Page 8 of Indiscretion

Forty minutes later, we pulled up at the cabin. It was the first time either of us had seen it in the light. “This place is cute during the day.”

“It would be cuter if it was in Barbados and had a pool bar and room service.” He killed the engine, but left the keys in the ignition. “I just need to get my bag.”

“Oh. Yeah, of course.”

I walked in first, but Dawson immediately stepped in front of me. “Go back outside,” he said in a low, scary voice.

Peeking around his broad shoulders, I saw what had made Dawson protective. The inside of the house had clothes strewn all over the place, and we hadn’t left it that way. I looked to where Dawson’s full suitcase had been and found it now empty. Leonardo was sound asleep on the couch, on top of a pair of jeans he must’ve dragged up there.

“Did you happen to leave your suitcase open?” I asked.

“Maybe. I had to get clothes out.”

I stepped from behind Dawson and walked over to the couch, wagging my finger. “Leonardo, what did you do?”

My dog lowered his ears, a telltale sign he was guilty—even if the evidence hadn’t been all over the room.

“I’m sorry. Leonardo loves to unpack. Suitcases, boxes, purses—I can’t leave anything lying around or he’ll empty it when I’m gone. Last week, I took him to the park, and he did it to a woman’s purse while I was texting for a minute. She thought someone had robbed her. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking when we left.”

Dawson shook his head. “Great.”

“I really apologize. I’ll help you clean it up.”

“I got it.” He bent and started scooping clothes from the floor. “I think you’ve helped me enough already.”

I frowned. “You don’t have to be grumpy about it. Leonardo has separation anxiety. He was probably stressed when we left him in a place he’s not familiar with.”

“Yeah,the dogis stressed,” Dawson grumbled. He finished picking up all his clothes and stuffed them back into his suitcase. Sighing, he looked around. “I think that’s everything. I’ll let you know when I hear from the Airbnb woman.”

“Let me give you my number in case you need to reach me.”

Dawson dug his phone out and handed it to me. I handed it back after I’d punched in my number.

“I guess I’ll see you later, if I don’t hear back from her.”

“Later?” I asked.

“The rehearsal is tonight.”

“Oh. Sure. Of course.” I walked to the door and watched Dawson drag his suitcase to his car. “Thanks again for the ride to the hospital.”

“No problem. Thanks for the black eye.”

I smiled. “Don’t forget the saliva and dog hair on all your clothes. I heard you’re a germaphobe, so you must really love that. Oh, and you probably have TB now, too.”

He opened the car door and held onto the top. “And thank the little shit for helping me with my towel, so I could expose myself to a woman who’d just assaulted me.”

A visual of Dawson standing there, with his eight-pack and big dick dangling to his mid-thigh, even soft, popped into my mind. It stayed there as he pulled out of the driveway and drove down the dirt road. It had been one hell of a bad night, yet a small smile found its way to my lips. I sighed.I’ll definitely be thanking Leonardo.

Chapter 3

DAWSON

“Only you, Reed.” My buddy Ben’s shoulders shook as he laughed. “Though I am enjoying that you’ve hit the age where you get punched when you slink into bed with a woman. I remember the days when we’d come home in the middle of the night and there’d be a naked woman waiting in your bed in our dorm room.”

I shook my head. “Those days are over. The only time that’s happened in the last decade was when I got a psychotic client out of prison on appeal after a five-year stint, and she broke into my apartment to thank me.”

Ben chuckled. “I forgot about that. Emily was with you, right? She wasn’t happy about that either.”

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