Page 111 of Always Be an Us

"Well, hello to you too."

"Have you been fucking with us lately?"

"You’re going to have to be more specific," he yawns. It’s nearly three p.m., and he sounds like he just woke up, but then again, I’ve never pegged him as an early-rising hard worker. "I fuck a lot of people, but I'm not sure who 'us' is."

Of course, he would read that in the wrong context.

"Someone broke into my office and destroyed my wheel loader. Was that you?"

"No. Why would I do that?"

"Did you not tell me about a plan to delay construction?"

"Yeah, andyoutold me to fuck off, so I have. If I was going to do it anyway, I would do a lot worse than simply destroy your wheel loader, trust me."

As much as I hate to admit it, he has a point. It was a very weak move, and someone like Micah would more likely use his connections to make things harder for me.

"Besides," he continues. "If I went forward with the plan anyway, you would simply tell my Dad what I'm up to, and then that old man would throw a tantrum right up my ass. No, thank you."

Another annoyingly good point. Shit. Micah isn't behind this. So who is?

"Wait, so you think someone else is sabotaging the project?" Micah sounds excited by the possibility.

"Looks like it. "

"Huh. Guess I was wrong. Maybe that town is more fun than I thought."

I hang up without saying anything else and head home.

Standing in front of my room door, I hear noises coming from inside. Delighted squeals mixed in with more mature chuckles and what sounds like a light bark.

I frown and open the door to meet the surprise of my life.

Cross and Monty are lounging on the couch, watching Amelia and Rachel who are both sitting cross-legged on the lush, cream carpet laughing about something in between them.

I get closer, noting thatsomething, a tiny ball of black fluff, is currently on his back with his tail wagging madly.

Amelia looks up first. "Daddy! Look what Emma got? Can we keep him?"

"Hell no," I say and Amelia’s face falls. Despite that, I shake my head again for good measure. I don’t like dogs. They’re messy and drooly and annoying. Already, I can point out the new dirt stains on my carpet. And his tongue still hangs out of his mouth, so God only knows where his saliva has been.

"But he’s so cute," Rachel says giggling when the mutt sniffs her elbow.

"If he's so cute, then you can take him with you. He's not staying here."

"Who's not staying here?" Emma comes out of the bathroom, wiping her hands on her jeans. The dog sits up and immediately bounds over to her. She picks him up and giggles when he licks her chin.

"Emma, that thing could have fleas," I warn. He looks scruffy enough.

"He does not," Emma says defensively. "And he's not a thing. He's Remy, my new dog."

"Your new dog?" I blink at her. "When the hell did you have time to get a new dog?"

"Today. Rick gave him to me. He needs a place to stay, and I have a home for him."

"Absolutely not."

"I wasn’t aware I had to ask your permission."

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