The Foxe & the Hound

by R.S. Grey

Oh sweet Jesus.

  Adam: Oh, and Mouse is invited too.

  “Ha!” Daisy shouts just as she tears my phone out of my hand. She also takes the top layer of skin off my thumb. Very polite.

  “Have you ever heard of a little privacy?!” I shout, but it’s no use. She’s already reading our text exchange, no doubt inserting feelings and double meanings where none belong.

  “Did he ask you out on a surprise date or something?” she asks, tossing me back my phone once she’s finished.

  I shouldn’t reward her terrible best friend behavior, but there’s no point in being stubborn. Daisy will wear me down eventually, just like she did with my brother.

  “No, as a matter of fact, it’s not a date.”

  “So…you two are hanging out as friends?”

  I narrow my gaze on her, taking in her perfect skin and bright blonde hair. Sure, now she’s in pajamas, but normally she’s put together in fancy business clothes underneath her crisp white coat. Daisy has her life together. She’s a doctor and she’s married. She has her own house, and pretty soon she’ll probably start popping out my nieces and nephews. It’s because of this that I can’t tell her the honest truth—that I, Madeleine Thatcher, have hit an all-new low. I am all but prostituting myself in the name of real estate. Daisy won’t understand. She’ll tell me to quit, to get a new job. She thinks I’m talented and “going places”. She doesn’t seem to understand that the only place I’m headed is the poorhouse if I don’t earn a commission soon.

  “It’s nothing,” I say, standing and finding Mouse’s leash. “Can we just drop it?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  I’m surprised she’s willing to cooperate—my expression must look particularly desperate. On my way to the door, she can’t help but ask one more time, “You’d tell me if it was a date, right?”

  Fortunately, she can’t see me pinch my eyes closed in distress. “It’s definitely not a date.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  MADELEINE

  At 11:25 AM the next morning, I’m standing on the curb outside my apartment, waiting for Adam. I’ve selected a pair of worn jeans that are flattering, but not too nice, and a white blouse I can easily swap out for the vintage t-shirt I packed if we end up knee-deep in some sort of bovine-birthing activity. Mouse is lounging at my feet, the brown, black, and white pattern of fur on his face even more cute than usual thanks to the brushing I gave him this morning. He’s grown in the last few days, already surpassing the size of a large Labrador. I resist the urge to give in to my anxiety about his size and instead do an inventory of the tote bag hanging on my shoulder. I’ve come prepared for whatever the day will bring. Inside, I’ve packed one Tupperware full of homemade oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, a water bottle, my vintage t-shirt, sneakers, a few granola bars, a rain jacket, and treats for Mouse. It’s nearly filled to max capacity, but I have no other choice. I still don’t actually know where Adam is dragging me, and I wanted to come prepared for any situation.

  I’m actively debating breaking into the cookies early when a black, sporty Audi pulls up to the curb and draws my attention. I spot Adam behind the sleek tinted windows and can’t help but laugh. He’s definitely not from Texas. If he were, he’d be driving a truck or some kind of rugged SUV. This shiny thing looks expensive and easy to destroy, and I know Mouse will make short work of it.

  “Morning,” he says, sliding out of the driver’s seat and rounding the back of the car.

  Mouse leaps to his feet and goes wild, but Adam uses his authoritative tone and instructs him to sit before getting close enough to pet him. Mouse responds to his command, but his whole body still shakes with excitement as he sits, patiently waiting. As Adam pets Mouse, I take a step closer to his car and inspect the pristine the interior. Everything is clean and gleaming; it looks like he just got it detailed this week.

  “We should take my car,” I declare, stepping back before the intoxicating concept of plush leather and power-lock windows can draw me in.

  “What? Why?” He pushes to stand and I turn.

  It’s then that I realize he’s dressed in a pair of jeans, brown leather boots, and a gray long-sleeved t-shirt pushed up to his elbows. The material is thick and well-made. He looks adorable with his tousled brown hair and bright green eyes. I swear he’s even a little tanner than the last time I saw him, not to mention his bone structure; it’s strong and intimidating, the stuff dreams are made of.

