Page 8 of Imagine Me and You

“My purebred—” she bent and smooched Poppy on the lips “—stays home. I run a bakery. Unsanitary.”

“You just made pancakes withitright there.”

“She’snot unsanitary to me. She’s unsanitary per regulations laid out by the state of Oregon. I think she’s a peach. But then, I don’t really want hair wafting onto the cupcakes either.”

“What am I supposed to do with her?”

“I’ll take her out now and she can stay inside until I close up shop. That’s what I normally do.”

“You want her to stay in the house?”

“She can’t stay in the van. It’s cold. Sometimes I leave her outside, but not all day in the snow.”

“She’s a Newfoundland, Sam. Aren’t they...waterproof like ducks?”

“Poppy is an inside doggy,” she said.

“You’re overindulging.”

“Ah, Jace, you overindulge in bleach and I love you anyway.”

“Bleach, unlike your dog, leaves things cleaner than before it blew through the kitchen.”

“I was the one splattering pancake batter, not Poppy.”

“Then maybe I should keep her and throw her owner in a snowbank.”

“You wouldn’t. I’m too cute.”

Jace felt all the electricity that had flowed through his veins when she’d hit him in the chest with pancake batter now run toward his heart and encircle it, giving it a hard jolt. Dammit, she was too cute.

She was too cute to send to a mouse-infested storage unit. Too cute to throw into a snowbank. Too cute to have underfoot twenty-four hours a day because she was also just about too cute not to pull into his arms and kiss until neither of them could breathe.

Which meant it was time to go out and throw himself in a snowbank and then get his ass to work.

“Do whatever you want with Poppy. I have calves to de-ball.”

She arched her brows. “As you do.”

He gave her a halfhearted wave and walked toward the front door. He grabbed his gloves from their place on the shelf that was just to the right of the door and the keys that were hanging on the hook below.

A place for everything, everything in its place. A simple fantasy he’d had in his childhood, one that had been unattainable.

Now he had it. And it really did make everything run smoother. He could get everything he needed for the day together in a matter of minutes. Muscle memory. Everything was right in reach, just where it was supposed to be.

No waste. No valuable moments spent searching for a tool that wasn’t where it belonged. He didn’t really care if Samthought he was crazy. He was efficient. Crazy and efficient, but what the hell? He had control. He was the master of his domain.

He paused for a moment and put his hand on his hips, letting out a long breath that lingered in the air like fog before dispersing. He looked at the fields, covered in snow, to the mountains beyond them. The barns. The equipment sheds. It was all his, and it was all how he liked it.

Yeah, life was pretty damn good. And in a few weeks, Sam would be on the path to homeownership and out of his house. And things could get back to the way they were supposed to be.

With mild lust flare-ups that happened every now and then. But nothing like this seam-busting, perma-erection he was dealing with now.

He shook his head and kept walking. Spending the day removing the testicles from animals should serve as a decent libido crusher.

He’d never looked forward to the job so much.

“Holy shit.”

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