Hi friends! Sorry for the delay. Totally my fault :X If you’re totally new to A Little Bit Tart, A Little Bit Sweet (ALBTALBS), you’ve been missing out on spoof were-animal stories! More recently we’ve had a specific sort, that was going up weekly, but I broke the pattern. But have no fear! Today we have the last but definitely not least installment of this “series.” So, enjoy!
Night of the Were-Hare
Of all the places to have a flat tire Clyde had to choose this stretch of lonely highway. The highway Katie’s GPS had her believing was a shortcut back to civilization. Katie kicked the front tire of her ancient 1982 Pontiac Bonneville, cursing whoever had used an air-wrench to tighten the lug nuts to the point where only someone with super human strength could loosen them. She leaned inside the open passenger side window, grabbed her cell phone off the seat, cursed again when she got exactly zero bars.
She had exactly three options. Stay on this secluded piece of shit road hoping someone who wasn’t a serial killer drove by and was willing to help. Hoof it out on her own. In the heels she had on for the wedding. Over the decaying road. For who knew how many miles.
Or drive out of here on the flatter than a pancake tire, risking damage to the rim.
She slunk against the car, not caring that the pale blue silk gown she wore was getting dirty. The dress was going into the trash as soon as she got home. If she could toss the whole evening in the trash. Sure, her BFF was happily married to her plus one, and Katie guessed she should be happy for Sandra and Cora instead of standing on the side of the road to hell wishing she was already at home soaking in a tub while sipping a very large glass of wine.
It was all his fault. Austin, Cora’s bestie, and best man to her maid of honor. Creep extraordinaire who thought it was his right to claim the maid of honor as his prize for the evening. After the punch to the balls she gave him Katie hoped sincerely he wouldn’t be able to get it up any time soon. If ever.
She shivered a little, thought it was from the cool evening air settling down around her and not the colony of rabbits that were sitting in the field across the road staring at her, and pushed herself away from the car, shoulders slumped and hands tightened into tight fists. With night coming she really had two options. No way was she going to walk out there on her own. She had seen enough horror movies with Sandra and the chick who was stupid enough to walk down a freaky ass road in the middle of the night always got herself killed.
And Monty Python made a great case for vampire rabbits. She looked at the rabbits again, shuddering just a little. Had some of them gotten closer?
Looking at her phone one more time in the vain hope she would get at least enough reception to send a quick text, she walked toward the driver’s side. And almost dropped her phone when the largest jackrabbit she had ever seen hopped across the road. Toward her.
She wasn’t ashamed to admit the sight of Bunnicula stopped her in her tracks. That she may have squeaked a little, eyeing the rabbit for signs of rabies. Rabbits could get rabies, right? But there was no frothing of the mouth, no weird demon rabbit noises. So she womaned up and kept walking toward Clyde’s driver side door. And promptly went down as the heel of her four inch Jimmy Cho sank into the crumbling asphalt, causing her ankle to twist. She fell to the side, landing hard on her right hip, rocks embedding the palms of her hand and elbow as she used her arm to keep from hitting the ground with her head. Her ankle throbbed and when she ran her hand down pain intensified to something sharp enough to bring tears to her eyes.
“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”
Katie looked up, hands still massaging her ankle, ready to lay into the interloper with some high-octane snark. And her retort died in her throat as she took in the tawny haired hard body standing in front of her, right where Bunnicula had been just seconds before.
He reached a hand down, she assumed to help her up. She looked at that hand, that perfect, strong, tanned hand attached to a perfect, strong and tanned forearm. And okay, the arm was attached to the most perfect body she had laid eyes on in some time, the white t-shirt and worn jeans hiding nothing of the musculature beneath. If he was the serial killer patrolling this road from hell, at least she would go out looking at this panty soaker.
She put her hand in his, looked into his face as he easily helped her up. When she cringed at the throbbing in her ankle, he leaned down to support her with his shoulder and helped her to the open driver’s side door. Gently eased her down to the seat. Knelt down on the asphalt to tenderly slip her foot from her now trashed shoe.
The entire time she watched his face, those long dark lashes sweeping across the tops of his cheeks. The slight frown on those full, sensuous lips. The twitching of his nose.
Wait, twitching nose?
Katie leaned forward to look for that big ass jackrabbit. Nothing. Just a dozen or so rabbits poking their heads up from the field and Mr. Hardbody. Who apparently came out of nowhere because there was no vehicle anywhere along the road. Except for Clyde.
Her heart started pumping and Mr. Hardbody’s nose started twitching faster. Seriously. Twitching.
He looked up at her, dark brown eyes communicating concern. Or was it cunning. It was probably cunning. She narrowed her own eyes, reached behind her for the key ring she had left on the seat. The key ring with the small canister of pepper spray dangling amidst the keys.
