“Phoebe.”
“Just give me a few minutes, all right?”
I blew out a breath. “Yeah.”
I watched her go, annoyed at myself for the knee jerk reaction. My chest tightened when she crouched down with the dog, hugging him tightly.
“You’re such an asshole,” I muttered to myself.
NINETEEN
Phoebe
I hungonto Mouse for a few minutes longer.
Intellectually I knew something must have happened to him to make him so suspicious of people, but in my heart it hurt that he still thought I could do anything to harm him.
“You know what? Fuck him.” I mumbled into Mouse’s fur. “Fuck him.”
After he just fucked me senseless and left me floating somewhere in the rafters of my freaking studio he has to pull that bullshit. I sniffled and blinked away the tears that wanted to come. He didn’t deserve my tears. I was not going to cry over him.
The sound of a rumbling engine had me straightening.
“Shit.” I dashed away the tears that made it through.
My little sister’s Jeep came bounding down the road. The ridiculously oversized tires looked out of place here, but worked for the forest trails and marshy areas around the lake. Mud splattered over her door. It was barely forty degrees but she already had her hardtop and doors off. Only a seatbelt kept her safe as she hung out the side.
“How’s my favorite sister?”
I laughed. “What are you doing over here?”
Liberty pulled up into my driveway and hopped out, her perpetually crooked ponytail sliding to the side of her head. “Well, I was over here releasing a barn owl and I thought you might have a little lunch for me?”
“I just got home, but I’m sure I can find something for you.”
She ran over to Mouse who practically leaped into her arms. Animals never could resist her. “Aren’t you the bestest and prettiest of all the boys?”
I put my hands on my hips. “I don’t get the first hug?”
She gave Mouse a hard rub down and he hummed in ecstasy before she clomped over to me, her boots caked in what I hoped was only mud and hauled me into a hug.
I hugged her back a little longer than I should have and she pushed me back, narrowing her eyes at me. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“That face doesn’t say nothing.” She tipped my chin up. “And that beard burn says...well, hello.” Her attention averted over my shoulder.
I turned and swallowed down a sigh. Dutch slipped out of my studio, his gaze lowered to the ground. He jammed his hands into his pockets looking guilty as hell. Geez, his flannel was half tucked into his jeans. I widened my eyes at him and cleared my throat.
He glanced up frowning.
I stared at his zipper.
He looked down and flipped out the tail of his shirt. “Uh, hi.”
“Is this Dutch?”
He scrubbed his hands down his thighs, unclenching his fingers and shaking them out.
