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Then the smell hit her.
She looked down at Rebel and drew in a fortifying breath. “All right. Bath time.”
chapter nine
After an early meeting with his agent, Connelly packed an overnight bag and then ran into town to hopefully find a sleeping bag. If he was going to be sleeping on Veronica’s porch for the foreseeable future, he needed something warmer than the thin quilt from her couch. He froze his balls off last night.
He also wanted a gun.
The process of buying one in California was lengthy, and although his military service helped expedite things, he still wouldn’t have it in hand for ten days. He should’ve brought his gun from home, but he hadn’t expected to need a weapon.
Veronica’s panicked call came as he was checking out at the sporting goods store.
Rebel’s gone.
Dammit, he hadn’t left Veronica the leash. Zak had warned him, but Rebel had been so good he’d forgotten about her propensity for running away.
He all but threw his money at the cashier and raced out to his car, throwing the sleeping bag into the back seat. He cursed himself during the entire fifteen-minute drive back to her place. He should’ve expected it. Of course Rebel wouldn’t listen to Veronica. She didn’t know her, had only met her yesterday. They didn’t have any kind of bond.
He pulled into the driveway and jumped out of the car the second it rocked to a stop. He cupped his hands around his mouth and boomed, “Rebel!”
No response.
Shit.
Maybe she was at his place, waiting for him to return. He hadn’t thought to stop there on the way here. He’d check on Veronica, then jog home and see if he could find the dog.
The door was unlocked, which had his stomach twisting up in knots. Veronica said she never forgot to lock the door, and this was the second time he’d found it unlocked in the last twelve hours.
“Vee?”
He heard a noise from the bathroom.
Was that... a struggle?
And he didn’t have a fucking gun.
He called on every second of his many hours of training in the dojo, sinking into an offensive stance as he approached the bathroom door. He took a calming breath and pushed it open...
And froze.
Veronica was in the shower, dressed in her old Air Force PT gear, straddling Rebel. They were both covered head to toe in bubbles, and the floor was flooded with water. A tiny brown and white dog with huge ears sat on the toilet lid, watching the chaos unfold with his front paws crossed in a princely way.
And Veronica was laughing.
Veronica.
Was.
Laughing.
Connelly stared in awe. He hadn’t seen her laugh in years. She had always been beautiful, but at that moment, she was radiant. Her laughter echoed off the tiled walls, filling the room with joy. It was like the sun had come out after a brutal storm, and everything was clean and bright. She looked so free, so happy, with the weight of the world lifted from her shoulders.
Christ, he’d missed her.
This version of her.
The Veronica he remembered.
