Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Yeah, he’d taken the dog home because she’d looked at him with big puppy eyes and basically begged him to save her from death.
It was only later that he discovered Papillon’s animal services had a no-kill shelter.
Of course, by then he was half in love with the pit bull mix. He was fairly certain that Dolly was half sunshine, because she always made him smile. Though he was not smiling today. Nope. Today she’d chased butterflies, and butterflies had led her to the water, and then she’d obviously decided that it would be fun to catch a fish, but oops, the mud was bad news.
He knew better than to get in the bog. Intellectually, he knew it was a terrible idea. He’d been out on calls to this very spot and had to help dumbass mudders get their vehicles out of the sludge, or the occasional deer who wandered in and couldn’t escape. He was fairly certain lots of animals got stuck and became an easy meal for the gators.
He hoped the cute blonde hurried before he became one of those meals.
Dolly whimpered and seemed to try to wrap her body more closely around his neck and shoulders.
“You know you’re supposed to be a badass dog who everyone fears, right?” She’d obviously not gotten that note. Dolly was the sweetest dog he’d ever had.
His dad thought she was Rufus, the dog he’d had while growing up. She didn’t look anything like Rufus, who’d been a smaller hound, but that didn’t stop his dad. Major didn’t look much like his long-dead uncle, but his father had no problems calling him Henry and talking like they were brothers. Like they were brothers and it was 1954.
His father was losing his grip on reality, and Major was doing everything he could to keep him in the here and now. If that rope came completely loose, his father would be lost to a sea of memory. The doctors didn’t hold out much hope. He’d sat down with them the day before and gotten the hard talk about what was likely to come in the near future. After the fifth time his dad had wandered off and nearly been killed, Major had to accept the fact that he couldn’t take care of his dad the way he needed to. His stepmother had fled the minute the diagnosis had come down, and now he had to be the asshole who’d put his father in an assisted living home.
He was pulled from those dark thoughts by the sound of a vehicle moving slowly and carefully down the trail. Normally he would tell anyone that driving down here was a bad idea, but he desperately needed that truck, or he could be in this horrific position for hours.
Was that a snake?
Dolly barked and bounced. He definitely would not need to work on his shoulders and arms this week. Maybe ever again.
Thank god the blonde seemed competent. She was driving that truck with a careful hand as she turned the front of the vehicle toward the water. He could see the winch and the chain that would pull him from his folly.
Hopefully he’d be able to keep all his limbs intact, though he’d consider giving up a few to get on dry land again.
She put the truck in park and climbed out. “There’s a large piece of what looks like siding in the back. I think Harry was planning on a trip to the dump later on this week. I thought we could use it to get your dog on dry land. I think it’s long enough that she should be able to walk to the shore.”
“I promise she won’t bite.”
A brilliant smile lit the woman’s face. “She doesn’t look like she bites. You’re a sweet girl, aren’t you, Dolly?”
Dolly’s tail thudded right against his face. “Yep, she’s a sweetie. And she’s heavy. Really heavy.”
The woman nodded and disappeared behind the truck.
He probably shouldn’t notice that her backside was as pretty as the rest of her. He should have his brain firmly focused on being rescued and not on how hot his rescuer was.
But it had been a long time since he’d thought about how hot anyone was. Despite the fact that he’d been on twenty-two blind dates in six months, he had not clicked with a single eligible woman. Some had been pretty or funny or kind. Some were all three, but he hadn’t connected with any of them. He’d gone on more than one date with four of the women, but each relationship had fizzled out before they ever got to a place where he might have thought about sex.
He hadn’t thought about sex—really thought about sex—in months. But given the way that pretty woman’s backside swayed, he was thinking about it now.
He didn’t even know her name.