Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Tonks rewarded this love with a full side-of-the-face lick, ruining her kitty paint.
Emma dissolved into giggles.
Needless to say, my dog was in her element with people, kids, and all sorts of stuff to smell, including other dogs’ booties.
She was in heaven.
And she’d been my perfect little puppers angel.
I was in heaven too, and having an extremist Christian cult as neighbors notwithstanding, the Misted Pines Art Center opening was winning me way over to the side of staying.
I had not lived in a small town in my life. Even when I was with my uncle, he lived in a suburb of Memphis.
This was real small-town living.
And I was here for it.
It felt, after thirty-one years, like I’d finally come home.
“Right, Buckner family huddle, plus me,” I stated. “New proposed deal. I buy the caramel apples if the kids not only agree they have to wait to eat them, but when they do, they get one each, and they have to share them with the entire family.”
“M&M’s!” Liam yelled.
“Ruggy road!” Emma shrieked.
That had me giggling.
“Mabel.”
My name in Hutch’s voice switched the giggling to shivering.
I turned.
And there he was in all his glory, the sun shining on his burnished hair, his wardrobe selection for the day being a short-sleeved burgundy T-shirt over a long-sleeved gray one, jeans, his scuffed-up boots, with the addition of some smoked-lensed, gold-rimmed sunglasses that made me need a bathroom, STAT, so I could ascertain if my panties just did, indeed, melt.
I hadn’t seen that T-shirt look on a guy in years, and I was all in for a revival.
Since I’d met him, I’d thought he’d been growing a beard.
He was cleanshaven now.
Except a thick mustache.
No, I didn’t need to check.
I knew my panties were toast.
“Ahnahtha doggie!” Emma squealed and threw herself at the animal sitting at Hutch’s feet.
Brett jumped forward. Abigail did too.
But I was closer, and at just a glance at his dog, I caught her shoulder and pulled her back.
This had to be Hannibal.
All black, with fur so glossy, it was extraordinary. All muscle, lots of it. He had floppy ears and long jowls.
He was adorable.
He was also huge.
“Hannibal loves kids,” Hutch said to Abigail and Brett.
“Hannibal?” Brett asked, clearly skeptical of that name and Hutch’s assertion.
“The Carthaginian general, not Anthony Hopkins,” I said to save Hutch from having to.
Brett looked to me.
Abigail’s eyes zoomed in on me so hard, I was sure she was reading my X-ray.
She then oh-so-slowly raised her brows.
I ignored her and started the introductions.
“Hutch, this is Abigail and Brett. Abigail is a friend, and she works with me at my store. And these are their kids, Liam and Emma.”
As far as I knew, Hutch didn’t know about my store. We spent time together, but it wasn’t get-to-know you time. It was get-the-dog-to-learn-to-stay time.
Even so, he didn’t blink when I said that.
Nor did he ask about it.
Liam was staring up at Hutch with his mouth hanging open (I got where the kid was coming from).
Emma was skipping in place, and she singsonged, “Hiya, Missa Hutch.”
“Yo,” he said to her.
She giggled for the seven thousandth time that day.
“Abigail, Brett, this is Hutch,” I said to my friends to close out the introductions.
“How’s it goin’, man?” Brett asked, offering his hand.
“Can’t complain,” Hutch said, taking it.
They shook and Hutch turned to Abigail.
She offered her hand. He took it.
And after giving him the once over known around the world as the BFF Preliminary Eye Test, she let him go and said, “Lovely to meet you.”
“Same,” Hutch grunted.
“Can I pet your doggie?” Emma requested belatedly.
“Sure can,” Hutch said.
She went for it even as Abigail cautioned, “Go slow, baby.”
She went slow and patted Hannibal on the head repeatedly, and the big softie just blinked his eyes every time her hand landed what looked like somewhat hard on his skull.
Tonks got jealous and started nosing in.
Hannibal didn’t flinch at another dog that close. Didn’t even move.
But Emma did.
Another neck hug for Tonks and Hutch was informed, “This is my first doggie. Yours can be my second.”
“That’s a deal,” Hutch said.
“We were picking caramel apples, maybe, if Mom and Dad are groovy with it,” I explained.
Emma popped back from Tonks and shouted, “Ruggy road!”
“You’ll wait for after dinner?” Brett asked.
She held her belly and jumped on her toes. “Yes, Daddy! Yes!”
“Don’t even think about it,” Brett said to me. “This time it’s on me. What do you want?”
“Totally M&M,” I said.
Liam shuffled to me, leaned against my side, still staring at Hutch, but I bent to him.
“M&M for you too?” I asked quietly.
Suddenly bashful, he nodded.
“M&M for me too, brother,” Hutch said, pulling his wallet out of his back jeans pocket.
Brett used his fingers to punctuate his order to the kid behind the table. “Three M&M. One rocky road. A turtle and a s’more.”
Abigail leaned into her husband again. “S’more, baby. You know me so well.”