Page 10 of Meant for Mayhem

Fate chose for me, because the bin I’d shoved partially over the top of the stairs chose that moment to lose its battle with gravity.

The crack of plastic splitting was the only warning I got. One sharp, decisive snap and then the whole front face of the tote gave way. I didn’t have time to turn around before the sound hit me: the roar as an avalanche of romance novels cascaded down the staircase, picking up speed with every step. They hit the foyer floor like a wave breaking and then kept on coming—straight through the open front door and onto the porch around my feet.

I didn’t move.

The novels fanned out across the porch in every direction, some skidding to the edge of the steps, one brave paperback making it to the bottom stair.

Bare chest.

Billowing white shirt.

One particularly enthusiastic cover model ripping his costar’s corset down the front.

As if that wasn’t humiliating enough, then the clothes came.

I’d shoved them between the books to save space, which had seemed efficient at the time and now seemed like the single worst decision of my adult life.

Two band tees.

A black dress I’d never worn.

And then a pair of red lace panties that caught the breeze rolled through the open door like a tiny, devastating sail.

They landed on the shrubs right in front of my face, practically a flashing arrow pointing toward where I still crouched behind the bushes.

I went still, like maybe if I didn’t move, the universe would take mercy on me and rewind the last thirty seconds.

I was never that lucky.

The silence afterward was deafening, not even the wind daring to make a sound. I crouched among the wreckage and slowly raised my eyes to everyone at the bottom of the porch steps.

Beckett had a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking.

The little girl was completely still against Mikko’s chest, her wide eyes taking it all in.

Mikko’s gaze bounced between the novels, my clothes, and my face, not sure where to look. And who could blame him?

The heat crawling up my neck was nothing short of catastrophic, but I released a slow breath, stood up with my chin raised, and met his gaze with every ounce of dignity I had left.

“They’re not mine.”

3

“I didn’t take you for a panty thief, but okay,” Beckett laughed.

Shannon, however… Oh, she didn’t laugh.

Any inkling of embarrassment went out the window as she reached forward and yanked the red lace off the bushes and shoved them into her pocket. “If only your brain was as smart as your mouth, Conway.”

Leena squirmed in my arms until I set her down on the ground. I focused on her, because anything was better than looking at Shannon, not while the sight of her underwear anchored me on the edge of yet another panic attack.

Beckett moved before I did, stepping toward the house and grabbing the surrounding books. “Do you have another box we can use?”

Shannon sighed, then bent down to pick up the ones around her. “Leave it.”

“The last time you told me not to help almost buried you in Fabios, so I can’t do that.”

“Well, don’t just stand there,” Lori said from the doorway. She lifted the hand not holding her purple cane and waved at me, then at my daughter. “Welcome, Mikko. You brought your sweet baby girl.”