“Your ankle doesn’t feel broken. Probably just sprained. Elevate it and ice it when you get home and if it’s still sore tomorrow you may want to go to urgent care to get it looked at.”
He let go of her ankle and remained in a crouch, keeping his head lower than hers. “I live back over there.” He gestured vaguely to the rabbit infested field behind him. “I heard your car stop and figured I would come see if something was wrong. Cell coverage is really spotty around here.”
She kept her eyes on his face as she continued to feel around for her pepper spray. His nose twitched some more, and she swore she saw his perfect ears twitched as well. Kind of like… Oh hell no. She must have hit her head on the way down. She was unconscious and this was a coma dream because no way in hell was the man kneeling in front of her some sort of were-rabbit. A were-wolf, sure. A were-panther, absolutely. Were-hares? No. Way.
As if he read her mind, or her body language, he set one of those perfect hands on her knee. Warm and large and oh so gentle. If only it would move up her thigh a little higher. Then his nose twitched again and the rabbits in the field turned at the same time and hopped away. As though he had spoken to them in some secret were-hare language and asked for some privacy. Please god let that be it and not because he was going to kill her. Rabbits weren’t carnivores, right?
“Do clothes always appear when you hare shift?”
She slapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes going wide. Maybe he would think she was drunk and let that slide by. But the amused crinkles at the corner of those deep dark eyes told her otherwise.
“Busted. And contrary to what the movies like to portray, shifters can summon clothing when we don’t want to walk around naked.”
Dammit! Her mouth had got to stop saying things she hadn’t cleared it to say.
He laughed, the sound a deep rumble. “I don’t know about you, but I usually like to get to know a person before I get naked in front of them. It’s just a thing I have.”
“I’m so sorry! I’m not normally this pervy.”
“I can live with pervy. Not that I’m trying to get rid of you, because I’m definitely not, but you looked like you were having car problems. My family owns a garage in town so if you need to I can get you a tow.”
“Just a flat rear passenger tire and the asshole who last rotated Clyde’s tires tightened the lug nuts with an air wrench. They are on so tight there’s no way I could get them off. And I couldn’t call for an assist because,” she waved a hand in the air, “no cell signal.”
“A flat I can take care of. You sit and I’ll get that tire changed for you. Spare’s in the trunk?”
She shook her head. “No, I hauled the jack, lug wrench, and spare out of the trunk already.”
He nodded, rolled back to his feet, and walked around to take care of the tire.
And in less time that it had taken her to haul everything out of Clyde’s trunk, he was done. While he returned the jack, wrench, and flat tire to the trunk, Katie looked over at the passenger seat and found her errant keys, but didn’t put them in the ignition, torn between thanking the were-hare (because apparently they were a thing) and head home to that bath for one, and spending a little more time here.
She sat there, keys in one hand, eyes looking up into his as he stood beside her. And decided she wasn’t as ready for this evening to end as she originally thought.
“I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Katie Lloyd.”
“Nice to meet you, Katie. I’m Brandon O’Hare.”
“O’Hare, isn’t that rather on the nose?”
“Only if you want to take that up with my mother. And I recommend you don’t. She wiped the floor with the last guy who took a shot at our last name.”
“Good to know.”
His eyes twinkled even as his nose twitched a little more, which made him look like a rabbit holding back laughter.
“So, now that we know each other a little better, I’m curious. Is there any truth to the saying ‘screwing like rabbits?'”
He threw his head back and laughed, a full bodied affair that had what she was sure was a six pack under that t-shirt rippling.
“I think I like you, Katie Lloyd. And while we were-hares are no slouches in the sex department, rabbits come by that dictum all on their own.”
Brandon looked up at the sky, then back at the field behind him. He reached into his back pocket, pulled out a business card, handed it to her.
“That’s the garage information, in case you run into car trouble in these parts again. I’m the only one who checks email.”
“So if I wanted to get in touch with you, all I need to do is email you?”
“Sure, or, do you have a pen?”
She leaned across the dashboard, opened the glove box, and pulled out a pen and handed him both the pen and his business card. “You can also call or text me on my cell. If you need…mechanical assistance.”
“And if I were to call, you would come and assist me?”
He handed the card and pen back to her, his eyes serious beneath the glint of laughter. “Absolutely. Anywhere. Anytime.”
She tapped her lips with the card, an excuse to inhale the subtle scent that was him. “And if I’m afraid good old Clyde here may not make it home?”
“Well, I suppose I could drive your car back to the garage then take you home in my car. So you get home safe.”
She thought for, oh, about half a second, and slid across the bench seat to the passenger side. “Then I guess you better drive, Brandon O’Hare.”
I know right?!?! I can’t believe it’s over either!!!! … Y’all, do you think we can convince N.R. Lines to write more for us?!!??!
As a reminder, this is the image that kicked off these were-spoof stories.
— Louise Acheson (@ach0) May 28, 2017
Anyway, what did you think? 😀