“A little, but I’m sure I’ll get used to her.”
Sitting straighter now, Skye scrutinized her sister. “Why?”
“I’m not ready to return to my apartment yet. If I’m going to freeload here, I can at least try to be useful.”
Chewing that over, Skye decided it might be a good solution. “It would only be while we’re away at work.”
“And when you get home at four, you can take over again. See? Problem solved.”
Grabbing her phone, Skye texted Ford the plan.
He liked it—or at least he was willing to give it a try, and that was good enough for now.
She turned to her sister with a smile. “Ford agreed, and I’m okay with it.”
“Yay.” Laylee hugged her. “I have a purpose. Now I can stop eating all your ice cream.” While Skye laughed, Laylee stood and then pulled her to her feet. “You’re slap-happy. Time for you to get some sleep.”
Sleeping with Ford again would be better, but honestly, she was so tired, she was more than ready to crash.
One way or another, this would all work out. The dogs just needed a little more time to settle in, and with Laylee’s help, they shouldn’t have a repeat of today’s total destruction.
* * *
One week later, Ford was ready to pull out his hair.
He’d envisioned plenty of private time with Skye, not necessarily in the bedroom—though he sure wasn’t opposed to that—but sitting together on the couch, the dogs cuddlingwith them. Or long walks talking while the animals got fresh air. Playing fetch in his backyard. Swimming in his pool, with Maybelline and Tank lounging on the deck in the sunshine.
Ha!
Everything that could go wrong, had. The dogs, who’d been oh-so angelic at the shelter, had a terrible time adjusting to being “home.” He still loved them, and he didn’t regret having them. God, no. He looked at Maybelline and no matter what, his heart felt full. Even Skye’s dog, that little rascal, still amused him.
But the destruction. It occupied most of their time. Cleaning up dog poo with Skye somehow wasn’t as appealing as the scenarios he’d had in mind.
He had hoped that Laylee’s offer to puppy sit would solve the problem.
But no, it most definitely had not.
Ford had to give Laylee credit for trying, yet every single day there was a new catastrophe. Today he’d deliberately arrived home before Skye, only to find Laylee on her knees scrubbing a corner of the kitchen while casting worried looks at the dogs.
Poor Skye. She’d arrived home shortly after, and it took only a single look to know she wasn’t getting enough sleep.
He’d offered to clean up, but both women had suggested he take the dogs back to his house while they got things in order. Not how he’d wanted to spend the evening, but he’d reluctantly agreed.
Later, they’d eaten dinner on his back porch and of course, that was fine. As long as he and Skye were around, the dogs behaved. Unfortunately, they both had to work.
Over the next few days, Skye settled on a name for her dog: Tank. As in a water tank, since he sprinkled often. Ford thought the name worked because the runt considered himself as invincible as a tank.
She took a day off work to help get the dogs settled, and reported that they were angels.
The next day, with Skye back at work, Ford made a point of taking off early. He got home, parked, and jogged to Skye’s house, hoping Laylee would have a good report.
Instead, he found her sitting on the couch near tears, beautifully rumpled. Her hair, currently in a high, messy bun, listed to one side. She wore no makeup, and her usually stylish clothes had been replaced with well-worn yoga pants and an oversized Aerosmith T-shirt.
All around her, the house was a wreck. Tank chewed on a flip-flop, and Maybelline was sprawled out a good distance away, her head on her front paws, her expression glum. That was, until she saw him.
Ford took it all in with one sweeping glance and decided Maybelline was the top priority. Kneeling down, he opened his arms and the dog shot forward with undiluted glee.
Laughing, he sat against the wall so she couldn’t knock him over. She snuffled his face and neck, howled with happiness, and finally, after wearing herself out, flopped onto her back with her head in his lap, staring up at him adoringly.
