Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
She pursed her lips. “Harri and Drey exchanged numbers, but not as two people looking to date. He wants her to give private lessons to his dog—apparently the canine is a lunatic who’s been so far impossible to train.”
Huh. “What about you and Jag? Were numbers exchanged?”
“I won’t lie, the dude is hot as a motherfucker. But Raven told me he’s dating someone. She works in the same tattoo shop as him. The one Caelan owns.”
I felt my shoulders sag. “Bummer.”
“All the pretty ones are taken lately.”
The door hinges creaked as Dax walked inside.
My sister waved. “Hello, brother-in-law.”
He tipped his chin. “Alicia.” Having gotten a good look at the stacks of boxes waiting in the hallway, he slid his gaze to me. “Do you realize that almost half are labeled ‘books?’”
I tugged at the bottom of my tee. “Yes, I do. I’ll make no apologies. It’s a harmless addiction.”
He hummed. “My mother has an awful lot of books, but I think you may have her beat.”
“Don’t worry, they’ll all fit in my bookcase.”
His brow dented. “There’s a bookcase big enough to hold that many novels?”
Alicia chuckled. “Yup. It has ladders and everything.”
“It’ll fit perfectly fine in the sunroom,” I assured him. It was the room he’d cleared so I could set up a home office.
Right then, a knock came at the front door. Our helpers were finally here. Dax welcomed them inside, and Alicia took orders for drinks. I didn’t miss that a long, heated look passed between her and Jag.
I tried to help move the boxes and furnishings, but the guys refused, saying I’d have enough to do once it came to unpacking. Maverick also claimed their mothers would kill them if they heard that their sons hadn’t done the heavy lifting for me. As such, I mostly stood with Alicia and silently objectified the living shit out of them.
Don’t get me wrong, I had no eyes for or interest in anyone other than Dax. That didn’t mean I couldn’t acknowledge when another guy was hot. And oh, I acknowledged.
Despite being cousins, Maverick and Jag didn’t look much alike, though they were both tall and edgy. Lean and toned with a silver tongue, Maverick sported choppy hair the color of faded gold and light-hazel eyes that held a permanent “up-to-no-good” gleam. Jag was a broad, muscled, dark-eyed, tattooed slice of bad-boy heaven who didn’t talk much—he was more of a grunter, but in an inexplicably appealing way.
I found it interesting that, after their initial clash of gazes, Jag made a point of not looking in my sister’s general direction. Similarly, though she took the occasional sneak peek at his ass when he bent over to lift stuff, Alicia otherwise paid him little attention.
Handing a glass of water to Drey when the guys took a quick break, I said, “I hear my baby sister is going to help you train your dog.”
He flashed me a dimply smile. “That’s my hope. But other trainers have failed, so I’m not optimistic—and I mean no disrespect to Harri. He’s just a nut.”
“He really is,” agreed Caelan, taking a cold glass of lemonade from Alicia. “And he’ll eat anything.”
Maverick nodded, his eyes gleaming with both humor and frustration. “He tried chewing the wheel of my bike. And my phone. And my oil rag.”
Drey sighed, carving his fingers through his short dark hair. “I’m starting to think he has no sense of taste.”
“Who?” asked Jag as he strolled into the hallway having exited the half-bath.
“Sabre,” replied Dax.
Jag grunted. “Yeah, any creature that will willingly try to eat a bottle of antibacterial gel either can’t taste shit or ain’t right in the head.”
“Could be both,” said Dax. “It’s lucky for him that Drey swiped the bottle from him before his teeth could pierce it.”
Drey’s eyes, their color a dark midnight blue that was exceptionally striking, settled on me again. “Don’t get us wrong, Sabre’s a great dog. He just also happens to be a pain in the ass to train.”
“If anyone can help, it’s Harri,” declared Alicia.
“Definitely,” I agreed. “She’s magic with dogs.”
Once their break was over, the guys began shifting the last of my things to the van. Meanwhile, I—after a long and arduous struggle—managed to get Gypsy into her pet carrier while Alicia bagged the few kitty things I’d left lying around, such as the bed and food bowls.
Eventually, all was done. I said goodbye to my sister, whispered a mental farewell to the house—telling myself I was not feeling teary—and went back to Dax’s villa.
Since I needed to keep Gypsy indoors for a few weeks so she’d accept this was her new home, I didn’t let her out of the carrier until the guys were done bringing everything inside. She all but flew out of it with a yowl of complaint and then disappeared into the kitchen.