I frowned down at the screen.
Brooklyn aimed the camera at where Sadie wagged her moth-eaten tail when Jett paused his backyard-world domination zoomies to sniff noses with her. At least she looked happier. But then as Brooklyn approached with his phone, her ears went down and she backed off a couple of steps.
I said, “Yeah, nervous baby.”
“I’m going to try some more treats. I want her owner to see her having fun so she can come back and romp with the herd.”
Chili suddenly barked down the hall, bolted into the kitchen, and charged toward me, her little feet scrabbling on the tiles. When she reached me, she bounced up and down and whined loudly.
“Is that Chili?” Brooklyn asked.
At the sound of Brooklyn’s voice, Chili began barking louder. I flinched. “Hush, baby.” That worked about as well as expected. “You need to see Brooklyn?” I tilted the phone. “Here, dude, tell this dog everything’s fine and you haven’t forgotten her.”
Brooklyn laughed and began crooning to my dog. The view on the screen switched to his front camera and there he was. I hadn’t forgotten what he looked like in twenty hours, but something about seeing him there in his familiar yard in the October sunshine hit me under the ribs. I wanted him.
Wanted his soft voice as he teased both Chili and Sadie, murmuring to the little white terrier that if she learned to be a drama queen like Chili, she could have all the treats and attention.
Wanted his silky, straight hair that flopped over his forehead, a texture my fingertips vividly remembered.
I wanted to kiss those dimples and that mouth, and to feel the scritch of his stubble on my skin. Wanted to give him beard-burn in all the right places.
Sitting there in Shane’s kitchen, I longed to be in that backyard with an intensity that took my breath away. My dick went hard and my hands shook. I was about to say something—don’t ask me what—when, off camera, Cheyenne called, “Hey, that lawyer guy is back at the door. Do you want me to let him in, or what?”
Her voice dumped a bucket of cold water on me. Of course, I wasn’t going to run over there and kiss Brooklyn. Of course, he had other important things to do. I hadn’t really forgotten, just set it out of my mind for a moment.
“I’ll let you go,” I said.
“Sorry.” He stood, taking the phone with him so I got a swooping look at the kennels behind him. “I have to see what he says. Chat later, maybe?”
“Sure,” I told him. I wouldn’t hold my breath, or expect too much, but if he did message, or call? “You know where to find me.” I tapped the red button.
CHAPTER 14
BROOKLYN
I stared at Wynn across my dining room table. For a moment, when he’d showed up at my door that morning, I’d been intimidated by the big, bald-headed lawyer who looked more like a biker than an intellectual. But his steady gaze and kind eyes had won me over. He’d gathered a lot of information and headed out to “see what he could put into motion.”
Now, seated across from him again, I didn’t like what he had to say. “What do you mean she can’t just tell the courts that she wants to stay with me and that she isn’t safe with our parents?” I hated referring to them as our since I’d long ago given up ownership of them. As they’d given up ownership of me—unless money was involved, of course.
“First, you’re supposed to have been residents of California for six months to petition California courts.” Wynn’s eyes shone with compassion. The man had a sturdiness about him that I respected—but that didn’t, in this moment, ease my nerves.
“Uh…” I wracked my brain. “We’re in October. I arrived early March…” My panicked brain couldn’t do math.
“That’s more than six months. But you’ll need proof.”
I leapt from the chair at the dining room table. “I have my short-term lease from the first place I rented…” I shouted that as I headed for my alcove. Thank Christ I kept everything organized, because thirty seconds later, I had the document in my hand and was heading back to the table.
“Do you think I should feed Sadie?” Cheyenne glanced toward the family room.
I can’t forget about the dog. I turned to Wynn. “Do you mind if I try calling her owner? She was due almost two hours ago.” I tried not to nag owners, but I was getting worried.
He waved me to do so. “You have a right to be concerned. I hope nothing’s happened to her.”
“Food?” My sister gazed imploringly at me.
“I’ll ask when I get hold of the owner. We have more tuna, right?”
“You bought a six-pack of tuna tins when we did the grocery order.”
