Page 13 of My Inherited House Might be Haunted

“Honestly, I suck at names. My brother had to come up with Lucy’s name.”

“Lucy?”

“The cat. Full name: Lucy Fur.”

I cackled, hands coming to a standstill for a second. “Oh my god, I love that name.”

“Me too. She likes it, already answers to it, so I’m set there. I’m taking all name suggestions.”

“I’ll ponder.”

We rinsed, but it was obvious the dog could use a Round Two, so we dove right back in. Round Two would have to do, as there was no more shampoo left in the bottle. Dog definitely looked and smelled better, though.

Rhett worked his way to the dog’s head, then paused there, looking him over this way and that. “Does he look white to you?”

“Except a few grey patches, yeah. Who’d have thought there was a white dog under all that dirt?”

“Seriously. You’re handsome, did you know that?”

Dog’s whole body wagged. You couldn’t tell me dogs don’t speak English—this one certainly did.

But if he was white, then… “How about Myst? Short for Mystique. Since it’s a mystery where he came from.”

“Myst. Yeah, that has a good ring to it. How about it, boy? Myst a good name?”

Myst barked, which sounded incredibly loud in a tiled bathroom. That was my ear.

“I’m taking that as a yes.” Rhett grinned and continued scrubbing. “You’re such a good boy, Myst. You are being so good for us. We’ve almost got you cleaned.”

We really did. I fortunately had a detachable shower head, so we were able to rinse him off without too much trouble. Of course he escaped the shower the second he could and gave a mighty shake, sending water everywhere. Dogs, man.

“I don’t have a hairdryer,” I apologized, “so we’ll have to work with towels.”

“It’s fine, he’ll airdry. It’s a warm in my shop anyway.”

“Fortunately.”

I could feel time ticking away, but we still grabbed towels and dried him off as best we could. I grabbed a fresh shirt Rhett could wear, too, which he pulled on after drying himself off. Loved the look of that man in my clothes. I needed it to happen more often.

Then I fetched the collar, got it on Myst, and I could tell Rhett was relieved he could put a leash on the dog.

I was relieved my Brownie had disappeared under the blankets again by the time we made it out of the bathroom. That would have been so, so awkward to explain. Assuming my brain could come up with an explanation when it was fixated on trying to get Rhett on a date.

Rhett gathered up the bag full of dog goodies, leash in the other hand. He paused near the door, giving me his bone-melting smile. “Thank you so, so much. I’d have been lost without your help. I’m serious about coming back and cleaning the bathroom.”

“Rather than the bathroom”—I sidled up closer, easily within touching range, giving him my best bedroom eyes—“how about dinner tomorrow as thanks?”

I saw my offer hit home by the pleased little grin he wore, his breath hitching for a second. Score. I had him.

“Dinner sounds great. Text you later?”

“Sure.”

He still had that little grin on his face when he called, “Lucy, come on. We got to get back to the shop.”

Lucy hopped down from her window perch and sauntered toward her human, which was decidedly not cat behavior. I’d never seen a cat come when called. Me, she ignored, and rubbed up against her dog before proceeding toward the door.

“That’s apparently our cue. Think of where you want to go, okay?”

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