Page 108 of Wag More Bark Less

Got it!

Oh, no.

Socks everywhere.

Ellie Belly will get them later.

Open the gate.

Good, Ellie Belly.

Forever Dad didn’t lock his back door.

Ellie Belly can figure this out even without a rope.

Jump, paw.

Jump, paw.

Jump, paw.

It’s open!

Ellie Belly’s the smartest girl.

C’mon, sock basket.

This is your new home.

THIRTY-EIGHT

LUKE

It’d been years since I rode the hayrack ride out to the pumpkin patch for the opening event of Golden Days—a pumpkin carving contest. I usually drove my patrol truck, met my niece there so she could select her favorite pumpkin, and drove back separately. I stayed at the community center as long as I could to help her carve her pumpkin, but inevitably something always came up, and Connor had to finish the job.

This year was different.

I was in plain clothes and not allowed to interfere in police matters barring a true emergency.

The trailer lined with hay bales bounced along the gently rutted dirt road out to Benson Farms. Maggie was tucked against me, wearing one of the two flannel jackets I’d yet to get back despite that we were now practically living on my side of the duplex. Her clothes were all over my room, there was a dog bed nestled under the living room window, and makeup was scattered all over my bathroom counter.

Ellie sat at Opal’s feet, sniffing the air as the ride rolled along at a whopping ten miles per hour. The rain earlier in the week kept the dust down, and I tried to see the scene through Maggie’s bright eyes—autumn colors were at their full brilliance, water rushed under the bridge, and sunlight cast a glow across the mountains. It was like a storybook scene.

“She really loves it here,” Maggie said about Ellie.

Opal gently stroked the pup. “She’s happy because it’s home,” she said matter-of-factly.

My niece did that a lot. Spoke things as though they were fact. As though someone else was speaking through her. Connor, who was sitting right beside her, didn’t react.

If only this were Maggie’s home too.

I shook away the intrusive thoughts before they dampened the mood. I still had two weeks with the woman tucked into the crook of my arm, and I wasn’t going to ruin them by thinking about what would happen after she headed east.

We both understood there wasn’t a future here. It’d taken me three years to entertain the idea of a relationship—and eventually a family—after Raquel skipped town. Maggie was only three weeks into her life-altering decision. It wasn’t fair to expect more of her so soon after calling off her wedding. That didn’t take into account her family counting on her help when the baby arrived.

She was always going to leave.

We both agreed to enjoy what we had while we had it. Maggie might’ve suggested that sentiment while kneeling in front of me, her hand wrapped around my cock as she guided it to her mouth. But even with a clear head, nothing else made sense. I couldn’t keep her in my bed forever, but there’d always be a place in my heart labeled Miss Mayhem.