Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Well, I think you two are meant to talk,” Dan says, clasping me on the shoulder. “I know this is a good fit for the pups.”
Yes, the pups. Not us.
Not that there is an us.
He walks away with an encouraging smile for Clara, but she’s not looking at him. She’s looking at me. With that blinding smile and those navy eyes shining just for me, she says, “I’d love to discuss this more and throw my hat in the ring to take care of your babies.”
My chest warms, and I know I should say no. I know I should run the other direction or let the dogs loose and chase them to get away. Problem is, my boys are trained and won’t run. But also, I don’t want to walk away.
“Aye, lass. Hit me with your hat.”
That was me talking, but I sure as shit didn’t want to say that.
And that’s why fate is the ultimate cunt.
CHAPTER 2
Clara
Each of my sisters has dropped like flies for six-foot, bulky, drop-dead-sexy hockey players. When I say drop, they dropped hard. Each of them fell head over heels in love with their forevers, and I’ve watched it all go down, beaming with pride and excitement for them. Now, because of my sisters’ significant others, I have been getting my fill of gorgeous hockey players. All the same as my sisters’ men—tall, yummy, and ready to bust doorframes with their wide shoulders.
But they don’t do a thing for me. I thought maybe I just didn’t get bitten by the need to be railed by a hockey player, but that’s because my sights have been set on the coach.
Riggs McCoy.
Or, as I like to call him behind his back, Zaddy.
If you don’t know what a zaddy is, when you Google the word, you’ll not only be hit by the definition of a sexually attractive man, especially an older one, who is fashionable or charismatic, but you’ll also see a photo of Riggs McCoy.
Coach of the Knoxville Bears, owner of two adorable pitties, and my wet dream on legs.
Good lord almighty, he is stunning. Strong jaw, large shoulders, dark hair that he always has brushed to the side and shaved perfectly along the side of his head. It’s tousled at the top, making me think he’s run his fingers through it many times. I want to do the same. I bet his hair smells good too, of bergamot and pepper, like him. He has a dark beard that covers his jaw, but that is neatly trimmed and groomed. He’s tall with a fit waist, massive legs, and wide shoulders. His eyes are the darkest brown I’ve ever seen in my life. They’re like two pools of dark chocolate, and man, I want to be covered in his gaze. Badly.
I’ve been attracted to Riggs McCoy for a while now, and really, how could I not be? He’s gorgeous and even has a fan page that objectifies his looks. Yes, I’m on that account daily, and no, I’m not ashamed. I can’t help it. There is something about how he always looks like he wants to fight someone and glares at every turn. Even right now, as he looks down at me like I stink, I want him to rail me. I’d gladly drop to my knees for him, just to see if I could ease that furrow in his brow. To turn up those downturned lips and have him grinning at me. He looks as if he gets off on control with how he stands with his shoulders back and even how his dogs sit very prettily and well-behaved. I bet his whole life is totally planned out and he does the same thing daily.
Meanwhile, I don’t even know what is happening in ten minutes or even ten years. I’m just living my best life, and my meathead, Darcy, is winding his leash around my legs like he has no sense. He is nothing like who he is named after. There is nothing regal about my pit bull. He is a meathead and sort of dumb, but he’s all mine. I love him more than anything. And he loves me just as I am.
A walking dumpster fire of glitter and treats.
Now, if only Coach McCoy looked at me like I have all the treats…instead of like I’m holding a box of sardines. His eyes narrow, and I remember he told me to throw my hat at him.
I’d rather throw my clothes, but I refrain and flash him a wide grin.
“I am the proud owner of Dog’s Day Out. I have a route where I go and pick up twenty dogs daily and take them out to the resort to play with their friends. I have over two hundred dogs on my roster, so my days fill up very quickly. But for you, I’d make sure to have a standing opening for your pups. What are their names?”