Page 34 of Happily Never After

“Missed you too,” he muttered into her hair. “I changed the codes. Sorry.”

“I figured. What’s my new one?”

“Winston’s homecoming day. 0-4-1-0.”

“0-4-1-0,” she repeated into his impressively defined pecs. She pulled back. “You love him.”

He crossed his arms. “He’s grown on me. But do not mistake that as permission to bring a dog home every time you feel bad.”

She smiled. “Then you really shouldn’t go look in the car. There’s an entire family of chihuahua in the back seat, and they all have different skin allergies. Is the pool…”

“Dealt with. Everything’s fine.” One calloused thumb stroked her arm. Warmth crept into her cheeks. “How was your hotel stay?”

Something awakened in her downstairs department, but she didn’t have time for romance. Not while a thousand ideas were buzzing around in her head.

“Listen, I?—”

He smiled. “I know. Go get some work done. I’ll bring you a plate for lunch.”

Claire leaned in for another hug. “I love you.” The words still sent a tingle through her spine when she said them. She had opened herself to him, petal by petal, over the last year. Despite her best efforts at maintaining a strict sex embargo after her ex-fiancé, Jason, had broken her heart, Luke had blown up her defensive walls with his dynamite smile and bossy attitude.

It was impossible not to love him, as grumpy and infuriating as he could be. He was like no one she had ever met. Ruthless in his pursuit of a story, a hurricane in the bedroom, stubbornly opinionated on everything regarding Claire’s career. And yet, he was an adorable, squishy marshmallow on the inside once she got to know him. He bought new dog beds by the dozen and insisted on changing her dressings every time she was stabbed, shot, or otherwise injured. He took her to Paris and made her an office.

He was everything she had ever wanted, and his intense gaze still brought heat to her cheeks. In spite of everything the universe had thrown at her, she was lucky.

“Love you too,” Luke said, pressing a kiss beneath her right ear. Her body exploded into static. Maybe she had time for a brief romantic detour.

At that moment, something furry banged into her shin. Claire shrieked and jumped into Luke’s arms. Was it a dog, or had she accidentally let in one of the monstrous, pot-bellied squirrels from the backyard?

She glanced down. Luckily, it was just Winston. His milky white eyes stared in her vague direction, and her stomach lurched. This was why she needed to get to work. Winston was one of a dozen. If she didn’t pull off this charity gala and grow her business, all the special needs dogs in West Haven would be doomed.

“Hello, sweet baby,” she cooed as she unwound her legs from Luke’s waist and dropped to her knees. His fur was soft beneath her fingers. He put both his front paws on her knee and licked the air near her face. Something black was strapped over his torso. Did they make sports bras for dogs now?

“Poor guy. Let’s get you strapped in.” Luke walked into the kitchen and pulled a boxy apparatus from the island. Had he been playing with tinker toys while she was making murder spreadsheets?

“Luke,” she said slowly.

“Hmm?” He bent down onto one knee and clipped the rig into Winston’s harness.

“What’s that?”

“It’s to keep him safe,” he said. There was a hint of defensiveness in his voice. “So he doesn’t bang into things.”

When Luke finished attaching it, a small halo surrounded Winston’s head. He trotted off into the kitchen and promptly banged his shield into the island. The halo gently repelled him.

Butterflies fluttered in her belly. “You’re amazing.” She pressed herself against him for another sensual kiss. His hand fisted in her hair, and her hand slid down his chest to the waistband of his sweatpants. Then Winston knocked over the umbrella stand.

“Go.” Luke righted the stand and put Claire’s polka dot umbrella back. “We’ll have dinner together at six. And I do mean six, not six fifteen,” he growled.

“Thank you.” She squeezed his arm and walked over to the kitchen sink. Ducking down, she rifled through the cleaning products. There was still dog vomit in the living room to deal with.

His hand closed over hers. “Leave it. I got it.”

“It’s my fault,” she said, grabbing a roll of paper towels.

“No, it’s not.” He snatched the paper towels from her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Go save some animals.”

She was clearly dismissed. Speaking of animals, where the hell had Rosie gone? A legendary scaredy-cat, she had clearly hidden after the alarm went off.

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