Quit Bein' Ugly (The Southern Gentleman 3)

I heard her setting boxes out, walking out of the room, and gathering forks and spoons.

When she came back, she was reading the fortune.

“When you’re mad, sing the alphabet,” she singsonged.

I blinked one eye open.

“It doesn’t say that,” I grumbled.

“It does.” She turned it so that I could see it.

But she was standing six feet away and the print was the size of a grain of rice.

“Hope you like sweet and sour chicken,” she said. “Here’s your fork.”

I was already shaking my head. “No fork. Chopsticks.”

She scrunched her nose at me. “You can’t use chopsticks.”

“Watch me,” I said as I held out my hand for the plate of food she was holding out to me.

She ignored my outstretched hand and instead moved the table closer to me, followed shortly by placing some pillows behind my back.

When I was all sat forward, she held out the chopsticks that’d come with the meal, but also made sure that she left a fork next to my plate in case I needed it.

I wouldn’t.

If I couldn’t use chopsticks, I’d rather not eat.

Once I was settled and eating, she sat down, too, petting Lion when she curled up at her feet.

I couldn’t believe that she was at my house, on my couch, and eating Chinese food next to me.

When we’d arrived home from the hospital I kind of half expected her to drop me off at the door and go home.

I was thankful that she didn’t.

I hadn’t really given her the best impression.

“I talked to my mom today,” I said softly.

She turned to survey me.

“Yeah?”

I nodded. “She said that I was a dumbass.”

Her brows rose.

“She did? How surprising.”

Her humor made my cock hard.

I licked my lips and continued.

“That night,” I said. “The night of our date?”

She stiffened.

“I don’t even have an excuse. Suffice it to say, this huge case landed in my lap, and I should’ve handled things differently,” I admitted, not bothering to beat around the bush about how stupid I was. “I didn’t even notice that I missed our date until well into the night, and my mind was all over the fuckin’ place when… Jesus, it sounds worse when I try to explain. I’m sorry, Carmichael.”

Her eyes went soft for a few long seconds before she sighed. “It’s okay. It’s not like we would’ve worked out, anyway.”

I frowned. “What? Why?”

I for sure needed to know the answer because I wanted her in my bed. I wanted her in my life.

I’d learned my lesson.

She shrugged, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

“No reason.” She shrugged.

CHAPTER 8

I love your personality, but that dick is a huge bonus.

-Text from Carmichael to Croft

CROFT

Her phone went off, and she dove for it, looking for all she was worth as if she was desperate for something to change the subject.

Her face fell the moment that she read what was on the screen.

“What is it?” I asked quietly.

She frowned hard at the screen.

“A week or so ago I paired Danger, that malamute I told you about months ago, with a prospective owner. The owner just contacted me, telling me that they don’t think that they can keep her. That she’s too skittish, and every time they get near her, she pees all over the floor.” She sighed. “Shit. That poor dog.”

The thought of her business venture, the one that paired dogs with their owners, usually made me smile.

But hearing that her dog that she just paired, the one that she’d taken a liking to, had been rejected, stung.

“What now?” I asked.

“Now they bring her back to me.” She shrugged. “They said that they would drop her off tomorrow, and they’d like to try again with another dog.”

She grimaced.

“Is that okay with you?” I asked.

She made a face. “It’s fine, it’s just that I’ve found that usually when they give up one dog, they’re not really sure what they want, and they’re just trying to try them all out without really intending to keep one. That’s what happened to Sally’s previous owners.”

“Sally?” I asked.

“Sally is a Doberman. She’s a little rambunctious and likes to dig. She also can scale a six-foot privacy fence, so she either needs lots of land to roam, or an owner that’s not going to let her out and forget about her. Because you do that with Sally, and she’s gone. She’s just a curious little toot.” Carmichael lit up when she spoke about her dogs.

“Where’s Sally now?” I asked. “I know that you were keeping Danger at home with you, right?”

She nodded. “I am. Was. Will be again, I suppose. As for Sally, I have her staying with a friend.”

“What friend?” I asked.

“Schultz,” she answered. “I think that I might try to convince Schultz to keep her, though. They’re really good together, and even more, the kids are really good with her, too. She doesn’t wander when they’re around to keep her entertained.”