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I grin to myself, my face flushed as I position my smoothie and breakfast sandwich before sending him a photo. He hearts my photo before writing back.
Riggs: Good girl.
My thighs clench, and the butterflies dance in my belly.
Me: You’re very demanding. Bossy, even.
Riggs: So I’ve been told. I don’t see a problem.
Nor do I.
Me: I know I work for you, but you treat me like one of your players.
Riggs: Stop acting like them, and I won’t.
Me: How would you like me to act?
When I send the little angel emoji, I know I’m playing with fire, but I can’t help it. I didn’t sleep a wink last night. No matter that I rubbed my clit to the point of pain, I couldn’t get off enough to fall deep into sleep. I am so unsatisfied, it’s tragic. I was so enveloped in his smell, in my thoughts of him doing the dirtiest things to me, it almost brought me to tears. I want him. But I hate that I can’t get a read on him. One minute, I think he wants me too, but then I second-guess myself, thinking he is only looking out for me because he’s older than me.
It’s really frustrating.
After my run that didn’t help a damn thing, especially when I got lost, I took a shower, loaded up the dogs, and then we went to pick up all my other charges. Once I got them settled with my two employees, I headed toward Drippy Drip to get my smoothie. I added the sandwich when I remembered Riggs would be on me if I didn’t. I probably need the fuel after no sleep and getting lost, considering I have to go over to Dirty Pages to unload shipments.
Since Louisa has moved to Nashville to be with her hotshot hockey-player hunk, I have taken over receiving shipments for her. Eliza was doing it, but she basically moved to Nashville too. I’m not sure what will happen with Dirty Pages. There is talk of opening one in Nashville, but it does so well here. Tourists and locals love what the store offers. Romance-only books? I mean,come on! It’s the best, and I love it. That’s probably why I don’t mind spending one day a week there.
Beside me, Gordie and Gretzky sit so pretty, while Darcy is on his back, his legs in the air as he squirms against the floor. As bad as it sounds—and trust, I love my boy—these three remind me of the hyenas fromTheLion King. Two are all put together and smart, while the third is derpy. I know I’m wrong for thinking my boy is derpy, but Gordie and Gretzky make him look bad. Alone, he is the bestest, smartest boy, but alongside the mini-me’s of Riggs McCoy, he’s a bit of a loose screw.
Now I feel bad.
With a giggle, I lean down and scratch Darcy’s belly. His tongue lolls out, and his eyes are full of love for me. “You may look derpy with these two around, but you’re my baby, aren’t you?”
Gordie leans his head against my knee, and I kiss his nose. “I love you too.”
Gretzky doesn’t let anyone upstage him, licking my thigh until I kiss him too. “You too, you sweet boy.”
Me: I think the boys love me more than they love you.
I send a photo of all three dogs loving on me and smile when Riggs hearts my photo.
Riggs: Or they’re trying to get food out of you.
Me: Rude! I am a great dog sitter.
Riggs: Never said you weren’t. You’re the one trying to steal my boys from me.
Me: Scared?
Riggs: Not even in the slightest.
Me: I could steal them, you know.
Riggs: How? We three run eight miles. You couldn’t keep up.
Me: Wow, choosing violence this morning?
I can’t help but grin.
Riggs: You tell me you got lost, and you make it a point not to take care of yourself. Oh, and you’re trying to steal my dogs. Talking to you raises my blood pressure and forces me to choose violence.