  While all of that might have been important if we were going on a date, the only thing I truly care about is that he’s not dressed for manual labor. I take that as a good sign.

  “Why should we take your car?” he asks again, snapping my attention away from his clean-shaven jaw.

  “Oh.” I point to my old clunker parked a few spots away, glistening like a murky, chipped diamond in the sunlight. “Because Mouse is a terror and I would hate for him to ruin your upholstery or get hair everywhere.”

  Adam shrugs. “I really don’t mind.”

  I look down at Mouse and see a hint of mischief in his light brown eyes.

  “Yeah, still, it’s probably for the best.”

  I instruct Adam to take the free parking spot beside mine and then we’re both sliding into my car at the same time. I try to see the car through his eyes. He just stepped out of the latest and greatest Audi on the market, and my upholstery is thin and ripped in a few spots. The air conditioning craps out every now and then, and a few buttons on the dashboard have disappeared in the last month or so, thanks to Mouse. Then there’s the lovely sound it makes as I try to start her up.

  “Bad starter,” I say with a weak smile.

  He frowns. “Are you sure?”

  No, I’m not sure. I haven’t taken it in to a mechanic because that is something that people with money do. For now, I pretend it’s just a bad starter and go about my day blissfully ignorant.

  After an awkward number of attempts and failures, it finally jumps to life and I toss Adam another smile. “See? She’s just a little stubborn.”

  He hums, too gentlemanly to argue with me.

  I hear rustling in the back seat and turn to see Mouse with his snout stuck halfway into my tote bag.

  “No! Mouse, those aren’t for you!” I snap, reaching back for the bag.

  “Did you pack food?” he asks before the bag comes into full view and his eyes widen. “Correction, did you pack your entire pantry?”

  I blush and try to hide it. “No, just a few necessities.”

  He relieves me of the bag and stows it on the floorboard at his feet. The oatmeal chocolate chip cookies are poking out right up top and he notices them right away.

  “Cookies?”

  “Homemade cookies,” I correct, putting the car in reverse. “Where should I head?”

  He points out to the left. “Toward town. Why’d you pack cookies?”

  “Because you wouldn’t tell me what we were doing, and I wanted to be prepared for anything.”

  “In what situation exactly would you need homemade cookies?”

  I frown. “Au contraire—you tell me one situation that isn’t made better by cookies. Besides, there’s other stuff in there too. Sneakers and a t-shirt, that sort of thing.”

  “I like what you have on.”

  It’s a nice thing for him to say. The white blouse belongs to Daisy, and her chest is a little smaller than mine so I wasn’t sure if I could pull it off as well as she does.

  “Why do you have gardening gloves in here?”

  I was too focused on driving to notice him rifling through the bag.

  “Oh, yeah, those are for the calf-birthing.”

  “The what?”

  I laugh. “Like I said, I wanted to be prepared.”

  “We’re just going to my family’s barbecue.”

  I swerve into oncoming traffic and Mouse flies across the back seat just as a passing car lays on their horn. I straighten out the wheel and return to my lane. When there’s a clearing, I pull off to the side of th
e road.

  With the car in park, I turn to Adam to find him eyeing me warily.

  “We’re going where?!”

  He holds up his hands in defense. “Just a small barbecue, nothing serious.”

  “No. No. A family barbecue is serious! This was not part of the deal.”

  He tips his head and smiles. It’s adorable, but I refuse to notice. “Technically, you agreed to do anything I needed you to do.”

  “That’s when I thought you’d be asking me for a lung or something!”

  “So you were prepared to donate an organ, but a family barbecue is suddenly too much pressure?”

  He’s mocking me.

  I narrow my eyes. “Don’t try to be cute.”

  He rakes a hand through his hair and turns his green gaze on me. I feel it melting my cold, hardened heart even as I try to resist. “My mom insisted I show up with a date. She can be…persistent, and I thought it would be easier to give in than to keep trying to fend her off.”

