day.”
Standing with a boost from Zeke, Ginny dusted off the seat of her jeans and draped her throw around her shoulders.
“We keep you old folks up past your bedtime?” someone called.
“Nahhh … Zeke’s just feeling horny. Enjoy the shadow show and don’t let the noises worry you, boys,” Ginny murmured huskily, tossing the smart-ass a small tube of hand lotion from her purse. “Tonight’s entertainment is on me.”
Zeke pulled her close with a chuckle as they left the bonfire’s light to raucous laughter and lewd comments.
“You kiss me with that mouth, Mrs. Brawer?”
“Among other things, stud,” she purred.
Chapter Seven
A low menacing growl drug Ginny from sleep. Gooseflesh rose on her skin as she reached for the nightstand. Slipping the nickel-plated Beretta from the drawer, she rolled out of bed and grabbed her robe. Tying the sash, she peeked down the hallway. Whistling softly, she was relieved when Gunny joined her. The hair on the huge Mastiff’s back stood up and another growl rumbled in his chest. Rounding the corner to the dining room, Gunny stalked to the sliding doors, his growl deepening.
Easing to the side of the door, Ginny scanned the shadows for what was unnerving the dog. Her heart thundered in her chest. Her ears strained, hoping for the roar of Zeke’s Harley. Leaving earlier, he had only said he had business to take care of. He would have her ass for not waking up the boys, but Lords or not, they were her babies. Something moved at the edge of the glass and she gripped the Beretta. Her brow furrowed as the shadow moved across the door. Steadying her hand, she shifted her body against the wall to flip the patio light on.
A terrified scream tore from her throat before she could stifle it. Stumbling back from the glass, she caught the hem of her robe on a cast iron plant stand, overturning it with a crash. The basement door burst open admitting her two eldest armed and dangerous. In Mox’s capable hands the assault rifle looked like a toy, but the gleam in his blue eyes was anything but playful. Rhys held up a staying hand to Garrett on the steps as he took in the source of his mother’s fright. Laying a calming hand over the top of the Beretta, he slid it from her grasp.
“That’s some pretty big firepower for a little spider, Ma,” he said in a teasing tone.
Ginny brushed nervously at her skin as she turned away from the patio door. “That’s no little spider,” she whispered. “And something out there is upsetting Gunny.”
Knowing her true terror of arachnids, Mox moved for the patio and tarantula. “I’ll take care of it, Gin,” he soothed.
Scrambling the rest of the way up the stairs, Garrett set the sawed off shotgun to the side and hurried to check out the spider.
“Rhys, you’re going to want to see this,” Mox muttered from the doorway.
Rhys rolled his eyes in disgust. “Jesus, Mox, it’s a freaking spider.”
“Whoa!” Garrett yelled. “There’re hundreds of them!”
Ginny shuddered, her hands still flitting over her hair and the back of her neck in paranoia. She inched further away from the patio door as a second spider started to scale the glass.
Rhys ran a weary hand over his face as his eyes raked over the backyard. His little brother wasn’t exaggerating by much. Tarantulas crept across the visible portion of the yard and cobblestones, slinking into the flower gardens and landscaping. Not native to the mid-west, there was no way an infestation of this type was a natural occurrence.
Zeke brushed his fingers feather-light across his pouting wife’s nape. A chuckle accompanied the grunt as she elbowed him in the gut.
“You’re such a baby,” he mumbled.
“They are poisonous.”
“They’re venomous,” he corrected. “A tarantula’s bite doesn’t hurt any worse than a bee sting, and I don’t see you getting all in a sissy girl panic every time you see a bee or wasp.”
“I can’t
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