Page 175 of Bride of Choice

His face scrunched and he squinted into the distance. “Like angry tebbimenk when not happy. Tiny voice gets LOUD.”

A sharp bark of laughter left me. “The dream was not as fulfilling as the reality?”

“No.” Doogie shook his head sharply, the face he made, like he found something unpalatable, just made me laugh harder.

“Don’t worry, bub. You’ll find that gal out there for you. A less tiny critter-like one, perhaps?”

Another shrug. “Maybe. Maybe Doogie meant be alone.”

“It’s an option,” I told him, making him roll his eyes at me.

We walked on a bit longer, stopping at the spot we were meant to part ways. “Mama made food… Jo hungry?”

“Why, Douglas, do you have a fever? Someone call for help! I think he’s ill!” I called out.

Doogie grumbled, swatting my hands away playfully, but grinned the whole time. “You go?”

“Sure, why not. I’ve got time to kill.”

“Mama food better,” Doogie leaned in to whisper.

“Just don’t tell Cottontail that. She’s a bit of a perfectionist,” I whispered back.

“No say she no fun,” Doogie mock huffed.

“Was it her frowny face during our pod wars that killed it for ya?” I joked.

Dead serious, he grimaced. “Mama say no do that but she never makes Doogie stop.”

“Oh. So what you’re really saying is you’re hopelessly in love with your mother. Okay. Got it.”

“Ugh! You sick!” Doogie made gagging noises, shooing me away as I cackled like a hyena.

“I’m sick? You’re the one harboring creepy leanings, dude.” I had no idea how I kept a straight face to say that but it didn’t last long.

“You sick! Blech! Ick! Sick-sick-sick!” he went on, keeping it up all the way to Dorothy’s.

By the time we got there, my stomach was so sore from laughing I couldn’t finish my food.

Spying movement out back as I slid the cookie balls Dorothy had made that Doogie kept joking looked like bug gut treats they made for livestock into my jacket pocket, I rushed out. Staring in astonishment, I hurried down the back steps, making a beeline for Baby.

“Hello, sweet girl!” I called out, grinning when my sweet little horn baby caught sight of me and let out a happy, get your ass right over here, low.

Grabbing one of the actual bug treat balls Doogie had just been making cookie jokes about, I offered one up to my sweet baby, cooing at her as she happily gobbled it all up.

Movement to my left had me glancing over, hoping to see Kooky. My smile slipped as Heckes and Mosoau, deep in conversation, waved at me and paused long enough to toss out a curt greeting in passing. More hunt planning. It was all many a furball would talk about. The big hunt was a long trip. It took a lot of supplies and planning.

Turning back to Baby, I grabbed the brush Dorothy kept on hand and pampered her until her coat shined.

“Baby missed her Jo.”

Whipping around at the sound of his voice, I nearly dropped the brush. “You’re here!” I kept telling myself to play it casual. Be cool. And then I squeaked like an eager teen drooling after their crush at the first sign of him.

“I missed you too. I mean her. I missed her too,” I babbled as my skin pinkened.

Kooky grinned, eyeing me, and moved in closer.

Running his hand along Baby, his fingers almost touching mine as they followed along after the brush, he leaned in and I’d swear he was sniffing my hair.

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