Wet and Reckless (Private Pleasures 4)

Roxy kept Lucky in her arms and lowered to her knees. “I found him behind Rawley’s a few nights ago. It’s okay to pet him while I’m holding him, but he’s been through a rough time, so let’s give him a chance to get used to you before I put him down, okay?”

The girls

nodded and proceeded to fuss over the dog while it soaked up the attention. Within minutes, Lucky was belly up on the rug, tongue out and eyes rolling, offering himself to little hands that scratched, petted, and massaged him into doggie nirvana.

“What kind is he?” Faith asked, scratching around Lucky’s ears.

“According to the vet,” Roxy said, “he’s a mix of a bunch of things, like Pug and maybe a French Bulldog.”

Hope laughed. “He’s a Frug!”

“He’s definitely Frugly,” West said.

“Oh, don’t you listen to him,” Roxy coo’d to the dog. “You’re the most handsome—oh no, sweetie,” she said to Gracie. “Don’t pet his eyes.”

A knock at Roxy’s outside door interrupted the lovefest. West made a move to answer, but Roxy stood first and opened the door to admit the girls’ mother. “Hey, Belinda, how’d the appointment go?”

Though Melody was the beauty queen, Belinda shared her younger sister’s blond good looks. Today she seemed to have an extra glow. “Really well. Ellie confirmed what Ben and I already suspected.” She touched a hand to her stomach. “Baby number four is baking away.”

Congratulations rose to the tip of West’s tongue, but Hope burst into tears. “Nooooo. N-n-not an-noth-errr b-baby!”

Faith and Gracie looked at their sister like she’d lost her mind. Hope sobbed dramatically and hugged Lucky to her. “Now we’ll never get a dog.”

That’s all it took to get the other two on board. Tears—and makeup—flowed freely. Ignoring the three girls crying in the background, Roxy hugged Belinda and drew her into the room. “Another baby? Congratulations! That is way more awesome than a dog. I mean, anybody can get a dog, but not just anybody can get a new baby brother or sister, right?”

Roxy’s logic did not resonate with her audience, because their waterworks continued. Belinda simply smiled and shook her head. “Thanks. We’re excited, by which I mean Ben and me, but”—she eased back and beamed at Roxy—“Melody told me you received some exciting news of your own today.”

West stopped in the process of rescuing the dog from a flood of little girl tears. Roxy, pregnant? A hard-to-define emotion ricocheted through him. He looked her way, his eyes automatically zooming to her stomach. “You have…” His voice bottomed out in a way it hadn’t since he was thirteen. Luckily, he doubted either woman heard over the crying girls. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Big news?”

“Huuuuuge news,” Belinda confirmed.

“Interesting news,” Roxy cautioned but then turned and must have caught a hint of where his mind had gone, because she laughed. “Well, no. Not quite as interesting as a baby on the way, but yes, I have some news. I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Let me get The Wailing Stevens Sisters Band out of your hair,” Belinda offered, “so you can have some peace and quiet.” She reached into her shoulder bag and handed Roxy some folded bills. “I added to what we agreed on because I had an extra one for you this afternoon.” Then, in what West could only describe as Drill Sergeant Mom voice, Belinda said, “Hope Elizabeth, Faith Ann, and Gracie Alexandra, dry those eyes and gather up your things. I want three heartfelt ‘thank-yous’ to Miss Roxy before we go, or we’re not stopping at Micky Dees on the way home.”

West didn’t know if it was the tone or the threat of no Happy Meals that motivated the girls, but in the next instant the sobbing stopped, guitars found their cases, shoes found feet, and Roxy received a hug and kiss from each girl as the troop marched out. After a final round of good-byes called from the top of the steps, Roxy closed the door, turned, and leaned against it. “Whew. Miss Roxy might not have known what she was getting into when she agreed to give guitar lessons.”

He approached, braced a forearm beside her head, and brought his face close to hers. “Good energy, huh?”

She managed a smile. “Sorry if the energy reached maximum intensity this afternoon. I was trying to find ways to get some of it out, and the lesson went long on account of Belinda’s appointment. Next week we should finish before you get home.”

“It’s not a problem,” he told her. “Now that I know you’re not being attacked by a pack of wild hyenas, I’ll pay it no mind.” He ran his fingertip over her forehead. “I guess it’s safe to assume this is the only bump we’re dealing with, but I take it you also got good news from Ellie?”

“She cleared me to return to work at the diner, half-time for the first week, and then back to normal.”

He leaned in and lightly kissed the bruise. “That is good news.”

“There’s more.” Slim fingers curled into his belt loops. “We went to DeShay’s to fill Addy in, and Earl happened by. He told me a certain officer with the Bluelick Police Department encouraged him to install lights behind the pub and add some security cameras. Then he offered me full sick pay for my missed dates and a twenty-five dollar a night raise to come back and play on Wednesdays and Fridays once everything is in and tested.” The fingers at his waist tugged him closer. “How can I possibly express my gratitude?”

His capability to reason got a little foggy. “All part of the service, ma’am.” She looked different with all the makeup on—a very convincing version of the rock star she’d been pretending to be. She smelled different, too—like hairspray and bubblegum. It was a little disorienting.

“I do appreciate it, though. I appreciate your help. I appreciate you caring about safety.” She leaned into him, pressing her breasts against his chest. “Maybe I appreciate it a little extra because I haven’t had someone looking out for me that way in a while.”

“Get used to it.” If only she would. He took a deep breath to clear the effects of her nearness out of his head. “This is all good news, but I don’t think it meets Belinda’s criteria of huge news. What else have you got?”

“Maybe nothing.” She dropped her gaze to his throat and fiddled with the top button of his uniform shirt. “It’s only potential good news, really.”

He captured her restless fingers and threaded them through his own. “Then I’m potentially happy for you. Why don’t we sit down, and you can tell me about it?”