Page 23 of Pour Decisions (Stryker Family #3)

JD

“Hey,” Kat mumbles, squirming in my arms.

We finally passed out after another two rounds, her back against my front. I haven’t slept this hard in ages. Usually my thoughts and my back pain keep me awake. But physical therapy has lessened the pain, and finally having Katrina in my arms has quieted my thoughts.

She was joking when she was talking about the obstacle course full of monsters, but I’d fucking do it if it were real.

“Hm?” I open one eye and come face to face with Bubba. He’s standing over Katrina, his nose to her temple. “Bubba, quit it.”

He steps back, but stays hovering, tail wagging.

“Oh, you’re in his spot.” I sit up on one elbow. “His pillow.”

“What?” Kat sits up. She picks up the pillow her head is on, which has a lopsided B embroidered on it. “Oh. The B. For Bubba.”

“My mom made it. You mind having him as the littlest spoon?” I ask.

“Of course not.” I hear the smile in her voice.

I put the pillow in front of her and pull the covers back. Bubba lays down, head on the pillow, and I cover him with the blanket.

“He sleeps like a human?” Kat asks with a laugh.

“Yep. He’ll steal the blankets too if you’re not careful.” I give him a pat on the side over Katrina’s hip.

“Mm.” She curls up into her pillow again. “We’ll all have to snuggle close, then.”

I don’t mind doing that at all.

But I do mind Bubba waking up at the same time as he always does, his wet nose in my ear. Usually I don’t care because I’ve slept alone in my bed the entire time I’ve lived here, but now my cock is hard and Katrina’s tits are soft in my hands.

“Bubba.” I try to wave him off, but then he tries squeezing between us. He’s eighty pounds—he’s not squeezing anywhere. “Shit. Sorry. He needs breakfast.”

“It’s okay.” Katrina stretches, the blankets exposing her body. Now I’m even more annoyed at Bubba, but then again, it’s not like he knows. He just knows he got extra cuddles.

“Be back in a second.”

I throw on shorts and go feed Bubba before letting him out into the backyard to do his business.

We slept late, so I don’t blame him for waking us up.

By the time I’ve cleaned up, Katrina is awake and making coffee, wearing one of my t-shirts that she grabbed from my semi-clean clothes hook in my room.

Bubba gets to her before I do.

“Happy birthday, Bubba!” she says.

“Oh shit, that’s today.” I usually work from home on Saturdays, but today is Bubba’s birthday event. I completely forgot with everything happening between us.

It’s in collaboration with the Jepsen Animal Shelter. The biggest goal is to get as many animals at the shelter adopted as possible, but they’re also raising donations that we’ll match. Bubba, being the Stryker Liquor brand ambassador and birthday boy, has to go.

“Yeah, I’m planning on going. I have one client this morning, though.” She straightens up and holds up a finger. “Just a second!”

She disappears for a second and returns with a blue bandanna covered in a balloon print.

“Birthday boy!” She ties the bandanna around his neck and Bubba wags his tail. “I saw it at this boutique the other day and thought it fit.”

“It’s nice. It’s the color of the Stryker Liquor logo too.” I scratch him under his chin.

“Perfect.” She gives the dog a pat on the hip. “I’m going to get dressed. See you later?”

“I’ll text you and find you, then.”

I pull her in for a kiss that quickly heats up. It reminds me of the days of making out in my shitty old apartment, just enjoying the way we feel against each other.

“We should…” She takes a deep breath after we break apart. “We should probably play it cool because my coworkers might go if it’s a big event in town.”

“Shit. Yeah.” I blow out a breath. “I’ll keep my hands to myself as much as I can.”

“Good. I will too.” She gives me one more kiss before disappearing around the corner.

I top off my coffee and go to my office. An email about Bubba’s itinerary for the day is at the top of my inbox. I’m glad they didn’t overload him with activities.

11 AM - Photos next to the adoptable animals trailer

12:30 PM - Bubba’s cake tasting and competition

1:30 PM - Dog magic show with Wes

“What the fuck is a dog magic show?” I ask myself under my breath. It’s Wes, though, so it’s going to be ridiculous.

I work for a bit longer before heading over to the open, grassy area where the annual Jepsen festival is held. Other events like this one are held here throughout the year as well.

Volunteers from the animal shelter are setting up barriers for dogs, while others are setting up a meet and greet area for cats in a trailer that they’ve parked at the edge of the lot.

A big banner with the Stryker Liquor logo in the middle, surrounded by the logos of other local businesses sponsoring the event, is next to the trailer.

