Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
Must love dogs.
Must have his own money, not mooch off of mine.
Not live with his parents; kind of coincides with rule number two.
He can’t staunch my independence.
Must give as good as he receives in the orgasm department.
“Fine, I’ll call him after girls’ day. Enough about me. I want to know what’s new in your life.” I may have a flare for the dramatics, but one thing I’m not is self-centered, and I love hearing about the latest shenanigans they have going on.
TWELVE
Madden
My phone has been ringing non-stop today. After taking yesterday and most of the week off, it seems like today was the day everyone and everybody needed a piece of me. At least I was able to work from home instead of putting on a suit and tie to go into the office. I’d like to say my company is relaxed in the way of attire, and it was, until too many people took advantage of the leniency. Some going as far as to wear pajamas and slippers into the office while meetings were being conducted. That put an end to it immediately. The shit situation is that now I have to look like the man in charge even if I’m only going to the office to take care of a file that only takes minutes.
There’s finally a break in calls and emails. I’m about to take Cooper outside to do his business, having to walk with him so he doesn’t attempt to go for an afternoon swim. This keeping Coop home and lazy this week is not easy, especially when we’re both used to coming and going when work doesn’t get in the way. The cone of shame is still firmly in place, except for feeding time, and even then, if you don’t put it right back on, he’s licking the wound at a rapid-fire pace.
“Fucking A,” I mutter, hearing my phone ring again while I’m outside with Cooper, breaking my rule of keeping the back door closed when we’re in the backyard. I’m only doing it while Coop’s stitches recover. “Come on, boy. Who knows who needs me now,” I try to hurry his business along. The way he looks back, white cone shielding most of his big ole head, his eyes says it all, ‘Yeah right, asshole. I don’t see you hurrying taking a piss.’ The dog has me wrapped around his damn paw. He’s lucky I like him.
“Come on, you want a treat?” We’ve been on a kick lately. When he does well and listens, he gets a treat. The reward system seems to be working. With any luck, it’ll stick. “Finally, he finishes.” Cooper comes trotting his silly little ass my way, a treat already in my hand, like some old grandpa who always has a piece of candy to hand out to whoever wants one.
We walk back into the house after he had his small treat. I make sure to shut the door, and my phone is once again ringing. I swipe it off the back of the couch I was sitting on when I watched television during a break from the office work.
“Hello.” My voice is brisk, full of annoyance because whoever called minutes ago hung up and started calling all over again.
“Who pissed in your cheerios?” If the voice were masculine, I would have sworn it was Forest calling. As it is, the tone on the other end of the line is softer, feminine with a sarcastic edge that is all Hendrix.
“It took you long enough to call. Have to work up the courage, Hendrix?”
“Well, I wouldn’t need to call or speak to you ever again if you’d have kept your nose out of my business. Did you think I couldn’t afford my vet bill? That I need or want a man to pay my bills? A simple apology would have worked.” This woman, she’s fired up, and I can tell by the two questions alone that she has been worked over before in the relationship department.
“A simple apology would work if you didn’t run every chance you get, and no, I don’t think you can’t pay your bills, or you wouldn’t have been in the same vet office. But since I can’t seem to get it through your head that I’m sorry for my dog acting like a fool or for slamming into you with a cup of coffee in your hand, you didn’t give me much of a choice. Not that I’d change that; got the show of my life with your sweet-as-fuck body pressed against me. No way am I sorry for that moment. The rest, yes. I am sorry, honestly. I’ve never owned a dog before. There’ve been some learning curves, and unfortunately, he was neglected most of his life and is still learning how to find his way.” This time, it’s me who’s annoyed, ready to get off the fucking phone and get a moment of peace.