Pig eagerly waits as I struggle to open the screw-on top I twisted on too tight. Just as I’m considering asking Luna to assist with her superior strength, the lid comes loose. In fact, the bottle opens too fast, jerking in my hold, uncovered and slopping a wave of water over the side.
Directly onto Luna.
The two of us stand in shock. Me clutching the half-empty bottle, her staring down at her drenched white shirt.
“Damn it. Luna, I’m sorry.” I quickly dump the remaining water into Pig’s bowl, then turn back to my wife, wondering if there are towels in her car.
Luna gives me a wry smile. “This is my fault. I knew what I was getting into when I married you.”
I try not to cringe at the memories of all the other embarrassing incidents I couldn’t help stumbling into whenever I was around her. Then my mind blanks when her strong arms wrap around my torso, pressing the damp fabric of her shirt between us until I’m soaked through too.
When I tilt my chin to meet her eyes, there’s a mischievous sparkle in her dark stare. “I kind of love how klutzy you are, Charlie Keller.”
The wordlovehangs in the air between us, lingering there. Waiting for me to grab the four letters and let them spill from my mouth.
I love you, Luna Lamont.
Maybe the declaration plays on my face before making its way to my tongue because, in the next second, Luna lets go, stepping away and looking at anything but me.
“I think Pig is done for the day.” She pats the panting dog before clipping her leash on.
All the playfulness has disappeared. This is business Luna.
“Yeah,” I agree, managing not to choke on the simple word.
For a brief time, everything was right in the world. Now I follow a few steps behind the little family I’ll have to give up in a year.
Because Iwillgive them up. If that’s what Luna wants. She asked to change some of our marriage rules, but not the expiration date.
Funny to know the exact day in the future when my heart will break.
CHAPTER 49
LUNA
Pig won’t stop whining at the back door.
“I just took you on a walk an hour ago! You cannot need to pee again already.”
She yaps out a demanding bark and scratches at the glass.
“Fine. Stop it. You’ll mess up the door.”
I stalk up to her and slide the door open, letting the pit bull out into the fenced area, hoping if there’s a squirrel taunting her, it gets its little fuzzy ass in gear. Pig may look like a lumbering mess, but she can book it when she wants.
I return to the kitchen and my half-finished grocery list. But I’m interrupted again when the doorbell rings.
A groan leaks from the introverted section of my being. I hate it when people just show up at my house. Not that it happens a lot, but still. I fantasize about being an old-timey aristocrat who has a butler acting as the go-between, sending callers away without me ever having to talk to them.
Still, I have the next best thing.
After my dad’s visit, Charlie and I agreed a security system would be a worthwhile investment. Now I have a nifty littledoorbell camera to see who’s on my front porch and an intercom. I don’t even have to open the door if I don’t want to.
Studying the screen now, I get an overly round view of a deliveryman in uniform.
I press the intercom button. “Hello?”
I watch his head tilt toward the outer speaker.
