by Quinn, Taryn
“So, the present male is taking charge of our vaginas yet again.” Andi’s friend rolled her eyes. “Typical.”
I cleared my throat. “No, I think he’s got a point. Unless we all just want to sit around and drink wine—”
“Coffee,” Macy corrected as she polished the counter.
I had to smile. She never missed a trick, that one.
“We need some kind of way of keeping track in an orderly fashion. Like maybe something in Excel or hell, I don’t know. Anyone have any experience with that?”
“A database.” Murphy nodded. “Sure do. Easy enough to put together.”
My palms grew sweaty as I stroked Latte’s silky fur. Now or never, Dixon. “Maybe we can get together and work on it.”
Some of the women started to rise.
“No, no, not all of you, not yet. Murphy and I.” I cleared my throat again and sneaked a look at the man in question. “I could come over tonight?”
Whoa, bold. I was either a genius or a fool. Possibly both concurrently.
“Sure.” His lips twitched. “But don’t we need some info to compile first?”
Huh. Good point. I was obviously focused on the front end of this proposition and not so much on the back.
Unless it involved me lying on mine.
Hastily, I grabbed the notepad I’d set aside for this very task and gently nudged the dog aside so I could write. Latte slid into the space between my thigh and the chair arm and didn’t wake up, making me laugh and all the others ooh and ahh.
He was a cutie, all right. Almost as much as his owner.
I wrote my contact number on top of the notepad along with a few headings for needed information to get started with. We’d add on as we went.
Look at that, I was already thinking of this project as a we kind of thing—specifically a me and Murphy kind of thing.
“Fill out what you’re comfortable with and give it to the next person, please.” I passed the pad to the woman closest to me. “Murphy and I will set up a database and get in contact with you for our next meeting. Hopefully, we can split into smaller groups based on interest. Exploration vs. needing help finding a prospect vs. just gathering information for the future. It would be nice if there was a way that we could match people with interested guys, assuming there are any.”
“Pretty sure we have one right in our midst.” One of the women in back laughed behind her hand.
“Murphy’s just here to help. Practice on someone else.” I flashed a quick smile. “But that’s down the line. First, we’ll try to set up a few smaller groups. Leave your email addresses and I’ll contact everyone when we have another date to get together.”
“And possibly somewhere else you will be meeting.” Macy delivered refills to a couple of people and shot me a smile of her own. It was as sincere as mine had been. “Just saying.”
That was a worry for another day.
I tucked Latte against my hip as he started to stir and rose to my feet. “Thanks for coming, everyone. Maybe we can find a way for this to be beneficial for all of us.” I glanced at Murphy and my smile grew. “Thanks for your help.”
“Anytime.” He nodded at Latte. “Looks like you have a friend for life.”
“We’re buds.” I lifted him to my face and kissed his wet little nose, laughing as he lapped at my face. “Best buds, right?”
Murphy slipped his hands in his pockets. “I better take him with me. Since food and all.”
“Oh, I can watch him for a while. We’ll be meeting in a—”
“Vee.”
I sighed as Macy’s voice intruded into my happy puppy bubble. Reluctantly, I handed the puppy back to Murphy. Latte looked at me forlornly, but he quickly scrabbled up Murphy’s sweatshirt to snuggle up in the hood scrunched behind his neck.
Murphy let out a wry laugh as he tried to crane his neck to look at the puppy, and I swear, my already compromised ovaries made themselves known.
And how.
This guy was father material. Forget that, he was excellent boyfriend material. One of the good ones. I’d stake my blueberry tarts on it.
And I didn’t want to wait for someone else to figure that out before I’d had my chance.
“Thanks again. Truly. You don’t know how much you helped.”
“No problem.” He slid a glance at the chattering women. “It was fun.”
I laughed. “Sure it was. I’ll see you in a couple hours? I want to help out here for a bit since I created some chaos with this meeting.”
“No problem. I’ll make dinner. So, bring your appetite.”
I watched him walk out with the puppy snuggled in the folds of his hood. No problem there. No sirree.
“He didn’t even buy anything,” Macy said with disgust as she crossed through the passthrough to head into the back room. “Am I running a business or a damn charity here? Sometimes I don’t know.”
A minute later, she poked her head back out. “Vee? We’re low on petit fours again.”
Because the women I’d met with had cleared her out. It had been a good night for Macy too, no matter how she groused.
“Coming.” I said some quick goodbyes to the women and grabbed an apron so I could get to work.
If luck was on my side, maybe coming was in my sorta near future after all, and not from cyber—
Oh, fuck. I dropped my apron and fumbled out the phone I hadn’t touched in forever. I owed Cabin Fortress a note.
And an apology.
But I couldn’t tell him about Murphy. Not yet. Nothing had happened, not really. I liked them both.
So much.
As an idea formed, my thumbs blurred over the keys. Perhaps after this note, Cabin Fortress would make my decision for me. This would prove how committed he was to getting to know me.
Let the baby daddies fall where they may.