“It’s the birthday boy!” Mom says when she spots us. She’s wearing a t-shirt with the most ridiculous photo of Bubba on it. He looks like he’s in the middle of an all-night bender. Below the picture it says Bubba’s Birthday Bash! “Hi, hun. Is Bubba ready for his photoshoot?”

“As ready as he’ll ever be, I guess.”

“This bandanna is too cute. Did you get this from Miss Lila’s in town?” Mom asks, straightening the fabric.

“Uh…” My brain glitches. Did Katrina say where she got this? “Yeah.”

Mom gives me a strange look, but stands up straight. I doubt she suspects anything—or would even guess why I didn’t remember.

My stomach tightens. I was so wrapped up in Katrina herself that I didn’t think about bringing her more into my life.

Mom briefly met Katrina back when we dated and liked her, but I’m not sure what she’d think of her after everything that happened.

Dad didn’t (and still doesn’t) give a shit about my social life, so he didn’t bother to show up for the dinner where he would have met her.

Yet, he decided she was a distraction without even meeting her.

They’ll have to see her eventually once Katrina feels ready, and the thought fills me with dread. But we’re taking it slow—we can talk about how to approach my family later.

“Good. I’m glad she’s still selling dog stuff. I want to get Lady something for Halloween,” she says. “By the way, put on your t-shirt.”

She hands me the t-shirt she’s wearing in my size, and I hold it up against myself.

“Do I have to wear this?” I’d have this photo as my phone lock screen any day of the week, but wearing it is a different story.

My shirts range in color from black to light gray, with one or two light blue dress shirts in there—not violently blue with my dog looking like he’s had one thought per quarter on the front.

“Yep! To show you’re part of the Stryker Liquor team.” Mom smiles and pats me on the shoulder. “Go change and find your brothers for Bubba’s photo shoot. I might see you around later, but I’ll probably be tied up in the adoption trailer all day.”

Thank god. Even if Kat and I are keeping it platonic on the surface, running into Mom when we’re so new and fragile is a loop we don’t need.

I sigh and quickly change. Bubba wags his tail as he looks at me, like he knows I’ve given in.

“You don’t care that you look ridiculous on this shirt? You aren’t at all embarrassed?” I ask him. He looks at me, his head tilted to the side. “Never mind. You don’t get embarrassed, do you?”

I pat my leg for Bubba to follow me, and I go find my brothers. They’re not hard to spot—they’re in the same blue t-shirt as I’m wearing, standing with their dogs on leashes. Duke, Waylon’s husky/lab mix, and Murphy, Wes’s pit bull mix, greet Bubba, then me in an excited flurry of wagging tails.

“Bubba is here for his photo shoot,” I say to them.

“Mom got you to wear the shirt?” Waylon asks, his eyebrows shooting up.

“It’s for the event,” I say with a sigh.

“And it’s for the company Instagram,” Wes says, snapping a picture of me with a grin.

The company Instagram has too many photos of me looking unamused, but I don’t care. “Can we get started on this?”

“Fine, be boring,” Wes says.

He guides us over to where shelter volunteers are, and we pose Bubba in front of the event backdrop. I step back and tell Bubba to stay while the photographer takes photos, making odd sounds to get Bubba to focus on him.

I check my phone again—Katrina is already here, but she can’t find me. I text her where I am.

“By the way, what’s with the dog magic show?” I ask Wes.

“Oh yeah.” Wes grins and pulls a small ball from his pocket. “Trust me, they’re going to love it.”

“All the dogs will, or just Murphy?” Murphy is sweet but he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer. He runs headfirst into their glass sliding door constantly despite Wes installing a dog door so he wouldn’t give himself a concussion every other day.

“All of them. Trust me.”

I spot Katrina way across the field and text her that I see her. She looks up, then at her phone, then spots me. Her grin is so bright we can see it from here, and I can’t help but smile a little back.

“Is that the woman you brought back to your place the other week?” Wes asks, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

I try to play it cool even though a twinge of panic pops up in the back of my head. “What are you talking about?”

“Jasper’s cousin works in that fancy restaurant downtown and saw you two together a week ago,” Wes says. “You were following her to her car when his cousin was on a smoke break.”

Jasper is one of our bartenders. I didn’t expect him to be a gossip, but since when did anything stay a secret in this town? At least this cousin of his didn’t see what else happened.

At least Wes doesn’t remember what Katrina looks like. He was pretty self-absorbed back then and probably didn’t notice or care that we were dating at all. Or maybe Jasper just left those details out of his report.

“We’re just friends,” I say.

“Friends. Right. You totally smile at women who are just friends.” Wes smirks. Thankfully Murphy gets distracted and starts eating something out of the grass. “Drop it, Murph.”