Out of Bounds by Kris Pearson

on
that,” she said. “But is this for real? What time?”
    “Of course it’s for real,” Ben said. “We
wouldn’t tempt you with the divine Patrick and then not
deliver.”
    “Nine-thirty,” Hallie added, “so there’s time
for a look at your house first. And we can stay in town for a drink
afterward, yeah?”
    Jetta checked her watch. “Are we finished
here?” she asked.
    Empty glasses thudded down onto the table in
unison.
    “Okay,” she agreed. “House inspection
time.”
    “I’ll come over in a minute and take some of that
tape off,” Anton said, but the girls were already rising and
chattering like a flock of colorful birds.
    He watched as they strolled off arm in
arm—Bren in a small electric-blue and white dress, Hallie in a
flirty gold skirt and violet blouse, and Jetta sandwiched between
them in her slippery red top and snug fitting black leather
trousers.
    Not quite sex in the city. But certainly sex
in the suburbs.
     

CHAPTER FIVE
    “You see—we really did buy you a housewarming
present,” Hallie teased, reaching down for a gift-wrapped box
hidden behind the pot of petunias on the lowest step. “Just a
little something to remind you of us when you’re gone.”
    “Whenever that might be,” Jetta
grumped, levering the pot up so she could grab the keys just as
Anton arrived.
    “I hope you don’t always leave them there,”
he said, scowling.
    “Only when my trousers are so tight the bulge
in the pocket would spoil the line,” she said, light-headed with
champagne, and wanting to annoy him. “I hardly needed to bring my
bag next door.”
    “Save me from stupid women,” he muttered.
    “Not stupid at all,” she snapped. “The keys
were perfectly safe here. I was only over the fence.”
    “This time.”
    “We heard Bren and Hallie knocking, so we
would have heard burglars.”
    Anton drew an annoyed breath, and she
enjoying the way his nostrils flared and his chest firmed up inside
the spice-brown shirt. Did his narrowed eyes spit blue sparks?
    “Yeah—burglars always knock like they’re
trying to break the door down,” he said through clenched teeth.
    “Don’t be so uptight—your precious house is
perfectly safe.”
    “My house ? It’s not the house I’m
worried about. That’s the last thing on my mind.” He glared at her.
“Have you been sleeping here and leaving the keys outside?”
    “Och, he’s going all protective,” Bren
cooed.
    “Of course I haven’t!”
    “Almost like a lovers’ tiff,” Hallie
agreed.
    “Like hell,” Anton threw in her
direction.
    Jetta dropped the keys, bent with difficulty
in her tight trousers, picked them up again, and fumbled until she
found the right one. The front door swung open with a horror-movie
creak.
    “Welcome to my humble abode,” she said,
sketching as much of a curtsey as she could. The gift-wrapped box
jangled as she flung her arms wide. “What the...?” she exclaimed,
giving it a firmer shake. This time it sounded very annoyed.
    “For your garden,” Bren said.
    “A dinner gong?”
    “Open it, stupid. Can we come inside?”
    Jetta switched on the light and they trooped
in.
    “The main hallway,” she said in her best tour guide
voice. “Walls will soon be white. Boards will soon be bare. This
way to the sitting room.”
    Anton sauntered in behind them and continued
through to the kitchen. The pink cupboard doors offended him too—no
wonder Jetta hated them. But it was absolutely not worth it for the
short term. Unless...
    He remembered the small cans of Burmese
Bronze and Coconut Milk paint he’d bought for his sample boards. He
had plenty left in each. If he combined them—even sloshed a bit of
white in to bulk up the volume—they’d come somewhere close to the
sisal color she’d described.
    That’d sweeten her up. Maybe make her easier
to live with. Even though it wasn’t the hard glossy enamel paint he
really needed, it would last long enough.
    He grinned to himself and turned away to his
clean