“A bit,” I rasp.
My eyes meet hers, and she’s staring at my body. She quickly looks away. “Did you have fun, though?” I nod. She’s in a jumper and leggings, her hair swept into a high ponytail.
“Merry Christmas, Monty.”
“Do you want your presents?” she asks excitedly.
I can’t help smiling. “Sure.”
“Yay!” She hops out of bed, and when she returns, I bolt upright. “Surprise!”
Blinking, I stare at what’s cradled in her arms, then at her. “You got me a dog?”
“Yep! Look at him! Isn’t he cute?” She runs over and hops back on the bed, releasing the German shepherd puppy onto the covers. He’s mainly black, so though he looks nothing like Motor, he’s still damn cute, and he marches over to me, his wildly fluffy tail wagging behind him. “It was not easy keeping him quiet last night. Your friends were the perfect distraction.”
The dog reaches me and immediately starts licking my beard. “You really shouldn’t buy twenty-year commitments as gifts.”
“Oh, hush up, Scrooge. I figured you probably missed Motor, so it makes total sense. Look at him!” She tickles his belly. “He’s adorable, right?”
He really is. But can I look after a dog? I suppose so. I’m about to retire, and if I do get a ranch somewhere up north, a dog could be good company.
So, I smile. It isn’t a decision I’d have made for myself, but maybe this can be the start of my new chapter. “Thanks, Monty.”
“What are you gonna name him?” She flops beside me, and we stare up at the dog as I hold him in the air. He pants down at me.
“Fox.”
She angles her head to watch me. “Why Fox?” I wiggle his fluffy tail and she grins. “Right. Cute. Are you hungry? I’m gonna attempt to make breakfast.”
“Starving.”
She hops up. “Food on the way!” she sings and disappears into the hallway. I smile as I watch her leave, then place Fox back on the bed.
“What is she up to, dog?” I ask him and he barks excitedly, wiggling his booty, fat tail swishing back and forth. Glancing at the door Monty left through, I wonder if maybe I’m being too harsh. She did a nice thing for me last night, and even though I thanked her, I also accused her of having an ulterior motive.
Maybe, just maybe, despite the murders, she’s like me.
A little lonely.
Before starting breakfast, Monty sits on the living room floor and divides up the dog accessories she bought. Fox rolls around in the packaging as she organizes toys, leashes, bowls, treat containers, food, and even a Christmas outfit for him. She immediately pulls it over his head, and Fox bounds about by the tree, his green and red sweatshirt looking damn fucking cute.
“Look at us! A happy family,” Monty says, looking up at the Christmas tree.
I added a few more decorations while she was out yesterday, so it looks a little fuller. A little brighter, too.
Maybe this isn’t the worst way to spend Christmas.
“Okay, now time for food.” She hops up and makes us breakfast sandwiches. As I go to collect the food to take to the dining room table, I pause.
“You said presents, plural. What else did you get me?”
Monty lingers by the kitchen island, searching my face for a few seconds, then takes something out of her back pocket. It’s a small envelope, and inside are six white cards, all with the same words written on them in elegant handwriting.
IOU.
I liftmy eyes to her. “What’s this?”
“For the next six days, I’ll tell you six things about myself. Totally true, no bullshit.” She takes out an extra card, but this one is midnight blue. She twirls it in her fingers. “And this one means you can ask me anything.” She hands it to me, and our fingers brush as I take it.
