Page 275 of Branded
A good mom.
Easy enough to see.
Especially when Ethan slowed down his movements, crouching to Sparky’s height and holding out a fist so that Spark could smell.
Once he’d passed Spark’s inspection, Ethan began scratching him under the chin.
Which led to Sparky kissing him under his chin.
Boyish laughter in the air. Ethan’s smile wide. Sparky’s tail going crazy.
“Why’s his face white?” Ethan asked, having moved on to scratching Spark’s head and ears (and making the pup practically drool in pleasure).
“He’s old,” I said, bending down and stroking a hand along Sparky’s back, the soft hair parting and flowing through my fingers. “Almost sixteen in human years, which is like ninety in big dog years.”
Ethan glanced up at me, eyes wide pools of dark chocolate. “Really?”
“Really,” I said solemnly.
“Whoa.” Then he was giggling again because Sparky got tired of standing and just plopped down in Ethan’s lap, taking them both to the ground.
“Oh, shoot, sorry,” I told him, steadying him so he didn’t tip backward. “Spark gets tired sometimes.”
Brows furrowing, but not seemingly in any discomfort because of the takedown, Ethan hugged Spark and endured more licking before resuming his scratches again. “His name is Spark?” he asked, and it was clear that he didn’t approve.
“Sparky,” I said. “But don’t look at me. I let my sister name him.”
“You have a sister?” Ethan asked.
I nodded. “Two.”
Ethan scowled. “My mom won’t let me have one of those.”
The scowl. The statement. Fuck, this kid was going to make me laugh.
“It’s not as simple as going to the store and just picking up a sister,” Jules said dryly. “As I just told you.”
Ethan’s scowl didn’t ease. “Chase has a sister.”
Now I did chuckle—they were both funny—and earned a scowl from Julie.
“It’s not funny, Cas,” she muttered, closing the distance between us and bending to scratch Sparky. That bend was…chef’s kiss. A glimpse of curves, a brush of her body against mine a hint of flowers in my nose.
“Who’s Cas?” Ethan asked.
“That’s Cas,” Julie said, pointing. “I know him from CeCe’s. He comes in and eats with his hockey player friends sometimes.”
Wide eyes and enough awe in his voice that my ego pulsed with joy. “You play for the Breakers?”
Biting back a grin, I nodded solemnly.
“Whoa,” Ethan said again.
My lips turned up. “You like hockey?”
“It’s the best,” Ethan breathed. “Mom sometimes lets me stay up late to watch you guys play.”
“Does Mom watch too?”
