He glanced at me then, and his smile was bright. “We’ll head out after Arthur cleans up all the poop out in the yard.”
If Brooklyn was trying to give me second thoughts, he needed something better than that.
“On it,” I told him. “And looking forward to having you help me pick up, with my bad leg and all.” I winked.
“Yes. That will be good. We’ll get it done faster. I mean, after four, most likely, when the terrible twins are gone.” He breathed fast, eyeing my face.
“Holy cow, guys.” Cheyenne flounced past toward her bedroom. “Get a room.”
And while we meant to do so, soon, in all seriousness, for a moment we stood there laughing and hanging onto each other. Until hanging became kissing, breathing optional. Until it took Cheyenne muttering as she brushed past the other way, to make us, reluctantly, let go.
Four o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.
CHAPTER 16
BROOKLYN
Theo and Shane’s house was…big.
And yet understated. Well-loved, with landscaping that looked low-maintenance and desert-friendly, neat but not…formal, and a backyard fence meant more for dogs than for curb appeal.
Arthur unlocked the door, entered the security code, and hustled in—to be greeted like the long-lost conquering hunter. Returning to bring food to the starving masses.
Eb and Twain fawned over him, while Chili greeted me like a friend she hadn’t seen in, oh, two days, and Xandra regarded us from her perch.
Pretty much what I expected.
I clapped my hands. “How can I help?”
“If you could feed the gang and give Xandra her med, that would be amazing. I can head to my bedroom and start packing things. Third door on the left.” He waved down the hall.
As I oriented myself, looking for the kitchen, he hobbled away. A reminder he wasn’t fully healed. He’d said something about showers and bandages on the drive over, but I’d been too obsessed with getting inside his pants again to listen. Now we were here, though, I hesitated. What if he’s not healed enough? What if I’m too in my head about Cheyenne? What?—
Chili nudged my leg. I bent to smile at her. “Oh, you heard him say I was the food dispensing machine, huh?”
Three sets of ears perked.
I grinned. “Which way to the kitchen?”
Eb loped off with Twain hard on his heels.
Chili gazed up at me.
“Pets as soon as you’re done eating.” Nothing better than petting a dog for stress relief, except I hoped to be stroking a certain ginger hunk before too long. So yeah, actually, something even better.
We made our way to the kitchen and, quickly, three dogs had their food. Xandra appeared for her canned diet and I was happy to provide her with a small plate, her pill delivered in a teaspoon of tuna first. She purred loudly enough to put a smile on my face.
I eyed the patio door and counted hours backward from when Cheyenne had picked up Arthur. “Let’s run outside, shall we?”
Twain wiggled his butt as Eb licked his bowl to ensure no crumbs remained.
Grateful the yard was fenced, I let the dogs out.
Eb and Twain quickly found trees to water. Chili sniffed and, keeping close to me, squatted, then bounced off to sniff at some ornamental grass. The garden was peaceful, the dogs cute, and the air fresh, but a beat of arousal in me wanted to cut this idyll as short as possible. The thought of Arthur and a bed and his meaningful stare made it hard to stand there casually and call encouragement and smile at their antics. The shortness of my breath had nothing to do with Eb tugging on Twain’s ear.
I was willing to keep them out longer but, as if they sensed my urgency, they all returned, and we headed inside. I eyed them. “You’ve got to give me privacy—I don’t have much time.”
After a moment, Eb and Twain headed for their beds in the family room and an array of chew toys.
