Chapter 61 Good Boy
HART
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“WHAT’S YOUR TOP pick?”
I collect the property flyers, slip them into the manila folder, and give it a quick tap on the desk.
“Whichever one Jade falls in love with.”
Like she fell in love with me.
It still feels so unreal.
The real estate agent smiles at me. “Lucky girl.”
I give a slow shake of my head. “I’m the lucky one.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it.”
I jump at Wilma’s gravelly voice behind me.
I turn slowly, and the Quylt sisters stand behind me.
Right behind me.
Leaving only inches between us.
Faye’s enormous Kentucky Derby hat is adorned with miniature “For Sale” signs and tiny model houses perched on the brim.
“Good afternoon, ladies. Lookin’ into some real estate?”
I know better.
They followed me here. Whether they saw me walk through the front doors or heard through Rocky Ridge Creek’s grapevine that I’d stepped into the agency, only they know.
“Let’s just say, we can spot a future homeowner like we can spot a future soulmate.” She presses a glove hand to her chest, and a tiny “Sold” sign jingles from the charm bracelet on her wrist.
I shake the manila envelope. “No, thank you, ladies. Jade and I have this handled.”
“I don’t think Jade knows you’re even here.” Wilma arches an eyebrow with a stampede of accusations.
She doesn’t know, but we’ve talked about everything—our dreams, our plans, both now and for the future.
There are no secrets between us, except for this envelope I’m planning to surprise her with. We’re in tune with each other, entirely on the same page with no obstacles between us.
Well, of course, except for these two meddling ol’ birds.
“Did you read that on your little crystal ball?”
My question gets exactly the reaction intended. Bristled feathers, all puffed up, all ruffled, like I’ve disturbed a nest.
“I think you underestimate how well we know people.” Wilma’s stare is unyielding.
“I think you’ve underestimated how much I enjoy keeping my business my business. No gossip fodder here.”
Faye puts her weight on one foot, swaying little “For Sale” plaques hanging from her shoe buckles. “I told you he wouldn’t spill. Iron wall here.”
“What’s wrong with us giving you a little nudge in the right direction?” Wilma hikes a silver eyebrow. “We want to make sure you’re on the right track.”
“A little nudge?” I ask them. “We all know it’s more like a full-on shove.”
Last month, I would’ve released the big, burly bear inside me. I would’ve grumbled. I would’ve cursed. I probably wouldn’t have left the ranch. But I’ve been leaving the ranch more. Spending nights with Jade.
Going on dates.
Together.
In town.
Big fucking steps.
“He’s practically allergic to opening up.” Faye adjusts the sash that says “Open House.”
“At least he’s an open book.” Wilma blinks slowly, as if measuring the gravity of the moment.
“Am I?” I ask, and it goes unheard by them.
“He could try to be a little more cooperative,” Faye huffs. “We are only trying to help him.
“Maybe he doesn’t realize that.”
“I realize that,” I say.
Still, they ignore me.
“It’s like talking to a brick wall.” Wilma’s silver hair peeks out beneath the Stetson when she angles her head away from me.
“And what about the wedding?” Faye plants her hand on her hips.
Her tea dress has a large key embroidered across the front. “Will they spring it on us?”
“Or let us plan?”
Neither, but it’s not for them to know.
“Alright, ladies, enough with the commentary. I’ve got a woman to see.”
Some might say we’re rushing, buying land together after only a month, but when you’ve loved from a distance for as long as we both have, it’s never too soon. I want her to have the world, and I want to be by her side for every step.
The door chimes behind me as I step out into the spring heat. My phone buzzes as I climb into my truck.
“Hart, you busy?” It’s Levi.
“Is the baby here?” Since when is this a question I ask?
Since I realize it’s safe to ask. Safe to care. Safe to show them I care. And I do.
He chuckles. “No.”
“Any day, now, man.” I start the truck, and the air hits me.
“Listen, I need you at the North Wilde Ridge property.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Dean went up there alone. And there’s been a situation.”
“What kind of situation?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“You don’t know? But you’re sending me up there?”
