Page 103 of Open Secrets
“Don’t,” he warns as my face twists.
I grab the scrub brush I’d used on the tub earlier and swipe him clean. Thankfully, it’s just dust bunnies. This house seems to breed them in corners and vents, but I remind myself it sat empty for a year—of course it’s got ghosts of dust everywhere.
Once he’s scrubbed, washed, and vaguely human again, I herd him outside like a cranky teenager.
It takes forever to back out of the driveway. Our neighbours apparently own three cars and insist on parking all of them in front ofourhouse. Lyle convinced me not to go nuclear about it, but as we scrape the curb, I decide that’s over. This house is ours, and they’re going to learn it.
And what a house. The second we saw it, we knew it was ours, well I did. Lyle needed some convincing. Huge property with a fully enclosed backyard. Five bedrooms, master on the ground floor—perfect. No pool yet, but more than enough space to build one. It needed repairs, but with Lyle’s VA loan and his pension, we got it for a steal.
Now, a year later, it’s ours in every sense. Dust bunnies, cranky pipes, nosy neighbours and all.
As we drive, I casually run my hand through his hair. “You’re so good at the house stuff.”
He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “Hmm.”
“You know… do you ever miss going out?”
“I do go out. I’m going out now.”
“To do something other than errands,” I press.
He sighs. “Where are you going with this?”
I drop my hand into my lap. “Fine. I love you, Lyle, but you’ve become a grumpy-gus and I’ve had it.”
His mouth opens. “Well, forgive me—”
“I get that this transition to civilian life hasn’t been as easy as either of us thought,” I cut in, “but I think it’s time to get back out there.”
He frowns, confused. “Back out where?”
“Clay gave you that dean’s number. Why don’t you call him?”
Lyle puffs out a breath. “A pity job from my brother-in-law.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s not a pity job. They need someone with authority to wrangle those spoiled kids. And if you’re on payroll, we’ll probably get a faculty discount if one of ours ever wants to go there.”
That makes him scratch his head. “That’s right.”
I grin. “So, will you give him a call?”
He looks at me as we roll to a stoplight. “Have I really been that bad?”
I purse my lips. “Have I gotten my puppy yet?”
He groans and rolls his eyes. “I’ll call him—and you can get that damn puppy.”
My smile breaks wide. I lean over the console and kiss his cheek.
He chuckles. “Careful.”
Laughing, I settle back in my seat. “How does your dad feel about you walking Anna down the aisle?”
“Hurt,” Lyle admits, eyes still on the road. “Even if the old man doesn’t want to admit it.”
I wince. “What did he expect after the scene he made at the engagement dinner?”
Lyle winces too, a half-smile tugging at his mouth. “Yeah… but in his defence, a chocolate fountain is way too easy to topple over.”
