Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Gram elected to stay home from the party, too. She’s not a fan of football and she and her boyfriend, Slasher, wanted to spend their Sunday re-watching Spinal Tap. Slasher was a drummer in a metal band for thirty years, and Gram loves a mockumentary. She also still loves getting it on with Slasher, a thing I try not to think too much about. When I found their stash of Viagra while packing up my things, I simply put it back on the medicine cabinet shelf and backed away.
I wish my grandmother a spicy last act of her beautiful life, but I want to know as little about it as possible.
“Damn, that’s crazy cute,” Matty murmurs, gaze fixed on the screen, where the cameraman is weaving in and out of a pack of puppies in matching football jerseys. Some are wrestling with dog toys, some chase each other in circles, and a few are as dead to the world as the kittens, but they’re all the most adorable beasties ever.
I emit a girly squealing noise that is any red-blooded woman’s response to that much cuteness on a screen at one time and squeeze Matty’s arm. “Oh my God, they’re precious. Let’s adopt them all.”
He chuckles. “I think we have our hands full with Curtain Shredders One and Two right now, but I’d be up for a puppy in a year or so.”
I sigh and lean my head on his shoulder. “That sounds perfect. I’m so glad I’m not scared of animals anymore.”
“Me, too.” He kisses my forehead. “You’re a badass.”
“Thanks. You, too,” I say, kind of loving that no one knows what a badass Matty is but me.
His family, aside from Mel, still thinks he was just a stock car racer, handyman, and troublemaker before he settled down and started using his mad language skills for the betterment of the high school kids of Bad Dog.
They don’t know that he’s a hero or that he single-handedly shut down the Sweetwater crime organization or that the reason The Cupcake Factory is under new management is because Cassie Ann fled the country, and her grandsons are in prison awaiting trial on a laundry list of criminal charges. They don’t know that Matty is now retired CIA, has a nice pension for a thirty-year-old, or spent years keeping secrets in order to keep them safe.
But there are no secrets between us, a fact he proves when he whispers as soon as the puppy bowl ends, “I have a confession to make. I found that thing you were hiding in the pantry.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ask, trying to play it cool, even as my heart speeds. I know what he’s found, but for once I’m not sure what he’s going to say.
Most days, I feel like I’ve known Matty forever, like he’s always been a piece of me, even before we fell in love. But despite his wild, adventurous past, Matty’s a cautious person in many ways. He looks before he leaps, and this might be way too big a leap after only living together for a couple months. I might have intruded upon turf that isn’t mine to intrude upon.
“Yeah,” he says, his gaze locked on mine. “And so I called the number on top, the furniture place.”
“Uh-huh.” I press my lips together and nod, fighting to remain calm. If he’s seen the final product before I’ve had a chance to put on the finishing touches, I’m going to be sick to my stomach. I worked so hard to keep this renovation a surprise for the past month, in advance of a Valentine’s Day unveiling, and now… “Just tell me,” I blurt out. “If you hate it, it’s fine, I can put it back the way it was. Or whatever way you want it, just don’t leave me in suspense.”
He shrugs a non-committal shoulder. “I haven’t seen it yet. But the furniture delivery company has. So has the paint guy and the plumber and the woman painting the mural. That’s roughly half of Bad Dog that now knows the location of my top-secret prepper hideaway. Which means, it’s no longer a hideaway. It’s a hunting camp. A ‘weird and kind of girly’ one, if the plumber is to be believed.”
My jaw drops with an outraged sound. “What? It is not! It’s gender neutral. If anything, it’s more manly than girly. I wasn’t trying to take over, I was trying to make your space a more welcoming, comfortable place to call home. I know you hate the apartment we’re in right now and I thought…”
His brows lift. “You’re seriously considering moving out to the woods with me?”
“Well, not for forever,” I say, with my own non-committal shrug. “But maybe for a year or two, until the sex haze wears off and I come to my senses. I know you love it out there, and I love you and so I stuck my nose into your business. Again. If it was the wrong thing to do, I’m sorry.”