Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 78227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“Those are your words, not mine.”
The irony of my own words isn’t lost on me. For a hot minute, I actually looked at Brock as a potential sperm donor.
But no longer. I’m in love. So very much in love with him. I’ll get his sperm the old-fashioned way.
“Look,” I say. “I didn’t set out to fall in love with Brock Steel. It seriously just happened. As for Callie and Donny, you’ll have to ask them about their own story.” I rise from the uncomfortable chair that has my ass aching. “I’m done with this conversation. And I don’t care what Mom says, I’m going to see my father.”
CHAPTER FOUR
BROCK
Dad and I reach Doc Sheraton’s property before noon. Dad parks the truck pretty far down his driveway so as not to alert anyone here.
“Now or never,” Dad says, opening his driver side door.
I say nothing. Simply open the door and place my feet on the solid ground.
A small ranch house is visible in the distance, and two cars are parked near the garage. Good. That means Doc Sheraton is most likely here.
Dad and I walk, our boots making prints in the gravel, toward the house.
Until—
A fierce Doberman pinscher jumps in front of us, stands and growls, baring his large and sharp canine teeth.
Dad jerks backward.
“Easy, Dad,” I say. “These dogs feed on fear.”
“What the hell do you know about any of it?”
“There’s a reason why certain breeds are trained as guard dogs. They’re the more fearful breeds. It’s because of fear that they attack.”
“You always did have a way with animals,” Dad says.
“I do love them, especially dogs.” I keep my voice low and calm. Sudden sounds will only add to the dog’s fear.
“No one needs an alarm system with this damn thing here,” Dad says.
“Hey, fella.” I keep my voice composed and soothing. “No one’s going to hurt you.”
“Brock—”
“Quiet,” I say to Dad. “Let me handle this.”
I step a few inches toward the dog.
The growling intensifies.
From the corner of my eye, I see Dad begin to open his mouth again. I shake my head at him slightly.
“Don’t move, Dad.”
“That dog is looking at me like I’m a fucking pork chop,” he says.
“I told you to be quiet.”
I step another couple inches toward the dog.
Again, his growling intensifies.
“It’s okay,” I say again.
“Brock?”
“Dad, I told you. Be quiet,” I say, this time in a hissing whisper.
“Brock…”
Damn it! What does my father not understand about shut the fuck up? I turn my head slowly to look toward him, and—
Oh, shit.
Another dog.
This one stops on Dad’s other side, stands and growls.
“Why aren’t they attacking?” Dad says, without moving his lips.
I force myself not to be too rigid in my stance. Tension will alarm the dogs. “Because they’re guard dogs, not attack dogs. Now be quiet.”
I’m at a loss, though. I can’t keep edging toward the first dog and ignore the second dog. I have to somehow keep my eyes on both of them.
The second dog growls, and his is louder and fiercer than the first’s.
“Jesus Christ,” I say under my breath.
I mentally tell my dad to be quiet. We’re both big men, but these dogs… Are they trying to guard, or are they trying to attack? I told Dad they were guard dogs, but in truth I have no clue.
I’m probably right. If they were going to attack us, they would’ve done it by now.
These two dogs are Doc’s alarm system.
And it’s a damned good alarm system.
Better than Monarch Security for sure.
How do we get past them? How do we get to the house?
“Let’s go back to the car,” I say to Dad.
“Seriously? You want to go without finding anything out?”
“Keep your voice low, Dad. Do you have a better idea?”
“Well…not really.”
“Do not turn your back on these dogs. We’re going to walk backward toward the truck. Inch by inch.”
“All right.”
“Follow my lead.” I move backward a few steps.
More growling.
They growl every time we move. Of course they do because movement is a threat. But they don’t come any closer to us.
Interesting.
I glance around, and then I see why. They can’t move. There’s an electric fence around the perimeter of the house. If the dogs go past the barrier, they get a shock.
My God. Doc is a veterinarian. How can he shock an animal?
“We’re good now, Dad,” I say. “They can’t come near us. There’s an electric fence.”
“How can you tell?”
“There’s a beacon on their collars, and the wires are underground. If you look closely, you can see where the ground has been disturbed.”
“That’s inhumane,” Dad says.
“I agree.”
“We let our livestock graze. We’ve never even thought about keeping them fenced in with anything that could harm them.”
“I know, Dad.”
“Bryce and I made the right choice all those years ago,” Dad says. “I’m glad we didn’t hire Sheraton as our full-time vet.”
“I agree.” We reach the car, and I place my hand on the door handle. “What the hell do we do now?”