I ladled up a spoonful. “Forgiven,” I mumbled around the creamy soup.
“What was that?” She gave me an expectant look.
“It’s delicious,” I said with resignation.
“I know.” She winked and turned on her heel. She came back with a perfectly normal bowl, laughter dancing in her green eyes as she sat at the end of the couch with a towel of her own.
“Couldn’t find bowls, huh?”
“My bad.” She dug in and hummed out a delighted groan. “Is there anything better than soup on a freezing cold day?”
I couldn’t disagree, so I kept my damn mouth shut and kept eating.
The dog whined, but didn’t move from his position in front of the fire.
“Oh, sorry, boy.” She popped up and set her bowl on the end table. She ran to the kitchen, that ass jiggling enough to darken my mood again. She came back with a little baggie. “I kept some for you, too.” She lowered to her knees in front of the dog and gently fed him each morsel, praising him each time he took it from her with gentle licks to her fingers.
My chest tightened at the innate kindness that lived inside of her.
She ruffled his ears and kissed his nose, then wrinkled her nose. “You need a bath.”
The dog’s tail thumped.
She grinned. “Let me eat my soup first.”
“You are not bathing that mutt in my house.”
“Fine. I’ll take him to mine.” She plopped on the end of the couch, tugged the end of the blanket over her lap and picked up her bowl.
“Good. He’s not staying here.”
“Heard loud and clear, Porkie.”
“Stop calling me that,” I growled.
“Eat your soup.”
I resumed eating because the soup was too good, especially since it finally warmed me up. The only sounds were the tap of silverware and occasional slurp between us.
The silence was actually nice. Much better than the echo chamber of my own mind lately.
I finished the gravy boat, set it on the coffee table, then slid down in the blankets, my full stomach making my eyelids go heavy. Sleep had been elusive even before flying across country. I hadn’t actually been the one to drive the moving truck or my pickup hitched to the back. My publisher had taken care of that as well as the house I was renting.
That was how important my book deadline was.
One more brick sitting on my shoulder.
Especially since a good chunk of my advance went to the reason why I couldn’t fucking write this book.
I tipped my head against the cushion as exhaustion dragged at me.The cross-country flights had longer layovers since there were limited direct flights to Albany, New York.
The next thing I knew, the room was quiet and dark save for the flickering of the fire and the light sound of snoring. My long ignored bladder made itself known. I tried to move and found something heavy on my good foot.
A little moan and rustle of blankets surprised me.
She was still here?
And sleeping against my leg. She’d curled herself around me, making sure to keep my foot beside her and elevated. Her shoulder was tucked against the pillow to keep my leg in place while I slept.