Nine
Dearest Fortress, I have to say your note was very stimulating. I also like sturdy surfaces. But I forgot to tell you I also really like beds. My bed is piled high with stuffed animals and pillows. I can’t have sexy times without lots of pillows around me and under me. I’m petite, and I think it’s a security thing. Also, I always have to bring my bear with me. Sir Mix A Lot has been with me since childhood. You don’t mind if I bring him along the first time we get freaky, do you? He won’t be participating. Unless that’s your kink. Haha. Still yours, Vee
“What in the hell?”
The dog barked as if answering me.
I shoved my phone back into my pocket before I scooped my new charge off his current favorite perch. When we were in the truck, he liked to sit on my shoulder and watch the world go by out the window. I couldn’t say I hated it. And I was getting used to him a little too easily.
I gathered all my purchases and muscled my way into the cabin with a dog trying to burrow into my shoulder, enough bags to cut off my circulation, and two different Veronica personalities swimming in my head. I was officially going insane.
And what the hell was I supposed to do with this new note from Veronica?
I mean, what in the hell? A bear?
I dumped the bags on my table and retrieved my phone again. I reread it, making sure I hadn’t misconstrued anything.
Nope. She’d actually said she liked to bring a security bear with her.
And freaky? She hadn’t spoken like that in all the nights we’d talked online.
I mean, yeah, we were getting hotter around the edges with each conversation, but for fuck’s sake. That was some weird shit. And nearly a Jekyll and Hyde situation compared to how she talked to me at the café.
On the last few visits for my daily caffeine intake, she’d been almost manic. That was partly why I’d skipped visiting the café for a couple days.
Today? That was more like how we used to act around one another. Polite with a hint of maybe more than polite.
But she’d looked up at me with those bright green eyes with excitement about her little project while cuddling the freaking do
g—Latte, his name was Latte now—and how could I tell her no?
To anything.
I was doomed. And still had ended up with a dog somehow. It had broken my heart to drop off the rest of them at the shelter, but since they were tiny and the hypoallergenic kind, they had a waiting list for them. I knew they were all going to a good home.
And thankfully, they were all healthy regardless of the asshat who’d put them in a box and left them to die. Fucking heartless humans. Why I liked spending as little time with them as possible. I got most of the peopling I needed out of working with Gideon.
I was perfectly happy to be a freaking hermit. Especially if a certain baker might want to hermit with me. Maybe.
If I didn’t totally fuck everything up.
At least I’d cut down on Veronica’s trouble factor with Macy. Macy had been at the end of her rope with the group of women taking over half the café. Adding in a dog to the melee wasn’t happening beyond the meeting. Even that had been pushing it. Though I figured Veronica could work around that easily enough.
“But for now, it’s just you and me, bud.” I tucked him into the hood of my sweatshirt as I did a quick and dirty clean-up of my house.
I lived alone and kept pretty tidy, but I forgot to do things like dust and vacuum.
Latte snoozed behind me, occasionally licking the back of my neck for me to reach around and give him a scratch. Other than that, he was content to just chill out while I took care of the domestic shit I’d neglected.
I set my pressure cooker up with a warm and hearty chicken stew. It was probably a little unfair to use my online Vee knowledge to impress her today. And dangerous because what the hell would I do if I screwed up and said something Fortress would know, but not me?
Lies, Masterson. All of it was lies, no matter how you sliced it.
Oh, speaking of slice. I rushed over to the bag of groceries I’d picked up on the way home. I took out the fresh loaf of French bread and sliced it, wrapped it, and put it in the oven to warm up.
I tucked the four-pack of mini cheesecakes I’d bought into the fridge—I should’ve gotten some of Veronica’s creations instead—then whipped up some fresh whipped cream while the pressure cooker did its thing.
One of the few things I could do was make a decent meal, thanks to my mama. She wouldn’t allow her boys to be useless in the kitchen. And having a cabin on the lake meant going to get fast food all the time was close to impossible.
So, I could cook. Passably anyway. I didn’t have Vee’s grace with the sugary end of the spectrum, but I could make a damn good whipped cream to add to some fruit toppings.
A little head peeked over my shoulder. “Like strawberries, Latte?”
I frowned. Was a dog allowed to have strawberries?
I Googled and fell down a rabbit hole of dog owner woes and scare tactics as Latte and I shared half a dozen strawberries. They were on the okay list for dogs, thank you.
Grapes, however, that was a hell no. Especially with the size of my dog.
Our dog? Huh. I didn’t know how to work that.
Pretty much like a baby would work with her current plan of attack. Joint custody if both of us were in agreement. Christ.
I didn’t want joint anything. Well, okay, that was a lie. I wanted us joined at the hip as much as humanly possible. What I didn’t want was just to be her babymaker. I already wanted more.
And that was where things were getting really murky.
I liked her too much and she didn’t even know who the hell I really was.
I collapsed into my desk chair with Latte burrowing back into his hood bed now that his insanely tiny belly was full. Man, should I have even gone with strawberries? The vet at the shelter wasn’t even sure how old the puppies were.
Barely weaned off their mama was all he could guess.
I guess I’d find out when he shits seeds like a machine gun or projectile vomited before digestion happened.
Fun.
