Page 23 of Shootout Daddies
I chime in. “Puppy’s had his bath. Nails trimmed. Ate a full bowl. If he was a human child, we’d be due for a nap and a bedtime story.”
“I can put him down,” she offers, standing again. “He trusts me.”
She lifts him like he’s fragile. Carries him to the corner near the kitchen where they laid his bed, and gently settles him in, stroking his head until he curls up again and lets out a soft whine.
Then she walks into the kitchen and washes her hands like she’s done it here a hundred times.
“You want help?” she asks Rhett, reaching for a cutting board.
“I’m good,” he replies without looking up.
I step in behind her, hands finding her waist. I pull her back into my chest and bend my head to press a kiss to the side of her neck.
She hums. “Hi again.”
“Missed you.”
She turns slightly, her hand brushing mine. “If it’s okay with you guys… I brought some stuff. To stay the night.”
“Okay?”
“I wasn’t sure how house-trained Storm is yet. Figured I could help if he wakes up scared or needs to go out.”
Rhett pauses mid-chop. His face does this subtle flicker thing—like he wasn’t expecting her to say that and doesn’t know whether to smile or freeze.
I try not to laugh. I know it hadn’t occurred to him how much taking care of a dog actually entails.Oh, he’s about to find out!
“I hope he’s house trained,” Rhett grumbles.
Ivy grins and reaches for a glass from the shelf like she already knows where everything is. “It’s okay. I brought backup in case he isn’t. Stray dogs usually need a lot of care and attention before they’re used to a new home.”
It shouldn’t feel this natural having her in our space, but it does.
“You sure do know a lot about strays,” I say.
“I do,” she says, sipping her water. “The one I had growing up was needy as hell.”
“What kind?” I ask.
“Black lab mix. Her name was Gigi. She slept in my bed until I left for college. Cried at the door every time I went to school.”
Rhett smirks faintly. “Sounds probable.”
I tug her closer and press a kiss to her temple. “You’re really pretty, you know that?”
She blushes. “Stop.”
“I mean it.”
She leans her head against my shoulder. “How’s the car?”
“Good now,” I say. “Fixed the transmission. We should take it out for a spin later. After dinner.”
She lifts her face to mine, smiling. “I like that idea.”
I kiss her, slow and warm. Then I lift her just slightly, one hand sliding up her thigh and under her dress.
She gasps against my mouth.
