I pressed the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger. “First, I don’t even know if she’s staying more than one night.”
Liar. Underage or not, making Cheyenne leave before we sorted out her shit was a pipe dream.
I forged on. “Secondly, you were here first.”
“Only because?—”
“Thirdly, I have three bedrooms. And, out of an impulse to homemaking I thought was ridiculous and am now eternally grateful for, both spare bedrooms have, you know, beds.” I hadn’t ever anticipated hosting any of my family, but I’d wanted a home, not too much of an office space.
I had a small, tidy alcove set up off the kitchen with a desk where I kept my laptop, a filing cabinet, and my paperwork for my business. Keeping everything in that small space ensured I didn’t spread stuff everywhere. Having things organized, tidy, and in their place was important to me, as far as one could when dogs were the business model.
“So, I have room for both of you.”
“But—”
I pressed my finger to his lips. “We don’t have time this moment to talk about what happened tonight, before my sister arrived, but rest assured, we will find the time. I regret nothing, in case you were wondering. Right now, though, I need to sort out Cheyenne. Obviously, our parents have no idea where she is, or they’d be on my doorstep in a heartbeat. Well, that would mean leaving upstate New York. So…they’d send someone, one of my brothers, maybe. She’s only seventeen.”
Arthur regarded me. “She’s underage. Deputy Olson takes her job seriously. If she thinks you’re involved in something illegal without parental consent, even if you mean well, she’ll nail you.”
I didn’t doubt it. Her treatment of Frank the gun-toting chicken owner taught me to take her seriously. “I can’t just send Chey back, though. Not without learning why she’s here.”
“Harboring a runaway’s a crime in most states.”
“And she hasn’t finished high school.” I exhaled. “She turns eighteen in December, which makes me question why she couldn’t have just waited an extra two months.”
“You think it’s something serious.” Arthur regarded me.
“I think that as impetuous and impulsive as my sister is, she doesn’t fly off the handle often.” I considered. “Well, maybe that’s downplaying her…hardheadedness. She’s…a spitfire. She’s never agreed with my parents. Never followed their rules without being browbeaten and believe me, they tried. Never showed any desire to live like them.”
“Like how, exactly?” His brow knit.
Oh God, you have no idea. But I didn’t have a month to try to explain my family, my childhood, or the clusterfuck that had been my life before I’d come to Gaynor Beach. Fucking hell, I thought all that was behind me. Apparently not. Life had just delivered an effective blow to my balls.
Speaking of balls. Totally cockblocked. I’d fully intended to make Arthur beg some more, come morning. Instead, we’d have my sister as an inadvertent chaperone. I sighed. “Will you come out and meet her? She loves animals, so if you’d be so kind as to introduce your three—” I hesitated over Xandra. “—dogs, that would be amazing.”
Softly, he chuckled as he eyed his cat. “Yes, Princess Xandra likes people, but on her own schedule.”
Clearly, he’d seen my second thoughts about dragging the lovely creature into the kitchen and what? Thrusting her unceremoniously into Cheyenne’s arms as something warm to hug? Nope, that wouldn’t go over well.
He added, “Chili might not warm up to her.”
“That’s okay. Just…if there are going to be three adults in the house—” Wait. When did I start succumbing to the idea Cheyenne’s staying? Fuck my life. I went for humor. “—then the dogs will want to know who’s most easily manipulated.”
Arthur chuckled. “Given the way you describe your sister, that would be you.”
“Yep.” I beamed. “And proud of it.” I held his gaze. “You’ll stay?”
He pursed his lips. “I feel like…you need time with your sister.”
“Can I be honest? She’s a lot to handle. If you’re around, that might moderate her…enthusiasm."
"I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Well, you’ll soon find out.”
“Okay.” He didn’t appear convinced.
CHAPTER 9
