Page 81 of Wag More Bark Less

“So you haven’t charged it in two days.”

“Sorry to interrupt, but I have your coffee.” I pulled it free of the carrier, noting how much the cup had cooled. “I can heat this up in the kitchen if you want⁠—”

“God, I’d kill for a coffee,” Violet groaned.

“I can get it, thanks,” Maggie said, flashing me an appreciative smile. “I see you’ve met my sister?”

“Luke helped me find you, actually. Good thing too, because I was about to call in the FBI.”

“Okay, Mom.”

I should go. Let the sisters catch up. But Ellie’s leash was still wrapped around my wrist, and since she wasn’t whapping me to set her free, I used the excuse to stay put.

“Where are you staying?” Maggie asked Violet.

“Ethan’s looking at hotels in Granby since this cute-as-a-button town’s only hotel is fully booked. Worst case, we’ll just head south to Denver. It’s only a little more than an hour away last he checked, and just for a night. We have to keep moving after this. The crib isn’t even put together yet.”

“You can stay in the duplex,” I offered without forethought. “I mean, if Maggie doesn’t mind.”

“You’re really okay with that?” Maggie asked, her blue eyes sparkling. “You know there’s more than just my sister, right?”

“There’s plenty of space. The couch pulls out into a bed, too.”

“I knew I liked you, Luke,” Violet said. “But this might be a good time to mention my boys are little hellions who’ve been cooped up in a car for over a week now. So, if you rescind your offer, no hard feelings.”

Maggie glanced at me, and the soft, pleading look undid me. Though I would’ve said yes, even without it. I admired how important her family was to her. It was something I understood well. But more than that, I loved seeing her so happy. I loved even more that I could be a part of that happiness.

“Offer stands. Believe it or not, I was once a hellion myself.”

TWENTY-NINE

MAGGIE

“I thought you said we were getting massages,” I said to Violet once she checked us in at the local spa for what the receptionist very clearly called Brazilians. After two hours sitting on the patio at Pizza Patty’s catching up with some of my favorite humans, Violet split off from her husband and kids to treat me to the spa. But a sugaring treatment wasn’t the relaxing experience I had in mind when I was promised a deep-tissue massage.

“I’m eight months pregnant.” She waddled toward the corner with cushy mint-green chairs and sank into one. “How exactly did you think I was going to get a massage?”

“They have prenatal massages.” I pointed to the flyer displayed on a round table to prove my point.

“Well, massage was code word for mama needs to take a machete to the jungle before she’s spread eagle in the delivery room. And since I know you canceled your own appointment with the whole calling-off-the-wedding thing, I thought I’d treat you to one so we could bond.” She flashed me a cheeky grin. “You know, before baby number three destroys my vagina.”

“Interesting choice for said bonding activity,” I said, debating whether I would sit this one out. Then again, after what unexpectedly happened last night, maybe a little downstairs maintenance wasn’t the worst idea. I got the distinct impression that Luke wouldn’t care if I was hairless or not, but I much preferred things bare. Better to be prepared, just in case . . .

Just in case what, Maggie?

Friends weren’t supposed to make out like horny teenagers. Friends didn’t have naughty hardware store dreams about the other, either. But last night in bed, that seemed out of my control. At least this time, Ellie didn’t wake me up from the good part.

This morning, I briefly entertained an irrational temptation to invite myself over to Luke’s kitchen for breakfast wearing nothing but the Star Wars T-shirt he loaned me. Maybe we’d simply enjoy a friendly breakfast together, or maybe he’d discover I was sans panties when I crawled back into his lap. That naughty fantasy lured me back to deep, lustful sleep. When Ellie finally woke me, I discovered I slept right through my alarm and was running an hour late.

“If you don’t want a Brazilian, you can just come keep me company,” Violet offered. “Just know that even if I have to strong-arm you, I’m not going back there alone.”

“I don’t know which choose-my-own-adventure option would be more awkward—getting a Brazilian next to my sister or sitting in a corner watching her get one.”

“You’ve seen me naked hundreds of times. We used to take baths together.”

“You were six; I was eight.”

“That’s beside the point.”