Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 119764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
“It was your daughter’s idea,” Aggie says mildly. “She wanted to do this for you. Thought you might like to have a little privacy with that man of yours. And me, I thought it was a good idea. You’re so damned anxious about everything that I thought it would be one less thing on your plate.”
“I’m not anxious,” I protest, feeling even more guilty.
“Girl, please.” Aggie gives me a wry look as she shuffles inside the “room.” “You give me anxiety just watching you. Anyhow, no need for you to keep your man at arm’s length around us. You’re allowed to be a woman and be a mother at the same time.”
“Yes, but Rabbit comes first.”
Aggie leans on her cane, glancing around the quarters set up for us. “We set you up at the back of the store, so you can feel like you have a little more privacy. Rabbit’s moving her room all the way to the front, by the windows. She says it’s because Kermit doesn’t like to go deep into the store, but I think she wants you to have space. I told her to go into that sporting goods store and find that man a pair of shorts. She did, too. Got three pairs and a backpack, though I don’t know what he’s gonna do with the backpack.” She waves a hand at the surroundings. “Anyway, it’s in here somewhere.”
I’m speechless, but I know Aggie wants—and deserves—words of praise. So does Rabbit. “This is really special. You guys are very thoughtful to do this for us. I hope it wasn’t too much work.”
“It was far too much work,” Aggie tells me, a gleeful smirk on her face. “I mostly sat in a chair and directed while Rabbit did all the heavy lifting. She’s a good kid.” Her expression changes to something a bit more severe. “She’s a big girl, too. Knows about the birds and the bees. She wants you to be happy, and if you keep acting like an anxious idiot, you’re going to make her upset.”
“Acting like an anxious idiot is what I do best,” I joke.
“I noticed.”
Ouch. I gaze around the sweet little room, thinking about everything she said. Rabbit and Aggie worked on putting the room together for us. No mention of Dottie. I think again about her out-of-character nap yesterday. “How’s Dottie feeling today?”
She shrugs. “Fine. Just tired.”
“You’re sure? Nothing more?”
“Nothing more. Let it go.” She glares at me. “If she wanted us in her business, she’d say so.”
I want to press for more details, but maybe I am being too anxious. Dottie’s old and maybe she’s just tired. Not everything is something to worry over, I have to remind myself. I decide to change topics. “Well, this room is amazing and I can’t thank you guys enough. How are the puppies?”
Her wrinkled face lights up, and she nearly knocks her wig askew with excitement. “Squirmy and adorable! Come look at ’em!”
You’d think I didn’t look at them yesterday just before I left. But who in their right mind turns down a chance to look at a bunch of adorable, squirming puppies?
CHAPTER 77
MURR
I love returning home to my mate. Even before I can see the building the females have claimed as their own, I can smell Dakota’s light, perfect scent on the breeze. It fills me with joy, and when I fly overhead, the females are seated by the fire, waving up to me. My cats emerge, crying and ready to be fed.
Was ever any male drakoni so loved by his clan? My heart is full.
Tossing down the dead deer, I tear the carcass apart with my claws, shredding it so it is easier for my cats to eat. The cats mew and clamber toward their meal, pausing to rub up against my haunches as they move past in a show of affection. I shift quickly to my two-legged form, eager to hug my mate.
She appears with a wrap for my loins, but when I try to hug her, Dakota squeals and skitters away. “You’re covered in blood!”
I glance down at my arms. She is right—I am splattered in gore up to my arm-spikes. When I had no company other than my cats, it was easy not to think about being messy. It didn’t matter, but Dakota covers herself in layers and they will smell of blood if I touch her. I nod, shaking my arms as if that will clean them. “I wash.”
“I’ll help you,” she says, and indicates I should follow her inside.
When we get to the back of the building, she turns a knob set in the wall and water pours out. She’s shown me this once before, and I could manage it on my own. But when Dakota picks up a towel and wets it, then moves towards me, I realize she wishes to bathe me herself. The warmth in my chest grows and grows.