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)
That damn menace to society. I should see if she’ll trade me, watch my dogs and I’ll train her wiggly fucker.
Me: That’s fine.
I send her my address, and her return text comes almost immediately.
Clara McDavid: I can’t wait! You won’t regret this!
I reread the text, and even my cock agrees that I probably will regret this.
But I can’t help the excitement that courses through me.
Yeah, that can’t be good.
CHAPTER 4
Clara
“Who has you smiling like that?”
I look up at my sister, who is lying back on her elbows on the blanket we have spread out in the grass as the doggies run around the park of my resort. I know my face is bright with a grin from the text exchange with Riggs McCoy, and I’m not even trying to hide it. I’ve been waiting years for him to contact me—okay, it’s been three days, but I don’t know what he was waiting for. He told Peepaw he wanted to call me and hire me at the Pucks and Pups event, so I’ve just been waiting. Not so patiently. I’m not the best at patience, but I truly felt that Riggs and I vibed. He was feeling what I was selling, and he needs me.
Who else can watch his dogs?
No one. That’s why he needs me.
“Coach McCoy. I’ve been waiting for him to get back to me. He needs someone to keep his pitties, and duh, I’m the best.”
She rolls her eyes as Darcy lies across her lap, licking her belly. He’s just as excited as I am about our new nephew. “And you think he’s hot.”
I groan loudly. “So fucking hot!” I squeal, and her laughter is lyrical. “I swear, it’s as if God was up there like, ‘Hm, let me make the finest man alive for Clara and put him in her path.’ Boom, Coach McCoy.”
Elliot rolls her eyes, rubbing her belly. “He’s almost old enough to be your dad.”
I wave her off. “And I have no issue calling him Daddy.”
She snorts at that. “I never understood your attraction to older guys. Even when we were growing up, you always flirted with the teenagers, not the boys.”
I shrug. “I want someone with experience.”
“You’re so bad,” she says, smacking me with her foot. “You need someone to match your freak.”
I beam. “That too. And that’s usually older guys who know how to give me what I want.”
Elliot’s laughter is intoxicating as I grin from ear to ear. “You’ve always been an old soul too.”
For good reason. I had to grow up really fucking quick. Being the baby of five didn’t do me any favors. My sisters fled the moment they could from the cult we grew up in, and I don’t have the trauma they have. I think it’s because I learned from them. No one could touch me if I didn’t come out of my room. If I sat way in the back of the church services, so I went unnoticed. If I volunteered for all the girl-only events so none of the guys could catch a whiff of me. I did everything to be a ghost, and it worked for me. I wasn’t touched, raped, or forced into marriage. I also think my older sisters hid me from everyone. Did things to get in the way so I could stay in the shadows.
Which is why I feel I owe them everything.
They don’t feel the same and only love me, but my heart swells at the thought of them.
No matter the reason, we’re free. I have watched each of my sisters fall in love and find their happiness. After being in a situation where all I did was watch them cry or be in pain, I’m about to explode with joy that we’re all safe and protected.
“Do you think he’s interested in you?” Elliot asks as she rubs Darcy’s head absent-mindedly. As much as she says she doesn’t like my dog, she’s always petting and loving on him. Probably because my good boy is all about protecting his auntie. He growled at Alejandro when he was yelling about a messed-up DoorDash order. It wasn’t even directed at Elliot and me, but Darcy crawled over my sister and protected her. He’s my sweetest good boy.
I snort. “He looks at me like I’m a rock in his shoe.”
She sputters with laughter. “No way!”
“Yes! He’s so damn grumpy and put together. I wanted to mess him up, have him break control, and be on the receiving end of the repercussions.”
Elliot rolls her eyes before shaking her head. “You are the epitome of a brat.”
“Proud of it,” I throw back, cupping my face in a girlie way and grinning at her.
I’m met with her laughter as I look around the yard, counting my dogs. I have thirteen today, and while most of them are mutts, I have some purebreds. They are the bougie ones sitting to the side, watching all the cool doggy fun being had. I roll my eyes, but I can’t even with them. Instead, I take in how beautiful each dog maze is, how I worked so hard on the fence and the painting along it. I went with a groovy pink-and-orange theme, so everything is bright and eye-catching. I love the sun, the peace sign, and the dogs. It’s perfection in my head.