Page 53 of The Mr. Right Checklist

“I won’t come between you and your daddy again,” I whisper, petting her. I’m not ready to leave them yet, but I’m sure Fletch wants to decompress and spend time alone with Molly. Besides, it was my clothes she ate, which makes me a reminder of what she’s just been through. “Do you want to drop me off on the way home?”

As we head out the door, he drapes his arm over my shoulder. “Are you sick of us, sunshine?”

“Not at all.”

“In that case, how about we get that pizza and chill for a while with Molly?”

Happiness skips through me. “I’d like that.”

FLETCH

We’re four episodes into The Office when Destiny snuggles deeper into my side on the couch, moving her hand from my leg to pet Molly, who’s lying on my other side with her head on my lap. What a turn today has taken. I feel like a boomerang. This morning I was reluctantly heading in one direction, putting space between me and Destiny. Now I’m nestled between my favorite four-legged girl and the woman who’s quickly becoming my favorite two-legged girl, with my feet up on the coffee table beside an empty pint of Cherry Garcia ice cream and two spoons in an empty pizza box.

I didn’t even realize how badly I wanted to be here. I could have done without the incident with Molly, of course, but that’s my own damn fault. I wasn’t thinking. Well, I was, but not about anything other than getting Destiny naked. And Jesus. Sex with Destiny is out of this fucking world. I don’t know if it’s because of how close we’ve gotten at breakneck speed, or her sexy mix of innocence and seductiveness, or something else altogether, but sex has never felt so intense.

As the episode comes to an end, I reach beside my leg for the controller, and Destiny puts her hand over mine, wide eyes gazing hopefully at me. “Just one more episode? I love the scenes with Pam and Jim, and I really want to see if they get toge—” A yawn swallows her voice.

She’s so damn cute. That’s exactly what she said after each of the last two episodes. I’ve seen the whole series before, but this is her first time watching it. I don’t dare tell her she has to watch a few more seasons before she gets her answer. I’d be happy to sit here all night playing with the ends of her hair while she binges the show, just so I can hear her giggles, aws, and ongoing commentary. She talks to the characters like they might actually listen to her. I have a feeling that as much as she likes the idea of all-consuming death-till-you-part love, she’s enjoying the anticipation of hoping Pam and Jim come together, too.

The next episode starts, and she snuggles in again. “Thanks for watching another one with me. I promise to leave right after it’s over.” She made the same promise after the two previous episodes.

I had forgotten how nice it is to enjoy the company of a woman like this. I’m not ready for our night to end, but the angel on my shoulder reminds me that I don’t want to give Destiny the wrong impression. The less angelic creature on my other shoulder says it’s just one night and reminds me that we’ve more than cleared the air about where we stand. Destiny’s voice whispers through my mind, underscoring that reminder. That’s a ravine not easily crossed and certainly not by a man who doesn’t nail nearly every item on my checklist . . . Being the orgasm king does not wipe out all the other items on my checklist. My competitive side hates that I could fall short in anything, but that’s just my ego talking. The man behind the ego would much rather have the title Orgasm King than Forever Guy.

Having convinced myself that one night together is safe, I press a kiss to her head. “I think Molly wants you to stay.”

She glances up at me. “You think Molly does, huh?”

“Look at her.” I nod at Molly, who looks perfectly content with my arm over her back and Destiny’s hand resting beside her head. “She’s had a rough night. She deserves a little extra attention.”

“Mm-hm. Okay. I’ll stay.”

We settle in to watch the show. When her hand slips off Molly’s head to my leg, I cover it with my own, holding her a little closer. I’m glad you’re staying is on the tip of my tongue, but when I speak, “Thanks for staying for Molly” whispers out.

Chapter Sixteen

DESTINY

I wake to the tickle of dog fur on one cheek and Fletch’s breath warming my other. I’m trapped between them. Literally. Molly’s lying on top of the covers, her big body pressed against my side. I’m beneath the covers from chest to toes, but Fletch has somehow managed to bunch up the covers between us around my legs. His upper body is under the covers, his arm resting on my stomach, his hand cupping my boob, and his leg is bent at the knee, trapping both of mine beneath it.

I don’t move, for fear of waking them. We stayed up late watching The Office, and after finally coming upstairs, we fooled around again with Molly sleeping across the bottom of the bed. I’ve never laughed so much during sex. Or, rather, had the urge to laugh and tried to silence it. We were trying not to move too much or make too much noise, so as not to wake Molly. But Fletch is over six feet tall, and sharing a bed with an eighty-five-pound dog means far less foot room. Just thinking about how hard we tried not to laugh, shushing each other and covering our mouths, makes me laugh—and it bubbles out too fast to stop it.

I clamp my mouth shut, but it’s too late. Molly rolls over, and her front legs land on my stomach and Fletch’s arm, earning an “Oomph” from me and startling Fletch awake.

He groans, trying to push her away as she covers our faces in slobbery kisses. Now I’m even more trapped, and all I can do is crack up.

“Come on, Molly. That’s enough.” Fletch lovingly pushes her off my chest, and she plops down beside me. He leans over me and pets her. “Good girl.”

I love that he’s such a softie for her. Those amused baby blues find me, and my stomach flip-flops. I tell myself it has nothing to do with the way he’s exuding some new, disarming charm or the incredibly fun, sexy times we shared last night and that it’s only happening because I’m seeing him in a different light than the usual perfectly put-together Fletch. His hair is sticking up all over, his sleepy expression is devastatingly sexy, and his scruff has thickened, giving him an edgier vibe. But I know it’s a mirage. He’ll shower and shave, and an hour from now he’ll be back to normal, my stomach will settle, and the vibration in my chest will stop.

“Sorry about Molly.” He leans in and kisses me.

“She’s fine. I’m in her bed, not the other way around. What time are you leaving to go fishing?”

“I’m usually gone by now.”

“Oops. Sorry.”

“I’m not. It was worth it. I’ll just get a late start.”