And…God.
My luck?
The worst.
Panic hit me that he might interfere with Tonks and Moxie.
“Don’t you dare scuttle my apps,” I hissed.
He got toe to toe with me.I wasn’t short, but he was six inches taller than me, and in that moment, intimidating as all get out.
“Hear me, woman,” he growled.“I’ve been inside you.The very next day I get a call from you tellin’ me you got an issue.Harry confirms that issue is a possibleissue.I’m doin’ something about it.”
“I had no idea who you were when I called, and if I did, I wouldn’t have made that call.”
“I know you didn’t,” he returned.“But I sure as fuck knew who you were, and you did call me.So this shit is gonna get sorted.”
“I—”
“How often do you look over your shoulder when you’re in your own fuckin’ home?”
My teeth clacked audibly, I shut my mouth so fast.
“Right,” he whispered scarily.“Again, this shit is gonna get sorted.”
“No offense, but I don’t want your dog.I want Tonks.”
“Fine,” he bit out.“Then you’ll get Tonks, and my training, three times a week.Go to the feedstore so you can be ready for a pickup tomorrow.Their shit is the best quality, and the cheapest.”
“I already researched that, Heir Hutchison,” I snapped.“A grouchy dog trainer gave me the idea.”
He dipped his head so his nose nearly brushed mine.
“Enough with that shit.I’m not grouchy,” he grouched.
“You’re entirely un-self-aware if you believe that,” I fired back.
He scowled at me.
I glared at him.
This went on awhile.
I caved first, because, seriously, the dude was intimidating.
I mean, how could this man sing such beautiful, melancholy songs?
Even if I gave up our staring contest first, I did it snarkily.
“Can I get to my truck?”
“It’s Thursday.You got tomorrow and Saturday to get Tonks settled.Sunday, I’ll be at your place at one to start training.”
“Tonks and I might not be there,” I retorted.
“Then wherever you are, you better get your ass home, Mabel.Because I got special forces training, and if you’re not there, I’ll find you and drag your ass home.”
He had special forces training?
