Page 32 of The Other Half

“No, Poppy! No!” she screeched when Poppy leaned forward, a tentative touch bringing her nose to nose with Hank.

“Cassie.” I laughed. “He’s not going to eat her. Calm down.”

Poppy dodged Cassie’s next attempt at picking her up and her nervous barks transformed into playful yips. Hank looked at me for permission and I released him with a nod. Leaping up from his stay, he dropped onto his front legs and pushed his butt in the air. Startled by the sudden movement, Poppy skirted away, but then turned and faced him. His big tail wagged back and forth, and soon Poppy dropped down in front, mimicking his play bow.

“See, they’re fine. Just let them be.” I stepped to her side. Biting her fingers, she watched the two dogs frozen in a state of anticipation, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

“Are you sure he won’t hurt her?”

“Positive. He’s got lots of dog friends. Although, none of them are bat-squirrel crossbreeds.”

A sideways glare met my eyes and even though it was only a second, and without the full weight of her gaze, I almost toppled off the porch. Damn. This was going to be a long night trying to resist the feelings those eyes induced.

Hank popped up and took off racing through the yard. Poppy shot after him and soon a game of tag ensued, each dog taking their turn tearing across the yard after the other. Little barks of happiness came out of Poppy’s smooshed face, and Hank returned them with a big, loud ruff. The sound made Poppy turn and flee in fear, racing between Cassie’s legs.

“Are you hurt? Is she hurt?” Cassie picked her up and turned her in all directions, looking for injuries that didn’t exist.

“She’s fine. Aren’t you, Muskybait?” I scratched the little dog on the head.

“Her name is Poppy,” she corrected with a playful glare.

“Hasn’t Poppy ever played with another dog before?” Cassie shook her head, and I reared back in surprise. “Never?”

“No. I was too worried she’d get hurt.”

“Wow. Hank loves playing with other dogs. I’ve even thought about getting a second one just so he could have a buddy.”

Poppy wiggled in her arms, the shock from the big sound Hank made long forgotten.

“Poppy, hold still!” Cassie said, trying to restrain her.

“Just let them play for a minute. They were having fun.”

Worry furrowed her brow, then she gave in and set Poppy down. The little dog took off after Hank and the game of tag resumed.

“You’ve really never let her play with other dogs?”

“No. I was too scared. I’ve never even had her off leash outside. I’m trying not to freak out.”

“You gotta let her be a dog and have some fun, you know.”

“She’s not a dog. She’s a princess.” Her soft smile lifted those lips and when she looked at me, I felt her ice pick tapping away at my shell again.

Tappity – tap – tap. I wanted to take that damn pick and drive it so far into the ground the earth’s molten core would incinerate it.

“You ready to go fishing?” I asked, dropping my gaze to my feet.

“I think so. Am I dressed all right?”

“You’re not in stilettos like I was expecting, so I think we’re good.”

“Dick,” she teased, and I chuckled.

“You want to bring Poppy? Hank loves coming along. He eats the guts.”

Pulling a face, she shook her head. “God, no! I’ll be worried enough about myself. I don’t need to be worrying about Poppy falling in, too.”

“That would be bad. You know, with the Muskies and all. Since she’s—”