“Um, okay.” I search my memory, thinking of something she would choose. “Spud.”
“Spud?”
“Like a potato, which deserves its own food group,” I recite.
“Oh, my.” She blinks up at me with watery eyes. “That’s perfect.”
I avert my own stare before exposing more weakness. “He needs a bath.”
“Did you hear that? Daddy is very thoughtful. We’re gonna get you all cleaned up.”
And that just about does me in. We’re talking about a dog, but damn. That parental role effortlessly bestowed upon me solidifies our bond. She’s taking ownership with me, practically agreeing to be a family unit.
I let my smirk finally appear. The occasion calls for it. Bianca Benson is mine, whether she realizes it yet or not.
Colton has a strange look on his face. Maybe he let one rip after the stress of assuming we were in trouble. I squint at him closely and purse my lips. That doesn’t seem quite right.
From my perspective, he very much had things handled. The way he whipped out that gun like a Wild West duel left me breathless. It’s a side of him I hadn’t seen.
My gaze roves over him now. His smirk isn’t ruthless or calculating. I’d almost say that he’s happy. Spud chooses that moment to bump my hand, as if I could forget our new addition. His unexpected—and much needed—visit provides a welcome distraction.
I’m not an expert, but he’s some sort of Shepherd mix. Many of the dogs I’ve rescued and adopted over the yearshave a similar pedigree. Unfortunately, they’re the type that are commonly surrendered or abandoned. Our local shelter is stuffed full of these big babies and it stabs at me whenever I volunteer for a shift.
A pinch twists my stomach as I comb his scraggly fur. “Do you think someone is looking for him?”
Colton watches my efforts to brush Spud with my fingers. “Doubt it.”
“But he’s so friendly.” I rub under his chin and he slumps against me. “Where’s your home, sweet boy?”
“With us.”
My heart stutters. I glance up at Colton to find his blue eyes already hot on mine. Gone is the smirk. The look he gives me now is a smoldering fire. I drop flat onto my butt, no longer able to hold myself in the crouched position.
Gosh, he’s sexy. Almost perfect in every other way too. If Colton hadn’t forced me into this situation, our situationship would probably look very different right now. But I can’t get past the fact he stole my choice.
“Um…” I sever our intimate connection and the temperature immediately drops twenty degrees. It still takes my brain several seconds to recover. “Are you… uh, a dog person?”
He shrugs, scratching Spud behind his floppy ear. “Sure.”
The noncommittal response reminds me that he has secrets, which leads me to reconsider the gun tucked into the back of his jeans. “Have you shot someone?”
“Once or twice.”
“Did you kill them?”
His piercing gaze resembles ice when he says, “Already told you I haven’t.”
“But you would.”
“For you.” The chill thaws when his voice softens, gaining a vulnerable edge. “Does it change the way you look at me?”
It should, along with his other darker habits. I’ve told myself as much on many occasions. But instead, my mind conjures images of him using weapons for something other than destruction. I freeze, which has nothing to do with the mid-morning autumn breeze. What is happening to me?
Colton rumbles and I almost moan from the gravelly noise. “You like me bad, baby girl.”
“I didn’t say that.”
That unrecognizable glint returns to his expression. “Didn’t have to.”
