Page 60 of Not Just Gal Pals

I shifted on the bed carefully, trying to give my arms, which were starting to ache from being fixed in an unusual position for so long, some relief.

“Oh.” There was a pause. I was almost positive Mrs. Harding thought I was in the bathroom. “I see. Well, look, I just wanted to have a chat with her about pruning one of my trees that’s hanging over her side of the fence. I was hoping she’d be able to give me access to her yard to do it.”

An itch in my nose started up, bringing with it a strong urge to sneeze. Crap. The walls were thin in my cottage, and the bedroom was right next to the front door. If I sneezed, Mrs. Harding would definitely hear me. I held my breath, trying to fight the urge.

“I’m sure Blake would be fine with that. I’ll let her kn—”

“It’s just difficult to cut them from my side because the tree has so many branches, you see. You’re not really meant to prune in fall, but I couldn’t do it in spring because I had a sore shoulder, which I actually had to see Blake about. She was so wonderful, gave me some stretches and anti-inflammatories, and it healed right up. But the tree is now overgrown, and I don’t want to spend the next five months looking at that mess, so I’ve decided to take action.”

The need to sneeze was becoming unbearable. If only my hands were free, I could rub my nose, which might give me some relief.

“That makes sense. I’m sure Blake will be more than happy to give you access.” Jenny’s voice sounded polite, if a little strained.

I’d be more than happy to let Mrs. Harding do whatever she goddamn wanted in my yard if she’d just leave so I could sneeze and Jenny could get back to trying to free me. I tried twitching my nose, a la Samantha in Bewitched, hoping to dislodge whatever irritant had made its way up my nostrils. To my immense relief, it worked. The urge to sneeze subsided. Thank god. I relaxed back into the bed.

“Do you think Blake will be available soon? I was also hoping to talk to her about a couple of the fence pickets that are rotting and whether we should pay someone to replace them.” Mrs. Harding barely paused for a breath before continuing. “I know doctors are always saying to eat more fiber and drink more water to get things moving, but I think a few teaspoons of castor oil is the best remedy. That’s what my grandma always said, and it works wonders.” It took me a moment to realize what Mrs. Harding was talking about. Yep, she definitely thought I was indisposed in the bathroom. An overwhelming need to laugh rose up my chest. Do. Not. Laugh. I clenched my jaw together.

“Uh, thank you. I’ll pass on the information to her.”

“If she doesn’t have any castor oil, I can run back to my place and get it. It doesn’t usually work immediately, unfortunately, so it may not give her instant relief.”

“That’s very kind of you, but I think she already has some.”

Please, please let that be the end of the conversation.

“So, you and Blake are close now? That’s nice. I don’t remember you being friends…”

Mrs. Harding kept talking, but I stopped listening because Fred suddenly jumped on the bed and started rubbing his cheek affectionately on my underarm.

My exposed, very ticklish underarm.

“Fred, no!” I whispered, but as usual, he ignored me. Fred kept going, nuzzling into my underarm, triggering a strong urge to giggle. Keep it together, Blake. I took some more deep breaths, trying to focus on the sensation of the air entering and exiting my lungs and not on the excruciating tickles Fred was giving me. I squirmed, but it didn’t deter Fred. He continued to bunt against me, every so often stopping to glare at me. Fred clearly wanted to be petted and was wondering why I wasn’t cooperating.

“I’m sorry, little dude, but I can’t pet you,” I whispered to him before refocusing my energy on the deep-breathing exercises in an attempt to counteract the tickling.

Finally, I heard the door shut, and a few seconds later, Jenny appeared at the doorway.

“Shit, I’m sorry that took so long. She just kept talking.”

“It’s not your fault! But can you please get Fred off me? He’s tickling me!”

Jenny shooed Fred away and then spent the next twenty minutes wrestling with the handcuffs.

Just when I thought we would need to call the fire department, the latch clicked, and my hands were free.

“Yes!” Jenny exclaimed.

I sat up, and after I’d shaken my arms out, I wrapped Jenny in an embrace and pulled her into me. “Thank you so much.” I squeezed her tight before pulling away. “But I think next time we should invest in some better-quality bondage gear.”

Jenny grinned. “Next time, eh? Well, I’m glad to hear this experience didn’t put you off.”

She leaned in for a kiss but stopped just before she reached my lips.

“Shit! We forgot about the chicken!”

I took my phone off the dresser and touched the screen to check the time. My stomach dropped. The chicken had been in the oven for well over two hours.

We raced down the hall to the kitchen and opened the oven door. A rush of smoke escaped, sending the fire alarm beeping. All the vegetables were blackened to crisps, and the top of the chicken was also black.