Nothing but Trouble (Chinooks #5) Read Online Free PDF Page A

you, Boo.”
    “Love you too, Chels. Sorry I said that about your clothes. I know what you wear is important to you.” Bo gave her a little squeeze, and she could hear the smile in her sister’s voice. “They’re not all that discordant.”
    “Thanks. And your clothes aren’t all that boring.” Chelsea laughed. “At least we’ve never had to fight about clothes, like some sisters.”
    “True. Or boys.”
    Dating had always been tricky. For some reason, if either she or Bo turned a guy down, he’d ask out the other twin. But the sisters never fought over boys because they were attracted to opposite sorts of men. So it had never been a problem. “That’s because you’ve always dated geeky mama’s boys, and I’ve always dated smooth-talking losers. We should both start dating out of our type.”
    Bo held up one hand in front of Chelsea and they high-fived. “I don’t want to think about you leaving. So let’s not talk about it for at least three months.”
    “Okay.”
    “What are you going to wear to work your first day?”
    Chelsea thought of the man who’d insulted her intelligence and her clothes. “I have a Gaultier tunic that I wear with a belt and skinny jeans.” If Mark didn’t like Pucci, he was going to hate her feather-print Gaultier.
    “Take it easy on the poor guy, Chels,” Bo said through a big yawn. “He’s only been out of the rehab hospital for a month. I don’t know if his body can take the shock.”
     
     
    Light from the sixty-inch television screen bounced and shifted across Mark’s bare chest. His right hand squeezed a stress ball as he watched highlights from last night’s game. He sat on a leather sofa in his master bedroom, a black outline in the darkness. The sports coverage changed from the Stanley Cup highlights to that morning’s interview inside the Key. He watched himself and wondered how he could look so normal, sound so normal. The accident that had broken his bones had ripped out his soul. He was empty inside, and into the void had leaked a black rage. It was something he couldn’t get over. Had never tried to get over. Without his anger he was hollow.
    With his free hand, he lifted the remote and pointed at the TV. His thumb slid across the up arrow and he skimmed past reality shows and cable reruns. He paused on a porno on Cinemax. On the screen, two women went at it like cats, cleaning each other with their tongues. They had nice tits, shaved coochies, and stripper heels. Normally, it was the sort of high-class entertainment he would have enjoyed. One of the women stuck her face between the other’s legs, and Mark watched for a few moments…waiting.
    Nothing lifted his boxer briefs and he hit the off button, plunging the room into darkness. He tossed the gel-filled ball on the couch beside him and pushed himself off the couch. He hadn’t had a decent erection since before the accident, he thought as he walked across the room to his bed. It was probably the drugs. Or perhaps his dick just didn’t work anymore. Surprising that it didn’t bother him as much as it should.
    Given his sex life before, not getting it up should freak him out. He’d always been able to get it up. Day or night, didn’t matter. He’d always been ready to go. It had never taken much to get him in the mood. Now, not even hot lesbian porn interested him.
    Mark shoved back the thick covers on his bed and crawled inside. He was just a shell of the man he’d been. So pathetic that he might have reached for the bottle of pills sitting on his nightstand and put an end to it all if that hadn’t been even more pathetic. If that wasn’t the chickenshit way out.
    Mark had never taken the chickenshit way out of anything. He hated weakness, which was one of the reasons he hated having those home health care workers around, taking his pulse and checking his medication.
    Within a few minutes, his Ambien kicked in and he slipped into a deep, restful sleep and dreamed the only dream he’d