Page 16 of Wreck Me

“1-800-paleontology,” he said as he searched for the nearest second-hand clothing shop. If Homo Ginniens hated suits, it was time to dress for the job he wanted.

7

Jauntily whistling “Under my Thumb,” Ginny wrapped her thumb around her trowel and stabbed it at the base of a particularly stubborn dandelion. She was just about to yank it out when she was hit with a yawn so massive she had no choice but to rock back on her haunches in the grass and let it pass.

The ear plugs Grant had gotten for her from the stunt guys at the movie studio had been surprisingly effective for dealing with the blasting speakers, but sleeping with them in had felt weird. She very much looked forward to a quiet, ear-plug free sleep, and was happy to see the sun beginning to lower in the sky. But first, she needed to get “weed the front beds” crossed off her to-do list.

She’d just renewed her grip on the trowel and aimed it toward the dandelion when a wave of dirt spattered the side of her face.

“Mick, stop that digging. A Shasta daisy is not a weed!” With a gentle but firm push, she moved the dog out of the flower bed, only to have Angie waddle in and plop down on top of the baby Hosta she just divided off from its parent plant, smashing it. “Angie!”

Getting up, she fished in her jeans pocket for three dog treats. She waved them in front of her new friends’ ever-sniffing noses as she led them toward the gate that opened into their yard.

“You’re very sweet,” she said as she closed them in, “but don’t ever start a landscaping business.”

She’d just knelt back down and taken up her trowel for the third time when a black Ford 150 pulled up to her house.Now what?Sighing with fatigue and frustration at the latest interruption, she set the trowel down and stood, dusting her shins and hands in the process. She walked toward the street, remembering with fond annoyance how quiet and peaceful her home was before Nico showed up, threatening to ruin her life.

As she neared the truck, the driver’s side door began to open. From the depths of the cab came a deep male voice she recognized only too well. “Good evening.”

She intended not to give him so much as a glance, but she couldn’t help a quick once-over as he got out of the vehicle. He looked like a completely different person in acid-washed jeans, a slate-grey, long-sleeved cotton tee, and some type of faded work boots. The tee struggled just the right amount to cover his chest and upper arms, and the jeans were loose everywhere but his narrow hips—just the way she liked them.

Still, she reminded herself without much difficulty, he was the exact same disagreeable person in casual clothes as he was strutting about in a fitted Armani. She gave a dismissive wave as she headed back toward the house. “Bye.”

“I'm here to apologize and do you a favor,” he said in a rush.

Her stride didn't change. “Riiiiight.”

He called after her. “I shouldn’t have done all that with the dogs and the music. I was acting like a bully.”

This admission was sufficient to get Ginny to stop and look at him, if only to let him know he hadn’t quite hit the mark. “Youarea bully.”

“I'm not, really, not under ordinary circumstances. But I let my emotions get the better of me this time, and I'm sorry.”

“Whatever. Fine. Feel better about yourself. Bye.”

He rushed on as she resumed her steps. “I wanted to let you know that I won’t be getting the electrical wires fixed, and also, I’m taking the dogs off your hands.”

Ginny sucked back into her lungs the breath she’d just released. Imagining Mick, Jack, and Angie disappearing forever made her already tired head go even fuzzier with anxiety. Sure, she’d only had them a few days, but the four of them had bonded. They were part of her life now. She turned back around. “Take the dogs?”

Yep,” he said, sounding as if he expected praise for accomplishing some admirable feat. “I’ve been on the phone all morning, and you’ll be happy to know I found three great rescues. They’ll be split up, but they’ll be well taken care of the rest of their days.”

She looked over at the dogs, all three of whom had squished themselves against the section of fence nearest her. They jostled and snorted at each other as their tails wagged in hope-filled unison that she would soon pay them some attention.Split up?“ButI’mtaking care of them.”

“By city code, they can’t stay on an empty lot. There needs to be a house and a proper owner.”

“But that’s what I'm saying—I have a house and I’ll be their owner.” She wished she hadn’t just put the dogs inside the fence. She’d rather he’d found them the way they usually were now—right beside her. By day, they mostly stayed outside, but at night they retreated to their self-appointed places on the living room rug and snored like mountain trolls.

“It’s a matter of opinion as to whether you even have a h?—”

“Whatever,” she said, cutting him off before he could say the word ‘house.’ Getting into another useless fight about theproperty wasn’t going to help her hold onto her three new friends. “I’m saying, I’ll be their owner.”

“Well…”

She cocked her head at him, eyebrows raised and mouth taut. “This is your chance to prove you’re not a bully.”

“How about we make a trade?”

Ginny rolled her eyes, sensing his game. “Donotsay for the house.”

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