Barrel makes a sound that is a bark and whine combination.
“Is that him agreeing or stressing out?” I ask.
“I have no idea,” she says cheerfully.
“Let me get you both some more water.” I leave Winnie to settle in, pulling the door closed behind me.
Kicking my shoes off in the room I use as my home office, I drop my spare clothes. Glancing around the house as I go down the stairs, I try to see it through Winnie’s eyes.
She’s right. It’s tidy. It’s a house. Not a home.
I’d love to change that.
I’m ready to move out of the white-knuckle launch phase of the distillery and enjoy my life.
It would be fucking awesome if that included a dog.
And maybe a girlfriend.
In the kitchen, which has exposed brick and a pot belly stove that is purely decorative and no longer works, I grab a bowl for Barrel and two bottles of water.
When I knock on the door Winnie calls out, “Come in.”
Easing the door open I’m taken aback by the intense longing that washes over me. Winnie and Barrel are tucked into my bed together, looking sleepy and relaxed.
Sucking in a breath at the unexpected punch in the gut I experience, I’m annoyed by my own reaction.
It’s been a long time since there was a woman in my bed.
Too long.
And Winnie looks damn good in it.
Barrel yawns and put his snout on Winnie’s thigh.
I set one water bottle on the nightstand and use the other one to pour water into the bowl and set it under the window out of the way. Barrel immediately leaps off of the bed and heads right over to slurp water out of it.
“Thank you,” Winnie says. “I know Barrel is a lot of personality. My ex didn’t like him.”
An ex. I wonder how long ago the break up was. And who did the breaking up.
I keep my voice neutral though. “Yeah? Then your ex is crazy. Barrel is a cool dog.”
“My ex was a lot like you, actually. So serious.”
With that, she yawns.
What the fuck? That’s how she’s labeled me already?
Clearly, that’s that.
I should be happy. She’s not my type any more than I’m hers.
But at the same time, I want to prove her wrong. I want to lean in and kiss her, teasing her lips apart and showing her that serious men have great fucking passion.
Winnie turns and closes her eyes. “My ex wasn’t a nice guy, though,” she murmurs. “Ian Lennox, you’re a nice guy.”
Within two seconds she’s obviously asleep.
