Lucky Baby (Crescent Cove 11)

In the end, I wasn’t the one who had to shout “oh, Kimmie” out in the middle of the night. Nope. Her dude had that honor. And since she was knocked up again, I was pretty sure the Crescent Cove water was working way out here in the burbs too.

I couldn’t imagine having two under the age of drool. Hell, I couldn’t imagine any in my life. I liked the practice rounds of making a kid, not the reality.

Tish’s exasperated face as Abby interrogated her made me laugh. She was one woman I’d like to practice on—to infinity. Even if she usually looked at me as if I was a bug on the bottom of her badass boots.

Not that I had time to think about that right now. I was losing time on the mix and didn’t want to waste it. Gideon would kick my ass if I had to order more for this job. I hauled the five-gallon bucket of cement to the next post in the lineup.

I glanced over my shoulder one more time. Just what was Tish doing at my job site? Hopefully, she’d hang out until I was finished enough to take a break.

The quick set cement needed to be poured so it could cure overnight and I could come back to put in the rest of the slats. I didn’t have a lot of wiggle room to go over and see what was up.

However, I wasn’t above using some extra attraction points. I set down the pail, yanked out my hair tie, and let my hair tumble over my shoulders. I could hear the sighs from the moms on the porch. They really liked when I did that. Tish didn’t seem as impressed.

Ah, to heck with the friends crap. What would it take to get her to see me as bangable material? I could not get a read on that woman. Generally, I didn’t have this much trouble with the opposite sex. Becoming choosy didn’t mean I still didn’t have skills.

Just not with her.

I scooped up my hair on top of my head and quickly fastened my frayed hair tie around the curly

mess. I realized not everyone was my catnip and vice versa, but I knew there was something between us. Especially since she was extra surly when we did see one another. And not in the I’m-going-to-serve-you-a-restraining-order kind of way.

I figured if we got naked then maybe things would ease up. As it was, I was spending any of my extra money in Brewed Awakening, hoping for a glimpse of her.

She and Macy seemed to have a semi-friendship. At least when it came to coffee and food, they gave each other the same kind of grief that Caleb and I did. Back when I used to get to spend time with Caleb anyway. The wedding was in two months, and the only thing he and Luna ever wanted from me was to build shit or to nag me about getting fitted for my tux.

I really missed having a beer with my bro.

With a sigh, I lifted my sledgehammer and slammed the post into place with more force than was necessary. But then I heard the new blond lady give a clutching pearls sigh and decided it was worth it. Even if Tish seemed to be bored with the whole deal.

What the hell was she doing here? This didn’t seem like her scene at all.

I poured another bit of Quikrete over the post and measured to make sure it was centered correctly. I had five more to do, but I’d have to mix up some more since it set so fast. Maybe I could even get some more of that amazing lemonade Kimmie made.

I dropped my hammer and stepped around the bucket when I heard a small whimper. The weeds and brush at the edge of the lawn were one of the reasons the Olsens had contacted us. They were afraid of ticks and all manner of wildlife beyond their property line.

Another housing development was also in progress and the devil was a curious sort. Crescent Cove was a booming area for families. Maitland Enterprises was making a killing all over town, even out here in the burbs. This was a new developer though, which I was happy to see. FHK Property Group. Never heard of them.

Whimpers turned into a pathetic whine. I frowned and crouched down. Two little sad brown eyes glowed from the underbrush. A little snout was half hidden in leaves and mud.

“Hey, buddy.” I dug out my phone and turned on the torch light.

The little bundle of fur scrabbled back, and the wet cardboard box collapsed around him. Frightened, he—it—tried to get its face free, but its little mouth was tied shut by a piece of dirty clothesline rope.

“What the fuck?”

“Language!” Kimmie shouted from the deck.

I ignored her and crouched lower. My shoulders wouldn’t fit under the small space. Branches snapped and a thorn sliced along my neck. My fingers were shaking with anger, but I kept shoving my way in. I blew out a slow breath and forced my voice to gentle. I fisted my fingers for a moment to get them to stop shaking. “It’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Humans were pieces of shit. How long had the little dog been tied under there? The cardboard box was degrading in the perpetual wet of fall. The dog was filthy. Last night had been cold as hell, and the ground was boggy with moisture.

I tried not to flash the light in his eyes, but I needed it to see. The rope had dug into his fur, and his eyes were fierce and fearful. I gentled my voice and flattened myself on the ground. Dirt, leaves, and God knows what else stuck to my beard. I spit it out and sent up a silent prayer it wasn’t shit.

The little guy flinched. Slowly, I reached under the mangled bush to get closer. The rope was tied to the trunk so the small dog couldn’t get away.

Whomever had tied the dog here had left it to die.

My muscles locked with anger, but I forced my voice to stay soothing. The little guy seemed to know I was upset and couldn’t decide if I was friend or foe. Finally, I got to his tiny foot and I lightly stroked it with one finger. The dog was shuddering, but couldn’t pant since its poor mouth was tied shut.