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Climbing from the car, I went around and let Fred out of the passenger side, where she trotted across the grass and then squatted to pee. Earl lumbered over, his tail wagging. Fred faced him and, if she had much of a tail, it would be wagging, too. Instead, her entire back half swayed back and forth.
Daniel stood and came over. The closer he got, the more I had to tip my head back.
“Hello. Um… what are you doing here?” I asked. Daylight was barely hanging on, and it would be dark soon. And colder.
“I want a paternity test,” he announced.
I blinked. “What?”
“You’ve met Earl?” He pointed to the huge dog that circled Fred. He dropped on his haunches and offered her a playful bark, then leaped around her.
“Of course. Daniel walks him this way.” I pointed down the street.
“To keep things… us straight, call him Danny. And yes. That dog.” He pointed to Earl who was sniffing the frozen grass in a line toward the mailbox as if he was a hound. A string of slobber dangled from his jowls. “The one who got Fred knocked up.” He tipped his head down to Fred who was sniffing around his ankles. She didn’t seem too keen on Earl, or she was playing hard to get, which I thought was a little late.
“How do you think they pulled it off?” he asked.
“What, sex?”
“Yes. He’s a Bull Mastiff.”
“Okay. Um, snuck in the backyard, I guess.”
He shook his head. “Not where, buthow.It can’t work.”
I blinked. “You mean he’s neutered?”
I hadn’t really looked to see if Earl still had his balls, and I wasn’t planning on checking right now.
He winced. “No. I mean, he’s big. She’s little.” He ran a hand over his hair. In the fading sunlight, it wasn’t as dark as it seemed in the vet office. More a mahogany than black, with hints of silver at the temples. And the beard… it had a tinge of red in it.
“Does it work for you?” I asked.
His eyebrows went up, then blinked at the unexpectedness of my question. “What?”
“Sex. I mean… you’re big.” Oh my God. Did I just ask him that?
“Always,” he admitted with a heavy dose of confidence. He even rolled his shoulders back in a way that said without words he was virile and potent.
“You’re saying that because you’re big you can’t have sex with someone who’s small? I mean, you’reverybig.”
He grinned. “Very.”
I blushed because he was inferringeverywhere.
“I’m sure it’s possible,” I added, because I’d never heard of sex not working because of size incompatibility. I didn’t have any personal experience, but I researched.
His gaze raked over me again, just like in the vet office. Thoroughly, slowly, and from head to toe.
“It’s definitely possible,” he confirmed.
Gah. He was talking about the two of us now, not dogs.
“Lots of ways to do it,” he added, in case I had any doubt.
“Oh, so dogs do it all kinds of ways? I may have missed that animal documentary on canine reverse cowgirl.”
His mouth fell open in something akin to awe. Or surprise at my sarcasm and momentary sass. I kind of surprised myself, as well. The corner of his mouth tipped up.
