Page 71 of A Little Naughty

Monay stands, and from the top of the gazebo in a full platinum wig and platform heels, she’s a pretty intimidating height. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Jones. I’ve hearda lot.”

I can believe it.

Jemima puts her hand on my arm. “All good things.”

The boys run past us, but Nikki peels off, going straight to my dog.

“Who’s he?” She looks up at me, scratching his neck. “Is he yours?”

“Yeah, but you can play with him. He’s a little wild, but he’s friendly.”

As if on cue, he starts licking her face like it’s an ice cream cone.

“Oh, okay! Down, boy!” She falls back on her butt, and I take a knee, pulling him off of her.

“Slow down, Porkchop.” Then I notice her blue cheeks. “He probably tastes the slushie on your face.”

“Oh, yeah.” She blushes, pulling a long sleeve down and scrubbing her cheeks. Then she’s back in front of him, holding his neck. “His eyes are different colors!”

I lean on my forearm, still holding his collar. When I pat his head, he licks me in the face, and I catch his muzzle, gently moving it away. “It’s called heterochromia. He was either born that way or it happened because of trauma.”

“Trauma?” Nikki’s eyes flash, and she moves closer, pulling the dog into a hug and rubbing her hands down his back.

Porkchop stands, wagging his tail so hard his whole butt moves.

“He’s perfect.” Her voice is quiet, and she meets my eyes again. “Will you bring him with you when you come to live at our house?”

“Is that okay with you?”

She has the most serious brown eyes I’ve ever seen, and she hesitates as if she’s considering my question. “We don’t have a lot of room inside, but we have a fence around the yard. He could stay out there.”

I slide my palm over his black and white head. “Maybe you could train him. I haven’t had much time, but I think he’s still young enough to learn.”

She reaches out to pet him again, and he lowers his ears, tongue out and panting. “Maybe I could teach him to shake hands.”

“I don’t know if he’s smart enough for that, but you can try.”

The two boys have noticed us talking, and they run up to where we’re standing.

“That’s the dog who was in the race at the fair!” Owen shouts. “Your girlfriend gave him hot dogs to make him run.”

Jemima’s eyebrow arches. “Your girlfriend?”

I exhale a laugh. “She was just some girl I knew.”

“She cheated.” Owen frowns.

I slide my hands into my pockets. “They didn’t say we couldn’t use food, and Porkchop’s not very smart.”

“That girl wasn’t very smart. Every dog on the field ran after her except Edward.” He goes to where Britt’s bloodhound is sitting. “Edward’s the smartest dog in the world.”

Dropping my chin, I wonder how I can get out of this. “He’s pretty good. Who knew a bloodhound could run so fast?”

“That girl was lucky she could run fast. She almost lost her tube top.”

“So you two are getting married.” Britt interrupts, shifting her baby to her shoulder. “That doesn’t seem a bit sudden to you?”

I can’t tell if she’s trying to distract her son or if she’s really grilling me. My eyes go to Jemima’s, and she’s blinking fast. I’ve learned that means she’s nervous.

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