“Dave and I have it under control.” They did. They’d even agreed to a tag-team method that would keep Evelyn out of Rachel’s hair.
Gavin sighed. “Mama can just be…”
Travis glanced at the dogs lying on the other side of the mattress.
He knew exactly how their mother could be. His setup that night was his mother’s doing, and he had her number on this one.
She acted innocent enough when she’d made the arrangements for him to have two furry bedmates, but his mama worried he’d make a move on Rachel. Frankly, after the incident at the lake when he’d nearly kissed her, he’d worried about that, too.
So his mother had saddled him with the two puppies.
No doubt, she hoped they’d keep him occupied, so he’d have no time to go sniffing around for Rachel.
“She can be Mama.” Travis chuckled as he punched the pillow behind his head, willing it into place. “We’ll make sure she doesn’t go full Puffle Yum on Rachel.”
“Thanks.” Gavin said something to someone in the background. “I’ve gotta go, but I’m checking in with the boys again in the morning.”
They said their goodnights and Travis turned off the ridiculous lamp made of antlers on the bedside table. But Travis could not close his eyes. Every time he did he saw Rachel’s pink lips.
Despite what had happened earlier at the lake,he understood that logically he and Rachel should just stay friends. It kept things simple.
He liked simple.
He liked his privacy.
He did not like having his mama all up in his grill about who he was seeing romantically. Therefore, he should keep his romantic entanglements outside of anyone his mother knew, had known, or planned to know. Unfortunately, Travis was never very good at doing what he should.
A wet nose nudged his cheek.
Travis turned his head. Pete stood on the top of the bedspread,wagging his tail and nudging Travis again with his wet snout.
“I’m trying to sleep,” Travis said, adjusting his pillow and closing his eyes.
Pete nudged him again.
Travis rubbed the mutt behind the ears. “Time for bed, kid. Playtime’s over.”
He’d already taken them out and tossed some balls around with his nephews and the pups before Rachel sent the boys to bed. Then he’d taken them out again for an extra bathroom break before he’d crashed himself.
Travis cracked an eyelid as Pete lay down on his stomach, his face right up against Travis’s.
Travis pulled the blankets over his head, and rolled over, willing to dog to go crash on the doggie bed or curl up with Re-Pete at the foot of the mattress.
Pete hopped up and his little paws padded across the bedspread.
Then the distinct sound of a stream of liquid dropping onto cloth had Travis bolting upright. It sounded like someone had turned on a trickle of a faucet.
Given that that there was no faucet in the room and two barely housebroken dogs, Travis flicked on the lamp beside the bed and—with his teeth on edge—he glanced at the dogs.
Re-Pete was still sleeping.
Pete was mid-leg-lift at the edge of Travis’s bed,letting it all flow.
Shit. Well, not shit. But that sound Travis had heard wasn’t water.
It was piss.
Travis groaned and rolled out of bed.
