yard.”

  Sarah blew out a sigh. “Well, shit.”

  “Exactly.” Kimber sighed. “And it really is a shame, because he’s hot.”

  * * * *

  “Uncle Charlie?”

  Charlie turned and scooped Clarice up in his arms. He didn't think he could love her any more if she were his own. “Yes, ma’am? How was your school Christmas party?”

  “I like your curtains…”

  “Thank you.”

  She nodded as if her acceptance was the seal of approval. “And the party was great. It was really great. I got a lollipop that we were allowed to dress as Santa. And then I got a goodie bag!”

  “A goodie bag! Full of what?”

  Clarice threw her head back and laughed. Her little white teeth flashing in the sun that streamed through his kitchen window. “Why, goodies, silly!”

  Charlie smacked his own forehead (a bit too hard because his ears started to ring) and said. “Duh! What was I thinking?”

  Janette watched from the kitchen door, smiling and laughing. She’d told him once that nothing made Clarice happier than spending time with him, and that she loved to see them together.

  Clarice turned to her mother and waved. “What was Uncle Charlie thinking?”

  “I have no idea.” Janette shrugged. Her phone rang and she dug it from her pocket. She held a finger up to Charlie and left the room.

  “I like your mat out front, too.” Clarice said to him.

  “I heard you picked it out.” He stood at the window, holding her. They watched the birds pick through the snow for crumbs he’d thrown out. Oddly, he’d seen Kimber Daniels do the same thing. She also threw nuts from her back deck for the squirrels, and he’d even seen her toss out apples and other fruit. It was only December and they were already on their third decent snow fall. It would most likely be a rough winter for everyone.

  Clarice whispered in his ear, “Mommy helped me out. A little.”

  “Ah, I see how that works, then.” So Janette was pretty much decorating his house and saying that Clarice was picking it out to get her way. He could live with that. Not so horrible to have someone who loves you or looks out for you. Or wants you to have matching curtains and a welcome mat.

  “Where’d Mommy go?”

  “Phone call. Look at that squirrel.”

  “I see him. He’s a hungry bunny,” Clarice laughed.

  “He’s a squirrel!” Charlie teased.

  “You know what I mean. Don’t be difficult,” Clarice said, smiling.

  “You are your mother’s daughter.”

  Charlie stared at the kitchen window opposite his, willing her to appear there. Her long, brown hair and shining face. He had to admit, his heart had sped up pretty well when she’d turned that first day and waved to him, yelling, Hello, there, neighbor! He’d been smitten. But he’d chew busted glass before he’d admit it.

  “What are you thinking about?” Clarice asked.

  “The pretty lady next door,” Charlie said and sighed.

  Okay so he’d chew busted glass before he’d admit it to an adult. That was the beauty of kids. You could tell them the truth.

  Clarice nodded sagely. “Of course. Mommy said she’s very pretty.”

  “She did? Hmm. Of course, she did. She’s your mommy and she’s the nosiest nosy ever.”

  Clarice nodded again. “I know it.”

  Charlie chuckled. He willed Kimber to show up in the window again, but she didn’t.

  Clarice took his face in her hands and said, very seriously, “Why are you a scum women?”

  “What?”

  “Mommy said you scum women.”

  Scum? Scam? Shun! “I shun women.”

  “Yeah, that. Why?”

  “I’ve had bad luck is all,” Charlie said. “But you were closer than you thought.”

  Clarice looked very somber and then she grinned and smacked his cheeks lightly with her still-chubby hands. “You know what you need, Uncle Charlie?”

  “What, baby?”

  “A makeover!”

  Charlie groaned, but there was a rumble of a laugh in there. “Hmm. Well, see, about your makeov—”

  “Charlie?”

  He glanced up to see Janette in the doorway looking a bit flustered. “Yeah, what’s up?”

  “Gotta run to the realtor’s office. It’s just a snafu with the new house but…can I—”

  “Sure. I’m off for a few days. Tonight’s clear, I’ll spot her ‘til you get back.”

  Janette blew out t
he breath she’d been holding and smiled. “Baby, I'll be right back. Uncle Charlie’s going to let you stay here, and he’ll make you a grilled cheese.”

  “With soup?” Clarice examined his face, and he tried not to grin.

  He might not be ready to speak to the lovely Kimber Daniels and he might have inappropriate thoughts about her when he saw her, but the only person in the world who could wipe his mind of that kind of worry was here. Little Miss Clarice who ruled his world with an iron fist, a curling wand, and some horrible makeup that she bought at the discount store.

  “With soup,” he confirmed.

  “And he will let me make him pretty?” Clarice said in her slyest voice.

  Janette snorted, trying not to look too amused. Her eyes found Charlie's and he shook his head. But then Charlie caved. “Yes, you can make me pretty.”

  Janette covered her mouth, but he could tell she stifled a laugh. Horrible, evil, twin sister.

  “Be nice to Uncle Charlie.”

  “I will. I’m in a blue kind of mood,” Clarice said.

  “Of course you are,” Janette said, her voice strangled, and then she quickly retreated before he could change his mind.

  * * * *

  “What was that?” Kimber grabbed Sarah’s hand.

  “What?”

  “It was like groaning metal mixed with a scream,” Kimber whispered.

  “Do you think it’s a monster? Why are you whispering? You are insane, woman!”

  “Well, I…I don’t know. What was that Sar? Seriously? This is my house, you know I get freaked when I think it’s…broken.”

  “Like when you cried for four hours because your toilet backed up?” Sarah snorted, choked on a cookie and rushed to blow her nose. “Damn.”

  “Well…yeah! You know I get a little…flustered.”

  “Birds being shot at get a little flustered. You get freaked the fuck out.”

  The groan and squeal happened again and this time they both jumped, clutching at each other and doing an odd mix of screaming and laughing. “Call John! Call John!” Sarah—the ‘brave one’—yelled.

  John was the last ex. John was the one who’d sat and told Kimber over and over that she wasn’t smart enough, savvy enough, quick enough to start her own business. Especially not with a woman who always acted as if it were party time. John had not been Sarah’s biggest fan, but Kimber had kept that from her friend. No reason to hurt Sarah’s feelings over a guy who clearly wasn’t worth muddying up her mental space. Before John had been Tad who’d told her that she had child bearing hips and of course if they ever got married she’d understand that he carry on the tradition of the men in his family of keeping a mistress. Before him had been Sam the drug dealer and before him Bryce who was still technically married and had forgotten to tell her.