Gin Fling (Bootleg Springs, #5)(50)

The pup’s little belly rose and fell.

“You’re the damn puppy whisperer,” he said.

I yawned. “What were we thinking, rescuing a dog?” I sighed.

“It’s just temporary,” he said, returning my yawn. “We’ll find the cute little bastard a nice family he can deprive of sleep.”

I couldn’t look at him directly. Jonah’s hair was sleep-tousled. The shadow of stubble on his jaw took his sexy factor up another ten points. And those sleepy green eyes did something strange to my chest region. Sleepy, stubbly man and sweet puppy were making me feel… things. Confusing things. Twin pulls of physical attraction and now affection warred for my attention.

“I’m going to try to sneak out,” I decided. It was pure torture sitting on a bed with Jonah. Shifting on the mattress, I tried to ease away, but Billy Ray rolled to his feet with a disgruntled yip. I moved to the edge of the bed, intent on getting away from sexy, sleepy Jonah.

But the pup followed me and pawed pathetically at my leg. He cocked his head to the side and gave me the look.

“What’s happening?” I whispered.

“You’re falling in love with him,” Jonah yawned. “And he’s using it against you.”

“I don’t think he wants me to leave.” I was so tired. So very, very tired. And Jonah’s bed was so inviting. So very, very inviting.

“Just lie down for a few minutes. Maybe he’ll settle if he’s between us?”

Superb idea. I’ll just lie down in Jonah’s bed and continue not having sex with him.





*



I woke to the loud blaring of an alarm that wasn’t my own followed almost instantaneously by the howl of a puppy in desperate need of the bathroom.

“Shit. Don’t pee, dude.”

My eyelids sprang open, and I launched woodenly into a seated position.

I was in Jonah’s bed. I’d slept with Jonah. Also a dog.

The man was scrambling out of bed, and the warmth that was evaporating from my back? The only hypothesis that made sense was that Jonah had been spooning me. I felt my back, hoping for some kind of six-pack ab fossil.

Jonah, in a hurry and very focused on not letting Billy Ray pee in his bed, grabbed the puppy and dashed downstairs.

I flopped back on the pillow, noting that Jonah’s pillow was pushed up next to mine. I’d slept the sleep of the exhausted and missed out on waking up cuddled against my roommate’s hard body. My roommate that I wasn’t having a physical relationship with.

It was a lot of disappointments for 6 o’clock in the morning, I mused.

“Damn it, Billy Ray. You were two feet from the door,” Jonah grumbled from downstairs.

Well, since I was awake, I might as well get up and tackle that swim, that run. Get them out of the way.

When I got downstairs, Jonah had a shirt on in the backyard and there was a clump of paper towels soaking up the puppy pee on the kitchen linoleum. Like I said. A lot of disappointments.

Judge Henry Kendall, of missing daughter fame, eyed for federal judge appointment.





Bootleg’s own Judge Kendall considered for higher calling.





Father of teenager missing for thirteen years considered for federal judgeship.





27





Shelby





The cabin Scarlett arranged for my parents to rent was halfway up the mountain. It had a front porch with a spectacular view of the lake and town. The green siding made the building seem as though it was part of the forest that surrounded it. It was cute enough that I temporarily forgot to obsess over the fact that I’d woken up in Jonah’s bed… without having had sex with the man.

I sipped my coffee on the blue plaid couch and listened to my parents as they alternated naturally between their two favorite forms of communication: good-natured bickering and finishing each other’s sentences.

In my professional opinion, James and Darlene Thompson were suitably matched.

As their daughter, I thought they were just about perfect. My stint as a social worker had given me an intense sense of gratitude for growing up in the family that I did. My parents were steady, loving, and interested in their kids.

“Begone, woman,” my dad said, playfully pushing Mom out of the galley kitchen.

“You’re cutting the sandwiches wrong,” she insisted.

“And they’ll taste exactly the same,” he shot back, wielding a container of mustard in her direction.

Laughing, Mom joined me on the couch. Her hair was pulled back in a short tail today, and she was wearing comfortable hiking shorts and a t-shirt. Vacation Casual Darlene also had a tube of Rosy Mauve lipstick in her cargo pocket.

After thirty-five years of marriage, Mom still wore lipstick every day, and Dad still got her flowers on the seventeenth of every month in homage to their first date.

Of course, they weren’t perfect. Mom hoarded greeting cards. GT liked to joke that she made new friends just to have more birthdays and surgeries to celebrate. And Dad. Well, Dad considered himself a handy man when, in reality, they would be better off calling in a professional. The coat closet light still turned on every time someone used the toaster in their kitchen after Dad’s DIY wiring job.

“So, before GT and June get here, tell me about this gorgeous roommate of yours,” Mom said, tucking her feet up under her on the cushion next to me.