  My knuckles have turned white on the steering wheel. My heart is still hammering in my chest.

  “So then why didn’t you bring a date?”

  “I did,” he replies, very matter-of-fact.

  I snort. “No. You could have asked any female in Hamilton, literally any one of them, and they would have gone with you.”

  “Well, I asked you.”

  I work up the courage to look at him, and I realize the mistake quickly. In my small car, he’s too close to me. I can smell his body wash—mountain fresh. I can see the dark green circle that rims his irises. I can almost pretend he’s a living, breathing human and not a robot cyborg programmed to rescue puppies and make women swoon.

  “You didn’t ask me, you presented a proposition I couldn’t refuse.”

  He scrunches his brows in thought. “I thought it was sort of the same thing.”

  My head falls against my seat and I pinch my eyes closed. “They’re going to ask us questions and it’s going to become glaringly obvious how little we know about each other.”

  “We know enough.”

  He sounds so confident, so prepared to follow through with the ruse.

  “Okay, well did you let them know that I have a child?”

  “What?!”

  “See?!” I say, turning to face him. “You believed that because you hardly know me!”

  He laughs then. It starts out slow, just a smile stretching across his face, and then his head is thrown back against the seat and he’s laughing hard, pressing his hand to his chest. I sit in silence, watching him, helpless to prevent a matching smile from developing on my lips.

  “You think this is all some kind of game, don’t you?”

  When he can finally catch his breath, he replies, “It can be if we let it.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “C’mon,” he continues. “It’s just an hour or two spent in the company of nice strangers. At the very least, you’ll get a good meal out of it.”

  “And the commission from selling you a house,” I point out, trying to read how serious he is about holding up his end of the bargain.

  He nods in confirmation. “And that.”

  I sigh and put the car back in drive, slowly merging with traffic. He directs me toward his brother’s house in downtown Hamilton and just before we park, I smile at my preparedness.

  “By the way, this is the perfect situation for homemade cookies.”

  …

  We decide it’s best if I walk in with the cookies and Adam takes charge of Mouse. I’ve been practicing walking him with the clicker, but he’s too excited by the prospect of being in a new place to heed his new training. I step out of the car and straighten my blouse, trying to surreptitiously inspect his brother’s house without being obvious.

  It’s a large two-story ranch-style home on a large lot. There are old, massive oak trees scattered around the front yard, and a boxwood wreath hangs on the front door. As we head up the path, I can hear voices filtering out from the back yard, and the front door is whipped open before we even get the chance to knock.

  A fashionable older woman stands in the doorway wearing a sleeveless pink sundress paired with a colorful spring scarf. Her fingers are covered in rings, and gold bracelets clink on her wrist as she raises her hand to wave us inside.

  “Come in, come in. You two are just in time!”

  I smile and step into the house, grateful when Adam introduces me quickly.

  “Mom, this is Madeleine, the woman I told you about.”

  The woman I told you about?

  My eyebrows betray my shock before I realize his mom is watching me. I quickly replace my expression with a smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Foxe.”

  I hold out my hand, but she pulls me in for a quick hug instead. When she’s done, she holds me out at arm’s length and beams. “You can call me Diane.”

  “Oh.” I smile. “Of course.”

  “You’re quite a stunner,” she says, glancing down my outfit. “And I love what you’re wearing.” I should feel uncomfortable, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been objectified like that and I’m more than happy to accept the compliment.

  “Thank you. I hope I’m dressed okay. I wasn’t sure what I was in store for.”

  It’s the understatement of the century, but Diane doesn’t know that, up until a few minutes ago, I thought I was going to be part of some kind of illuminati sacrifice ritual.

  She waves away my concern and locks her elbow with mine, dragging me out of the entryway.

  “And you brought cookies?” she asks, eyeing the Tupperware in my hand.

  “Freshly baked this morning,” I brag.

  She turns over her shoulder to Adam, who’s following us into the house with Mouse by his side. “I love her already!”

