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I turned to Adeline who shrugged. “She counts her steps. Maybe we’re just lucky that she didn’t have anything in her path, cause if there was, she would’ve tripped over it. She does that a lot, so try to keep your shit clear of her walking paths.”
Viddy returned on the tail end of our conversation with an old pair of pants in her hands. “I do count. I’ve counted the number of steps four times today. Here, I sat on one of his balls yesterday before Addy packed them. My ass had a ball shaped wet imprint for nearly an hour. They were one of the lasts to be packed. Will this work?”
“Yep.” He said holding the pants up in the air so he could see the ball imprint, and then held it down to Radar who appeared at my side. “Retrieve.”
We all watched in fascination as Radar started to search in slow, methodical loops until he centered on one single pile of boxes. Then, with his large nose, he pushed the top box off the pile of boxes. Then the second before he got to the third and sat on his haunches.
“There anything breakable in them?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Probably not. I don’t do breakable real well.” She teased.
Sure enough, the one box he didn’t knock to the ground was the one that had the balls in it.
“That’s still impressive; even after seeing him do it half a dozen times.” Loki said with a shake of his head.
Trance smiled. “He’s a smart boy, aren’t you big boy?” Trance asked Radar with a scratch behind the ears.
“Well my dog has a trick, too!” Viddy exclaimed and jumped to her feet. “Give me those balls. Three of them.”
This is how Trance and Viddy started trading dog tricks. Although Hemi holding three balls in his mouth was impressive, it was decided that Radar definitely trumped Hemi in the trick department, much to Viddy’s disappointment.
CHAPTER 8
My 34-year-old boyfriend still plays with fire trucks.
-Adeline to Silas
ADELINE
I had a phobia.
It had to do with large bodies of water.
There was nothing I hated more than going down the road that crossed the dam and the spillway. The road itself was narrow and had to be at least a mile drop down to the water. If, for some reason, my car happened to careen off the side, it’d end up as a folded hunk of metal that would sink more easily once it hit the water. With my luck, my car wouldn’t be stopped by the metal barriers that were intended to keep cars safe, and I’d plummet to my death, drowning in my car at the bottom of the lake.
When I’d gotten to the lake, which happened to be Sebastian’s house, I’d been okay. However, getting there was a major feat for me.
I’d met Baylee, formally, for the first time.
Baylee was Sebastian’s wife.
She was also a paramedic with the Kilgore Fire Department, a town about forty-five minutes west of Shreveport. Currently, she was on maternity leave with only two more weeks until she had to return to work.
She was definitely a talker, too.
We were in the baby’s room, and I was trying my hardest not to watch as Baylee was pumping. When I say pumping, I mean she had these medieval torture devices on her tits that were sucking the life out of them. Literally. They started out absolutely massive, and by the time she was done, they were little more than deflated bags that resembled normal breasts again.
Why was I looking at her boobs?
I couldn’t tell you. I guess when she’d asked if I minded if she pumped, and I didn’t automatically shout ‘Fuck No,’ she thought it was okay to whip the old fun bags out and start that shit. Yes, the majority of the time they were covered. But still.
“Why don’t you work for Benton?” I asked Baylee, trying my hardest not to look at her nipples that were elongating into the slender tube.
Baylee laughed. “First of all, I can’t handle spending that much time with my husband. He tends to turn into an alpha-hole when he wants me to do stuff a certain way.”
My head turned slightly. “What does alpha-hole mean?”
Finally, she disengaged the torture devices from her boobs, tucked her boobs back inside the shirt she had on, and stashed the milk in the mini fridge; big cones and all.
