Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“I have to play road-trip games to be cool?”
“Well, it’s a start. I’m still not sure you’ll be badass enough yet,” I replied. Knox smiled through his dark beard and chuckled. It was a bright smile, one that lit up the space, the deep baritone of his laugh contagious. Oh, I was in trouble. He was too sexy and too kind. This wasn’t going to end well for me.
“Okay, fine. Logan picks first. What do you want to play, buddy?” Knox eyed Logan through the rearview mirror. He sat in the back cab.
We spent the next two hours playing silly games with different colors of cars and license plates and funny facts about ourselves. They made me laugh like I couldn’t believe, and both Knox and Logan seemed to enjoy themselves just as much.
Before I knew it, we were pulling up to an old farmhouse, where an older woman stood out front, watering flowers. She waved at us as Knox turned the truck off, and we got out.
“Hope you guys found it okay?” she asked, approaching us.
“Yes, ma’am,” Knox replied. “This is Logan and Callum.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Margaret.” She shook our hands. “Pups are around back.”
She led us to the rear of the house, where there was a large walk-in kennel and a bunch of brown, curly, fluff balls running around. I didn’t know why, but it struck me then how far we’d driven for a pet, but then I remembered they’d done research on dogs that shed less and didn’t cause as many allergies. Knox hadn’t made this decision lightly. He’d put thought into what was best for his son.
“You’re welcome to go in and play with them, see how you do,” the woman said.
“Thank you,” Knox answered.
“I hope I’m okay with them,” Logan added. Oh, this poor boy was going to be brokenhearted if he couldn’t get a dog. I wished there was a way I could fix it, make it so that wasn’t a concern of his.
“I bet you will. I have asthma too, and I do okay,” Margaret told him.
“Really?” Logan asked.
“Yep. I’ll leave you guys to it.” Margaret stepped away and began pulling weeds from a flowerbed.
Knox opened the kennel, and the two of them went inside. I hung toward the back, not wanting to interrupt. It was special—picking your dog—a family moment. They didn’t need me for that.
The mama dog wasn’t in the enclosure with them. All the pups began jumping all over Knox’s and Logan’s legs. There were chairs they sat in, and Logan was picking them up and petting them.
“I thought you liked dogs?” Knox asked.
“I do, but this is your thing. I didn’t want to intrude.”
He frowned. “You’re not. You’re a founding member of the badass-cool-kids club, remember? If anyone belongs in here, it’s you.”
Oh, stop melting my heart. Knox Wheeler would be the death of me. “If you’re sure,” I replied softly, joining them. “What kind are they?”
“Lagotto Romagnolo,” Knox answered. I’d never heard of that before. They looked like a bigger poodle to me.
The three of us played with puppies for a good hour, and so far, Logan seemed to be okay. Knox studied him, likely looking for signs he was struggling, when Logan wasn’t paying attention, and to be honest, I did too.
“I have a friend with asthma back in LA. He’s great with dogs, but he can’t have cats. You never know.”
“Yeah, I think it really depends on the breed too. We’ve tried others and it didn’t work, but Carol, my ex-wife, had a friend with a Lagotto, and he was okay around her. I just wanted to be sure.”
“So can we get one, Dad?”
“I think so,” Knox answered. Logan hugged him, and my heart squeezed again. “Which one do you want?”
“Her.” Logan pointed to the little one. “I want the runt.” She was chocolate brown with a white spot on her chest and some on her paws, and had the biggest, bluest eyes I’d ever seen.
“It’s always the little ones that have the most heart and spunk,” I told Logan as we petted his new puppy. “She’s my favorite too.”
I felt Knox’s gaze on me the whole time.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Knox
We hit up a drive-through before leaving town. “What do you want?” I asked Callum.
“I’ll take the garden salad.”
I frowned. “Eww, vegetables. What about your daily intake of grease, fat, dairy—oh well, there’s cheese on the salad, I guess.”
He chuckled. “I like to eat right. It’s not like I don’t ever treat myself or enjoy a meal of heart disease, but—”
“Oh shit. I wasn’t thinking.” Open mouth, insert foot. I hadn’t even considered his heart condition. Hell, for all I knew it was more serious than he’d made it sound to Logan. I was sure he had to be careful with that kind of thing. Worry made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.