  I bask in her praise. After the months from hell I’ve had recently, this is a much-needed reprieve. Hell, if all else fails, maybe I’ll date Adam’s mom?

  She continues leading me through the house, pointing out rooms as we pass them. We eventually make it to the kitchen and she releases me so she can take the cookies and display them artfully on a platter. I’m happy I had the forethought to add extra chocolate chips. They’ll be a hit for sure.

  “I’ve met Beauty, now who’s this beast?” Diane asks, finally acknowledging Mouse, who is (thankfully) sitting at Adam’s side. If I had control of his leash, he’d be jumping all over, trying desperately to get Diane’s attention.

  “This is Madeleine’s dog, Mouse,” Adam supplies, reaching down to scratch behind his ears. Mouse looks up at him affectionately and for a second, I forget that this is all a game of make-believe.

  “Adam said it would be okay if we brought him,” I say, laying the blame on him just in case.

  “Of course. We’re dog people!”

  She steps closer to pet him and I feel I owe her a warning. “Oh! He just started puppy training, so he doesn’t have all of his manners down pat quite yet.”

  As if on cue, he jumps up to lick her face. Diane laughs and bends down to get on his level, and Mouse naturally takes full advantage of this unwise move. He launches a slobber assault on her and I cringe, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

  “I used to have a Bernese when I was younger,” she says wistfully.

  “You did?” Adam asks before I can.

  She nods and rubs Mouse’s ears. “She looked just like this when she was a puppy. Such a good dog.”

  After Mouse has had enough pets to last him a lifetime, the voices outside catch Diane’s attention.

  “Oh, we should head out. Everyone will want to meet Madeleine and Mouse.”

  My stomach churns at the idea of meeting more family members, but then I remind myself that this doesn’t matter. There’s no pressure to impress anyone. I can be myself and relax, eat as much barbecue as the button on these jeans will allow.

  “Do you want some wine before we head out, Madeleine?”

  It’s early afternoon, but Diane already h
as a glass, so I don’t hesitate. “I’d love some.”

  With wine in my hand and a beer in Adam’s, the three of us head out into the back yard. Fortunately, my fear isn’t realized—it’s not filled to the brim with family members. It’s an intimate group, just a couple sitting near a grill and two little brunette girls jumping on a trampoline. They look to be the exact same age, and even from a distance, it’s not hard to confirm that they’re twins.

  “Those are my nieces,” Adam fills in. “Allie and Payton.”

  “ADAM!” they squeal in unison, clamoring to get off the trampoline and run to hug their uncle. It’s an adorable sight, and then they pull back and look from me to Mouse, unsure of who they want to attack first.

  The dog wins out, and I don’t really blame them. Mouse is pretty cute.

  “A dog!” one of them exclaims.

  “Can we pet him?” the other begs, her hands clasped in prayer. “Oh please! Can we pet him?”

  “You’ll have to ask Madeleine,” Adam says, pointing to me.

  They turn their gazes on me and I find green eyes the same shade as Adam’s staring up at me from pudgy-cheeked faces.

  “Madeleine, may we please pet him?!”

  I smile and nod. “Of course, but be careful. He gets really excited and I don’t want him to accidentally hurt you.”

  They stop listening to me after ‘of course’, but Adam has enough sense to make sure nothing happens. After they’ve made their short introductions, he finally unleashes Mouse and the dog takes off, running around the massive back yard like a bat out of hell. The girls squeal and run after him, and it’s hard to tell who is more entertained by the game, the girls or Mouse.

  “Well, I think we’ve found a way to keep the girls occupied for the next few hours,” Adam says, glancing over to me with a smile.

  “Madeleine!” Diane calls from near the grill. “Come meet Kathy and Samuel!”

  I look to Adam for backup as we head over and he steps closer, placing a possessive hand around my shoulders. It’s the first time he’s touched me. I’m hyperaware of that fact, and though my first instinct is to pull away, I don’t. Instead, I settle into the closeness as he tucks me into his side. He has just enough height on me that we fit perfectly. I feel small and delicate, cherished.