“I’m not leaving you tonight, Sunny.”
“No. Please. It’s fine. You’ve done enough.”
“I said, I’m not leaving you tonight.”
“Jagger… we can’t…” she whispered and looked down.
I lifted her chin. “I am not leaving you, Sunny.”
She stared at me, pain, fear, desire, confusion, all wrapped up in shimmering green eyes that told me she’d had enough for the evening.
“But the furniture is shredded, the couches, the bed… everything…”
“I’ve got a place we can go.”
“You do?”
“Yes. We’re not staying here.”
She looked at the house, then back at me. “What about the dogs?”
“I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of them, too.”
“You hate dogs.”
“Now where would you get an idea like that?”
“Call it woman’s instinct.”
“Does that instinct tell you that I’m going to take care of you tonight? Of everything?”
“… Yes.”
“Good.”
“Jagg, I?—”
“I’ll take care of it. That’s it.”
She bit her lip, looked back at her house, then finally nodded. “Okay. Let me pack a bag.”
“You have three minutes.”
35
JAGG
Sunny, four dogs, and I were crammed into my Jeep.Four.
Gritting my teeth, I adjusted—for the tenth time—in the driver’s seat, trying to put some space between me and the cold, wet, snotty nose blasting stinking, hot breath against my neck. My shirt collar was already damp with drool. Dog hair spun around the interior of the Jeep, one landing on my lip every few seconds.
Damn Max. The dog’s head was practically resting on my shoulder. In the backseat next to him sat Athena and Tango, quivering with excitement to be riding in a vehicle with no top.
To my right, Sunny, with ninety-pounds of Brute on her lap.
We were a freaking motley crew of beasts driving down a narrow dirt road in the middle of the night. Every bump in the road was followed by squeaking leather, and what I was certain was going to be puncture marks from their nails in my leather seats.
I started to itch. Literally—itch.
