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“I’ll call him first thing in the morning.” Mason took my phone from my hand, put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me to my feet. “But in the meantime, how about we test out that gigantic bed in the master?”
I took a big breath and harnessed my racing thoughts. Then I took another one and let some of the tension out of my body with it. “You got us this big, romantic place for the weekend and I’m not properly appreciating it, am I?”
“You’re worried about your nieces.”
“I crimed away our entire hot tub time,” I said. “But don’t worry, babe. I’ll make it up to you.” I slid my arms around his neck.
He wrapped his around my waist and pulled me close, lowered his head and growled a playful little growl. Then he kissed me like he’d just returned from a year fighting Nazis overseas. Oh, hell yes.
Beep! Beep!
The blast of a car horn made me jump so hard I smacked my forehead into Mason’s nose. “What the?—?”
One arm still around me, Mason went to the front door and opened it to see who the hell was blasting their horn in the driveway of our romantic hideaway in the middle of the night.
Jeremy. Who else?
I scowled at him hard enough to melt his tires. But then he got out of the car, went around to the passenger side, opened up the door, and scooped out a sixty-pound English bulldog and I went soft and gooey.
“Myrtle!” I said, pushing past Mason, out the door, and down the driveway. I leaned in and kissed her face. She smiled from ear to ear, (yes, dogs do smile,) snarfed in joy, and squirmed in his arms so hard she farted.
Myrtle hated being carried with the fires of a thousand hells, with two specific exceptions: up or down our stairs, by Mason.
Jere hunkered and set her down. I crouched and she shot right to me almost as if she could see me there. Her other senses were sharper than ever before, I thought as I scratched her face and rubbed her ears the way she loved best. She wiggled to tell me she’d missed me. “Okay, okay,” I said. “I know, I missed you too.”
I rose and hugged Jeremy. “Why are you here?”
“You find Misty yet?”
“How do you even know she’s not here?”
“Dorm room is empty, and her car’s gone. Plus, Christy called and spilled her guts a few hours ago. Myrt and I left right away.”
“I don’t think it’s that dire.”
“Christy says you’re worried. If you’re worried, I’m worried. That’s why I’m here. By the way, Myrt’s favorite bed, feeding dishes, and chew toys are in the trunk. I should?—”
“I’ll grab them,” Mason said, and took the keys.
Jeremy was a good man, I thought. A lot like his uncle. Even thinking he’d been dumped— which he hadn’t— he’d come all the way out here to help us look for Misty. He was worried.
I was, too.
“We’re pretty sure she’s helping her podcaster friend Zig investigate a cold case. Come on inside, and we’ll fill you in. Then we’re gonna get some sleep while you listen to a couple hours’ worth of podcasts to get caught up.”
“I listened on the way out,” he said. “And I think I’m all caught up. Where do we start looking?”
I opened the door and held it for Jeremy to go inside, then for Mason, whose arms were full of Myrt’s luggage. After Jere was out of earshot, Mason murmured near my ear, “His timing could’ve been better.” And his warm breath sent a delicious shiver right down my spine.
“Yeah, but he brought Myrt,” I said. “You think that’s gonna be all right with the owners?”
“It’s Myrt,” he said. “She’ll spend most of her time on her bed. They’ll never even know she’s been here.”
“Maybe not. Providing we vacuum all her little white hairs before we leave.” Then I kissed his chin and took my dog inside to show her around our temporary home away from home.
Chapter 7
CHRISTY
