Page 15 of Ready, Willing and Abel (Dog Tags #6)
ASTRID
On tonight’s edition of Art or Fraud? we investigate this painting, found in a bunker in France. Is it a lost masterpiece of Monet or a brilliant forgery?
I snuggle deeper into the chair cushions, my eyes glued to the television.
Garnet, my Bernese Mountain Dog/Golden Retriever mix is sleeping soundly in the adjacent chair.
Garnet and I rent a room from Daisy Stonefield, who runs a boarding house in Saddle Creek.
At least, she calls it a boarding house, even though she only rents out one room and that’s to me.
Her house is a huge, gorgeous Victorian mansion and, honestly, I think she just gets lonely since the house is so big and her only relative is a good for nothing grandson who never comes to visit.
Though I rent a single upstairs bedroom for Garnet and me, Daisy pretty much gives us free range of the house. And since I don’t have a TV in my bedroom, Garnet and I watch TV in the living room. Her snores fade into the background as I get lost in this episode.
I’ve just settled down with my second mug of hot tea when I hear a strange rattling noise coming from the parlor, which is what Daisy calls the fancy living room at the front of the house.
I look over at Garnet, who is now laying belly up with her legs in the air.
Her tongue is practically lolling out of her mouth with every breath.
The noise sounds again, this time even louder. It sounds like someone is trying to open one of the windows.
Which can’t be right, because Saddle Creek is a very safe place to live.
On the other hand, Daisy and I are two women living alone. And the town square, with its myriad bars and restaurants, is only a block or two away. While I don’t think I’m in actual danger, I’m not just going to let some drunken fool break in.
I poke Garnet in the ribs. She snuffles and immediately falls back asleep.
“Some protector you are,” I hiss at my dog. She doesn’t even twitch.
I search the room for a weapon of sorts and grab the first thing of substance I see, one of Garnet’s toys, an enormous, bright pink, rubber chew stick, nearly two feet long and covered in nubby spikes.
I wield it like a bat and go in search of the noise.
It doesn’t take me long as it’s coming from the parlor’s window.
The window that is now open, what I know to be a faded blue gingham curtain blows in the midnight breeze.
It’s then that I see the outline of the intruder. Wearing all black like an actual criminal. I rear back and whack him over the head. Once, twice… then his arms are up blocking my progress.
“What the fuck? Stop hitting me.” It’s a man’s voice.
“I will not. You broke into this house. I’m going to incapacitate you, then call the police.”
“For fuck’s sake, this is my house,” he growls.
Something in that deep, rumbly voice is appealing, but that makes zero sense considering this man is a common criminal. I lift my weapon to smack him again, but suddenly light floods the room.
The man stands by the switch, which he obviously knew the location of. In the light, his all-black garb looks less cat burglar and more sexy bad boy.
No! Bad Astrid, there is nothing sexy about this cretin. I raise my weapon again.
His eyes follow my movement. “Is that a sex toy?” One brow arches.
I gasp and look up at my hands. “Of course not! This is a dog toy. MY dog’s toy.”
He smirks. “Pretty sure that’s a sex toy.”
“Stop saying that. It’s not a sex toy. I don’t even own any—not that that is any of your business.” I brace my feet and pull back my dog toy/bat threateningly. “State your purpose, sir, before I call the police.”
He walks towards me, his eyes raking over my form, and it’s then that I remember what I’m wearing. My “Geology Rocks” tank top and some Flintstones panties.
“You’re adorable.” He gives me a crooked grin that is obviously practiced and used to manipulate unsuspecting insomniac science nerds. “Who are you, and what are you doing in my Me-Maw’s house?”
“What is all the ruckus down here?” Daisy asks. My older landlady is wearing her housecoat and mismatched slippers. She sees the man across from me and her whole face changes. “Well, look what the dirty old cat dragged in. Get over here and give me a hug, boy!”
I turn back to the man and he’s smiling at Daisy with so much affection, it knots my throat.
They embrace and I’m left standing there—still in my panties—holding my dog’s sex toy.
“Astrid, honey, this is my grandson, Micah.”
I look at the man, standing next to his grandmother and making her look shorter than normal.
“Is there a reason why you didn’t use the front door?” I ask him. I turn to Daisy. “I thought he was an intruder and I tried to accost him.”
Daisy snorts. “Thank you for trying to protect me, honey.”
It’s then that Garnet decides to wake up and come investigate the noise. She sniffs Micah’s black-jean-clad legs, then walks over, pulls her toy from my hands and lays on my feet, gently gumming in.
“See?” I meet Micah’s gaze. “Dog toy.”
“Sure sweets, whatever you want to call it.”
I roll my eyes, then walk to Daisy and kiss her cheek. “I’m going back to bed. Sorry for the trouble.”
I do my best to ignore the fact that my big booty cheeks are hanging out of the bottom of my dumb panties. But Mr. Tall, Dark and Way Too Hot for me probably isn’t even looking. Which is obviously what I want.
I definitely don’t want him checking me out.
Not that there is anything check-out-worthy about me.
I mean I’m not a troll, but I’m not one of those pretty girls that bothers too much with her appearance.
It doesn’t make any sense to put on a bunch of make-up if I’m just going to sweat it off in the hot sun while I dig up rocks.
Of course I could try while I’m working at the bookstore. But will I? Probably not.