Stone (Pittsburgh Titans 2)

She wiggles her bottom against me. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” I reply, lifting my head and smirking down at Odin that I’m now the one cuddling with his mom.

For a moment, we engage in a staring contest, and I almost feel as if he’s trying to make some calculations in that doggie head of his. I know he’s not getting in between us again, as our bodies are glued together.

My smirk gets smirkier, and I feel like I’ve won a major battle.

Woof.

Odin’s bark is deep and booming and has an urgent quality to it.

“Fine,” Harlow mumbles, and before I know what’s happening, she’s sliding away from me. My arms loosen and she slips from the bed. She reaches out a hand, scratches Odin behind the ears, and says, “Give me two minutes to get dressed.”

What the fuck?

I can’t even appreciate Harlow’s naked glory as she moves to her dresser to pull on a pair of sweatpants, followed by a sweatshirt. As she goes into her closet, coming back out with a pair of fuzzy boots, I glance at Odin.

I swear, the damn dog swings his big head my way and grins. His tongue lolls out the side as he attempts to appear goofy, but I can tell he’s gloating.

“What are you doing?” I ask dumbly as Harlow sits on the edge of the bed to pull on her boots.

She glances back at me, her red hair a mess of waves and tangles. “I have to take him out for a potty.”

I push up on one elbow. “A potty?”

“Well, yeah. I don’t want him to pee in my house, and he can’t use the toilet.”

“But it’s early… and freezing outside.” I know I’m stating the obvious, but I still feel compelled to point it out.

“That’s dog ownership for you. You live to serve their needs.”

I wouldn’t know. We never had pets growing up, and it wasn’t practical in college nor when I went into the pros. Not that I ever wanted one, but this is probably validation as to why I never needed one. Not sure I’d love being at the beck and call of a dog’s bladder.

“I’ll take him,” I blurt, pushing the covers off and getting out of bed.

“You don’t have to.”

“I’ll take him,” I repeat, nabbing my jeans and slipping them on. “You get back in bed—naked, of course—and I’ll join you when His Highness has had his royal constitutional.”

Harlow snorts but then looks uneasily between me and Odin. “I don’t know.”

“How hard can it be?” I’m slightly offended she thinks me incapable.

“He can be stubborn,” she says, holding her other boot in her hand as she’s still considering if I’m trustworthy.

“So can I,” I point out.

Harlow tips her head, green eyes lit with amusement. “I didn’t know that about you. Interesting.”

I glare at her sternly. “Get in bed. Get naked. I’ll be back soon.”

Another glance at Odin, who stares back at her, then to me. “Okay… if you think you can handle him.”

I can handle this dog. Surely, he’s got to pee badly. Quick and back, and then alone time with Harlow before I have to head to the arena.

?

Thirty minutes after leaving, Odin finally finds a spot in a small city park just a block from the condo. This was after he smelled every single rock in the place, considered four different trees, and seemingly won’t poop if I watch him. I finally figured out I had to look away when he started circling to conclude his business.

No one will convince me otherwise that the damn dog didn’t take his time just to impede upon my morning with Harlow. I could never prove such nefarious thoughts, though.

The fact I had to bag his shit and dispose of it did nothing to endear me to him either.

By the time we get back to the condo, Harlow has given up waiting naked for me in bed and is in the kitchen cooking breakfast. While she’s not naked, she’s every bit as sexy in a pair of leggings and an off-the-shoulder T-shirt. Her wild red mane is bunched on top of her head, and truly… she’s never looked lovelier.

As I unclip Odin’s leash, I marvel at my inner voice. Pretty sure I’ve never used the word lovelier in describing a woman.

My vocabulary wasn’t all that evolved when it came to the opposite sex. She was either hot or not. She was either cool or not. She was either a great lay or not.

But seriously… Harlow is a work of art, just in her comfy clothes and messy hair pulled away from her face. I find myself not all that irritated at Odin that I won’t be enjoying Harlow in bed to start my day. Somehow, walking her stubborn, vindictive dog for half an hour just so she didn’t have to go out in the nippy morning air fulfills me.