We were in the middle of renovations at the bakery and starting the interview process again, but I had to leave work every few hours to take him for potty breaks and to see what fresh hell awaited me. I felt awful leaving Katie while I went to check on Bradley even for just a few minutes, but she loved seeing pictures of the furball and hearing stories about his art of destruction. Though I suspected she really just wanted to keep my mind off of missing Liv and Grace.
Liv didn’t even know about Bradley yet. I’d barely spoken to her except for a couple of quick texts and frazzled conversations where one of the kids was inevitably screaming in the background. I’d told Grace all about her new furry brother, but left out that he’d turned our home into a fucking biohazard.
In the ten days I’d had him, he’d peedeverywhere,murdered the mini blinds in the living room, used my espadrilles as a chew toy, and pooped on my favorite rug. And this wasn’t just any poop. It was like someone had lit a stick of dynamite up Bradley Cooper’s ass. It reminded me of when Grace was a little over a year old and she’d gotten a stomach virus. She had a poop explosion while we waited at the pharmacy—one of those where you wonder how it’s possible to shit so hard it goes all the way up your back.
I’d thrown out the rug along with my pride when I finally called Derek and begged him to come take Bradley Cooper for a walk while I attempted to remove the smell of dog shit.
The destruction had culminated in me having a breakdown on this particular afternoon when I’d come home to discover that Bradley Cooper had thrown up on my favorite quilt. I’d thrown it in the wash, and the next thing I knew the small room had been overtaken by bubbles.
I glanced over to the laundry room door where Bradley Cooper eyed me with concern, probably wondering why I’d collapsed in a heap of tears amidst a growing sea of bubbles. He might be a terror, but he was mine.
“You’re never going to leave me, are you?” I sniffled.
His tail whipped around like a propeller as he ran to me, licking the tears off my face. He yipped over the sound of the washer that continued to churn and vomit bubbles.
I rolled my eyes, annoyed with myself for crying over a fucking washing machine. The damn thing had held on through thousands of loads of laundry over the course of nineteen years.
I felt like I was losing so much already, and the universe had to go and take my fucking washing machine too?
Grace had been telling me for the past three years to get a new one. But it wasn’t that easy. It wasn’tjusta washing machine.
The doorbell chimed, and Bradley Cooper barked once to inform me. “Stay,” I told him as I pulled myself from the floor and trudged to the front door.
I swung the door open to find Cash standing there looking like he walked out of a Men’s Warehouse ad. He was impossibly handsome in his dress pants and lavender button down with the sleeves rolled up. His forearms seemed to have become my own personal aphrodisiac.
“Hey.” I gulped down the fire that had ignited at the core of my belly. “Thanks for coming.”
Cash nodded. “Of course.”
He stepped over the threshold, and I closed the door behind us. My mind flickered to the night we’d stumbled through that very door, unable to keep our hands off each other.
“Is everything okay?” Cash asked.
Before I could answer, Bradley Cooper bolted toward us, barking and covered in fluffy, white bubbles, leaving a trail of foam behind him.
“What the—” Cash startled as the shaggy terrier jumped on his leg, his helicopter tail spinning out of control. He crouched on his knees, laughing as the pup smothered his face in kisses. “Since when do you have a dog?”
“Since the day after Grace left. I couldn’t take being in this house alone,” I said. “Meet Bradley Cooper.”
“Thisis… I mean, you named your dog Bradley Cooper?” Cash asked.
I shrugged. “Yeah. Why?”
He cleared his throat. “It’s just… it’s a unique name for a dog. But I like it. Suits him.” He turned his attention to Bradley Cooper who was still licking his face. “Isn’t that right, Bradley? Who’s the best boy?” Cash’s voice had turned to molasses as he spoke to the dog. He scratched behind his ears and accepted the puppy kisses graciously. Bradley Cooper was so excited he peed a little bit.Me too, buddy. Me too.
There was something about a man who was good with dogs and babies that was undeniably sexy. Thank God there weren’t any babies in the vicinity for Cash to snuggle because my ovaries might have put him in a chokehold and held him hostage.
Finally, Cash rose to his feet and touched my shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too.” I averted my gaze to keep from throwing myself into his warm, strong arms.
His eyes crinkled with concern. “So, what’s going on? You look like you’ve been crying.”
“It’s the washing machine,” I said. “I think it’s dead.”
He chuckled. “Okay, let me take a look.”
“I don’t know what happened. I did what I always do,” I explained as I led him to the laundry room. “Butthishappened.”
