Page 83 of Quiver

“A little too soft and smiley for my tastes.”

“A little too blonde for me,” Kylie added, then reached out to tousle Fletcher’s curls before catching herself. They’d managed to maintain the peace and even survived a few conversations pushing the border of casual, but she wasn’t sure she trusted either of them to move into an easy sort of affection. Still, she couldn’t restrain a little quirk of a smile as she said, “I like a darker kind of handsome.”

Fletcher regarded her warily and looked like she might say more, but the side door swung open and Bear bounded through. He skidded around the corner, nails scratching for purchase on the tile floor as he raced toward Fletcher, tail swinging wildly. Scrunching up his hindquarters like he intended to spring forward, Kylie reacted to the threat before she even assessed it. She lunged before the dog had a chance to and, catching him by the collar, swung her body between him and Fletcher.

“Down,” she commanded in an authoritative voice, and the big lug of an animal dropped his lumbering butt to the floor instantaneously, then stared up at her as if awaiting his next command.

“I’ll be damned,” Fletcher said behind her.

“Huh?” Bex stopped halfway through the door.

“What?” Ava called from behind her.

Bex stepped aside. “Kylie put herself between Bear and Fletcher.”

“Uh-oh.” Ava peeked in to see the dog sitting patiently, then raised her eyebrows.

“What?” Kylie asked.

Bex laughed. “I’ve been trying for, like, a year, and he’s never once sat for me. I even bribed him with bacon yesterday.”

“Are you serious?” Fletcher asked. “You fed my dog bacon?”

Bear whined a little, and Fletcher reached over to pet his head. “No bacon.”

“It’s hard to be the stepmom.” Bex shrugged. “Or at least I thought so until Kylie arrived.”

“And he’s our dog.” Ava came into the kitchen carrying a large tote. “We don’t load him up on artery-clogging junk, but a little treat every now and then won’t wreck his figure. Besides, he’s been worried about you. He kept pacing by the door and whimpering.”

Fletcher’s expression softened, and she gently eased herself off the couch onto one knee, running her hand over the top of Bear’s furry head. “I’m okay, buddy. No need to worry.”

Bear’s tongue darted out and swiped a long streak across her face before she leaned back and laughed. “Ugh, this is why I don’t let you kiss me. You’re sloppy.”

“Glad to know you’ve still got standards.” Kylie held out her hand to help her up.

Fletcher shot a pointed glance at Ava. “No bacon, no jumping, no French-kissing. They seem like low bars for dog ownership, but some people in the room can’t manage to hurdle them.”

“I can raise my dog how I want, Grumpy Mom,” Ava shot back, then smiled. “And if you’re going to take that attitude, I’ll take all these amazing meals I made you back home with me and Bear.”

“Shut up while you’re ahead, Bouchard.” Kylie cut back in. “We’re running low on canned soup, and it’s about to snow again. I’d hate to have to resort to cannibalism in the coming days.”

“Good call,” Bex said. “Ava’s been cooking nonstop, and I can vouch that the lasagna is life-giving.”

“Why don’t I inspect it while you inspect the patient?” Kylie suggested.

“Deal.” Bex pulled out a chair from the kitchen table. “Have a seat, Fletcher. You can listen to the menu while I prod a bit.”

Ava and Kylie stepped away to give them a bit of space while still staying within earshot. Bex helped Fletcher out of her overshirt.

“How’s the pain?”

“Manageable.”

“What’s that mean, given your superhero abilities?”

“When I’m holding still, I don’t even notice it’s there. It hurts when I tighten those muscles, but not as bad as the first day.”

“How are the meds affecting you?”