Page 126 of Twins for Three Bad Boys

Why did he do all of this if he didn’t want me to leave? Why get me fired? Why cheat on me? None of it makes any sense. I can’t understand his motivation at all.

Tears spill before I can stop them, hot and humiliating, sliding down my face while the river keeps moving like nothing in the world is wrong.

I swipe at them angrily as I rise to my feet, needing to move before this consumes me whole.

Headlights sweep across the path. An engine idles, then reverses slightly. A window rolls down.

“Well,” a voice drifts out, warm and low, “that’s either the most aggressive power walk I’ve ever seen, or you’re trying to intimidate the river into apologizing.”

I look up.

Rex

Bolt’s enormous head is already halfway out the passenger window, ears flapping like he’s personally responsible for aerodynamics.

The relief that hits me is almost embarrassing.

Rex takes one look at my face, and his teasing expression softens instantly.

“Hey,” he says, gentler now. “You okay, darlin’?”

I try to answer, but it comes out as a shrug.

He doesn’t press—just leans across and pushes the passenger door open. “Climb in. I was about to take Bolt for a drive. He’s been sulking because I wouldn’t share my fries.”

Bolt makes a dramatic huff like this is a documented injustice.

Despite everything, I almost smile.

My phone buzzes again in my hand.

Decision made.

I get in.

Bolt immediately attempts to occupy my entire lap, which is ambitious considering he weighs roughly the same as a small bear.

“Oof… Bolt,” I laugh weakly as he plants one paw directly on my chest and licks my cheek with alarming enthusiasm.

“Traitor,” Rex mutters. “I rescued you from a ditch, and this is the loyalty I get.”

Bolt ignores him and sneezes directly into my hair.

I freeze.

Rex bursts out laughing. “Well. That’s one way to clear your sinuses.”

I stare at Bolt, horrified.

Bolt stares back, delighted.

And then, because the universe has a sense of humor, he tries to climb fully into my lap, back paws still on the seat, front paws wrapped around my shoulders.

I let out a real laugh this time. The kind that breaks through the tightness in my chest.

“Okay, okay,” I say, pushing gently at his giant head. “I love you too, but I need oxygen.”

Rex reaches over and gently tugs Bolt back by the harness. “Personal space, buddy.”