That’ll be the hardest part.
Other than, you know, deciding what to do with my brother’s house.
“You want a treat?” I ask her.
She replies by snorting dog snot all over my face.
I straighten and wipe my cheek, grateful she didn’t hit my mouth too.
Jessica stalks out from under the porch, head high. She kicks dirt in my direction, turns and starts to sashay toward the steps, but suddenly stops.
I’ve had the dog for two months, and already, I know when the wheels are turning in her head.
They’re turning now.
She looks back at me, then at Ziggy.
“You want a new friend?” I ask the dog.
She turns her back on me again, and I swear the little beast farts at me.
But she’s turning on the charm for Ziggy. You can tell by the way Ziggy’s face melts into a smile as she sinks to her knees in the grass seemingly without a care for grass stains on her skirt.
“Oh my god, you’re adorable. What kind of a doggie are you?”
Jessica trots—trots—to Ziggy, flops on her back, and pants as she silently begs for belly pets.
She’s an asshole.
That’s what kind of dog she is.
“French bulldog,” I supply. “She can be a handful.”
Jessica snorts at me, which makes Ziggy laugh.
“Usually just for me,” I mutter.
“Look at you!” Ziggy says to her. “You’re the cutest thing. Yes, you are.”
“You like dogs?”
“My parents have always had dogs. I made a few friends in various ports that had pets so I could get my fix while I was working for the cruise line. And sometimes I’d get to pet the dogs that guests would bring on.”
“She might get mad when I leave. Jessica is the hardest part of house-sitting.”
The hell-beast snorts at me again, which makes Ziggy laugh.
“My sister is a dog whisperer. If I have trouble, she’ll help.”
“You couldn’t live with her?”Fuck. Now I sound like I don’t want her here.
Problem is really that I want her here too much.
Boundaries, asshole.
I’m not hitting on a pregnant woman today.
Or ever.
