AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Even Matty’s brothers, who live to tease Matty about how he’s gone from Problem Child to Probably Asleep by Nine P.M. in the blink of an eye.
But Matty doesn’t care. He lets the teasing roll off his back with a smile. He knows that we might be in bed by nine p.m., but rarely are we sleeping. We’re too busy making up for lost time.
Which reminds me…
I lean closer to Matty on the couch, whispering, “I had some leftover fabric last night. You know what I did with it?”
He arches a brow. “What did you do with it?”
“I made an extra cheerleader skirt,” I murmur, snuggling closer to his side. “A very short one. In just my size.”
He hums low in his throat, a hungry sound I know has nothing to do with food, considering we’ve both eaten our weight in nachos since arriving at Mel’s house. “Any plans to model it for me later?”
“If you play your cards right,” I say, reaching out to pet the kittens, who are both currently out cold on a pillow on Matty’s lap, exhausted by their first McGuire family party. “Though there is one problem.”
“What’s that?” he asks, his hand sliding down my back to curl around my waist.
“I didn’t have time to make the little panties you’re supposed to wear underneath,” I say, innocently batting my lashes. “So, I guess I’ll have to wear the skirt without anything on underneath.”
“I’m going to get the car, meet me at the side door in five minutes,” Matty says, starting to rise from the couch.
I grab his arm, giggling softly as I pull him back down onto the couch. “No, we can’t. We have to stay for at least a little longer. I need to see the halftime show.”
He scowls. “The boy band?”
“No, silly,” I say, glancing up at the screen as the announcer introduces the boy band in question, a group I dimly remember thinking were overrated when I was a kid. Now, I can admire how well the members of the band have held up in middle age, but not nearly as much as I admire puppies.
“Shh! It’s time! The puppy bowl is about to start!” I shout to the rest of the party, which I swear gets louder with every passing minute.
Every McGuire in town is here, and all of them were allowed to invite a plus one in addition to their significant other. Mel is trying to expand her social circle post-divorce, which is great, but at this rate, she’s also going to need to expand her home. Her adorable two-story cottage is filled to bursting and about to overflow the wraparound porch outside.
“Guys, come on!” I call out again as a group of McGuire men loud-laugh at the punch bowl not far behind us. “Puppies! And Christian and Starling are going to be on TV!”
Starling organized the first annual Bad Dog Puppy Bowl as a fundraiser for the animal shelter with Christian, her fiancé. They’re serving as “coaches” for the two opposing teams and have all kinds of silly puppy games planned. I’ve been looking forward to the show all day, even if it is going to be broadcast on public access, not in high def.
Laughing, Matty grabs the remote from the couch cushion beside him. “I don’t think we need to hear it to enjoy it, but we’ll crank the volume anyway. These clowns have had way too much beer to stay quiet for more than thirty seconds.”
I cast a judgmental glance over my shoulder at our friends and family. “Beer or not, I don’t understand this lack of interest in puppies.”
Keanu Reeves, Barrett and Wren’s dog, lets out a rusty bark from the recliner on my other side, where he’s also been napping, proving that animals are way smarter than people. Animals realize that football is about as much fun as watching paint dry.
All the pets in our vicinity passed out long ago and Bella, the de-scented skunk, simply…vanished sometime after kick-off and was discovered playing in the sandbox outside with the older kids, though no one can remember letting her out. Starling didn’t even try to bring Kyle the turkey and his wife, Penny. She said that turkeys have a notoriously short attention span for anything that isn’t food or playground-equipment related and dropped them off in Gram’s backyard to zoom down the toddler slides for a few hours.
Gram elected to stay home from the party, too. She’s not a fan of football and she and her boyfriend, Slasher, wanted to spend their Sunday re-watching Spinal Tap. Slasher was a drummer in a metal band for thirty years, and Gram loves a mockumentary. She also still loves getting it on with Slasher, a thing I try not to think too much about. When I found their stash of Viagra while packing up my things, I simply put it back on the medicine cabinet shelf and backed away.
I wish my grandmother a spicy last act of her beautiful life, but I want to know as little about it as possible.
“Damn, that’s crazy cute,” Matty murmurs, gaze fixed on the screen, where the cameraman is weaving in and out of a pack of puppies in matching football jerseys. Some are wrestling with dog toys, some chase each other in circles, and a few are as dead to the world as the kittens, but they’re all the most adorable beasties ever.
I emit a girly squealing noise that is any red-blooded woman’s response to that much cuteness on a screen at one time and squeeze Matty’s arm. “Oh my God, they’re precious. Let’s adopt them all.”
He chuckles. “I think we have our hands full with Curtain Shredders One and Two right now, but I’d be up for a puppy in a year or so.”
I sigh and lean my head on his shoulder. “That sounds perfect. I’m so glad I’m not scared of animals anymore.”
“Me, too.” He kisses my forehead. “You’re a badass.”
“Thanks. You, too,” I say, kind of loving that no one knows what a badass Matty is but me.