I did a few more searches about what puppies should and shouldn’t eat between trying to formulate a response to my Sir Mix A Lot problem.
We all had our kinks, but that seemed especially precious for Veronica. She had a sense of whimsy to her, considering the multi-color hair she had going on. But a teddy bear that had to accompany her on date night?
Or whatever we wanted to call a hookup?
Hmm.
I started to reply, then wandered off when the pressure cooker beeped that it was ready and finished decompressing. I turned on some music while I made gravy and made sure the veggies weren’t mush.
My alarm buzzed on my watch reminding me I had fifteen minutes before she was due to arrive.
“Ready for some food, pal?”
My hood wiggled with Latte’s furious tail wag. I laughed and scooped him out of the hood to set him down with his puppy-prescribed food. Which was precisely a thimbleful for such a little guy.
He wolfed it down and whined for me to settle him back into my hood.
My doorbell rang and I swore. “She’s early, dammit.”
I rushed around to make sure nothing would burn and cursed because I hadn’t gotten to wash up yet. My online search down the puppy-problems-and-feeding rabbit hole had officially eaten way too much of my time.
I washed my hands, dried them, and tucked my towel into my belt on my way to the door. I swung it open and smiled, swallowing down my nerves. “Hey.”
“This is your place? It’s incredible. I thought I was going to drive forever to get up your driveway.” She didn’t wait for me to move out of the way, simply marched in with the scent of vanilla and sugar in her wake.
“You’re early.”
“Oh, right. Sorry about that. I’m perpetually early. Better than being late though, right?”
Latte perked up at the sound of her voice and tried to climb off me to get to her. “Okay, okay. Hang on a second, bud. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
She turned back to me with her eyes shining again just as they did a few hours ago. “Oh, he missed me.” She rushed over and laid a hand gently on my chest as she went onto her toes, then plucked the puppy out of my hands. “I’ll take him.”
That was a totally unnecessary touch and now I was even more confused. She was just here for database help, right?
Though she had volunteered to stop by tonight. Was she sending signals I was just too thick to get?
“Aren’t you just the cutest little boy in all the world?” she crooned to him as she wandered into my living room. “My goodness, Murphy. This is quite the house. When you said you had a cabin by the lake, I was expecting something a lot more rustic.”
I looked around at my space, taking in the vaulted A-line ceiling and nearly floor to ceiling windows that looked out on the lake. “It is a cabin.”
“This is a luxury cabin at best. It’s incredible. And you built it your— Oh my God, that kitchen.” She cradled the dog against her chest and twirled around my large farmhouse kitchen. She set the dog down and swiped her hand along the floor. “Cork,” she said reverently.
Right then, I was very glad I’d hit it with a mop after I vacuumed.
The dog trotted after her with adoration hearts popping out of his eyeballs. Considering I knew that look, I didn’t blame him. I probably wore the same expression on my face most of the time. She quickly moved to the big sink and washed her hands then trailed her fingertips along the granite counters and over my small appliances.
“You have everything.”
I shrugged and crossed my arms before leaning my hip on the kitchen island. “I like to cook.”
“And it smells amazing.” She turned to the pressure cooker, which was now on its slow cooker setting. The steam rose up and floated around her. She closed her eyes and drew in the aromas. “Wow. May I?” She lifted the spoon on the rest.
“Sure.”
She dipped it in and took a taste before twirling around to me again, cupping her hand under the spoon as she held it up for me.
“You gotta taste this.”
“I cooked it.” But I grinned down at her.
“That’s true. But I bet it tastes even better now.” She blew on the spoon. “Come on.”
I leaned down and sampled it, watching her face the entire time. I dribbled a bit and she laughed.
She didn’t even hesitate, just swiped her thumb over my chin and brought the bit of gravy to her lips. “So good.” A little wrinkle formed between her eyes. “So, you build stuff, and you can make a database? And you cook?”
I rolled my lower lip behind my teeth. I shrugged.
Be cool.
Don’t start to sweat.
“I’m trying to get into smart houses. Takes a little bit of everything to do that.”
“Oh.” Her forehead smoothed. “Well, that’s a little bit more than the average handyman.” She looked up at the vaulted ceilings of my cabin. “I guess you’d have to be to afford all this.”
I shrugged. “I do okay.”
“I’ll say.”
I needed to veer her away from this line of conversation. “Speaking of dinner, I even have fresh bread from the market bakery too. I didn’t have time to bake some myself.”
“You do not bake bread.”
“I like the rustic kind that you eat with stew or soup, but yeah.”
“We’re totally doing that one snowy night.”
I swallowed. She was thinking about more than today. More than me just helping her out.
I wasn’t great with signals, but even I was starting to pick up some now.
“I can’t believe you did all this anyway. Especially after I’m asking you for a favor. That doesn’t seem right.”
“I don’t mind. I don’t get to cook for people too often.” I looked down at my feet before I did something stupid like lower my lips to hers.
“Well, all I do is cook—well, bake—for people. So, this is really nice. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She took a step back and washed the spoon before laying it back down next to my Ninja Pot. Latte decided he’d been ignored long enough and started dancing around in circles.