“Look, he called me all weird and breathy, then the line cut out. Said he needed help. Something about the fireplace or the back room, or maybe a raccoon. He wasn’t making sense.”
“He called you. So you go over.”
“Listen, it’s your property.”
“It’s not my property.”
“You asked me at the rodeo to help you fix it up.”
I groan. “I just wanted y’all to shut up. I would’ve agreed to anything at that point.”
“Yeah, well, agree to go meet Dean and fix whatever mess he’s gotten himself into. Maybe he fell. Maybe he locked himself in the crawl space again. Or he tried to fix the water heater and blew half the basement off, I don’t know.”
“Jesus, Levi.”
“I don’t know, maybe there’s a bear in the house.”
I rub a hand down my face. “Why would there be a bear in the house?”
“I don’t know. Point is, I’m with Hope, and you’re closer. I just need someone to check. Just make sure he’s alive and not bleeding out under a pile of insulation or something.”
“Fine.” I glance over my shoulder as I reverse the truck. “But if there’s a possum, I’m putting him in your truck.”
“Maybe you could keep him. You know, since the adoption you tried to get fell through.”
He doesn’t understand that Hershey and Godiva meant something to me and Hope. They weren’t just two random dogs; they were dogs we found on our bucket list. I don’t tell him. I shouldn’t have even told him I tried to adopt them. I’d just been so heartbroken when I couldn’t surprise Hope.
“Maybe the possum will have a wife, so you’ll have two.”
“Asshole.” I hang up, shift into gear, and pull onto the road toward the property.
The road to the run-down house is all dirt and potholes with a ghost-story vibes.
I glance down at the listings again. We’re really doing this—me and her. I’d rather be driving to The Hive. Instead, I park in front of the house, if you can call it that.
It’s somehow gotten uglier.
The porch sags under my weight. Shutters hang off single rusted hinges. And the front creaks when I push it open, the door handle almost falling off in my hand.
“Dean?” I glance up the stairs ahead.
Silence. Just the low hum of—I’m not exactly sure what.
“Dean?” I peek in what could be a study.
Dust motes float in the slant of the afternoon sun through the cracked window. Everything is so still.
Then I turn and in the living room, I find a swing suspended from the ceiling. Not just any swing, a familiar leather and chains that I saw at The Crimson Hollow.
What the hell is my brother doing here?
I edge around the swing like it’s a trap.
“Dean, if you’re in here doing something that requires a safe word, I swear to the Lord.”
Silence answers. And that somehow makes it worse.
Please don’t let me find him naked and covered in glitter. Or a costume. Lord, please no costumes. Or handcuffs. Shit, did the fool handcuff himself to the bed frame, and it snapped underneath him?”
I notice an envelope on the seat with my name.
Plot twist.
Not sure I like it. I hesitate, not sure I want to touch the seat. Sticky is the first word that comes to mind. And not the spilled soda kind.
I pick up the envelope and open it.
The bucket list you didn’t know you needed.
Jade.
My heart races as I look up, scanning for her, but there’s no sign of her.
I open the folded card.
Good boys deserve rewards. Follow the scent to find your next clue.
I stare at it, excitement pulsing through me.
Fuck, I love this woman.
I read it again.
Out loud.
Concentrating harder on the store to try to make more sense of it the second time.
“Follow the scent?”
I sniff the air. Wood. Dust. Vanilla?
Nothing.
I turn and notice a rope toy at the bottom of the stairs. Sniff out the toy. What kind of kinky fetish is this?
I walk over and pick it up, finding another note tucked inside the loop.
You’re close. Shake your tail.
I blink.
“Okay, what the fuck?” I glance around. “I ain’t shaking my tail.” My shout echoes back at me.
What am I looking for?
I glance around and spot a bright rubber ball sticking out from under the couch. I crouch and pull it out. Another note is taped to it.
Good boy.
Why do those two words excite me?
Fetch. But great boys find the prize upstairs.
I stand slowly, turning the ball in my hand like it might explode.
My brain short-circuits in a good way. I’m up for whatever kinky fetishes my woman wants to play. We’ve already dabbled in candle wax and silk scarves, tested the limits with blindfolds and ice cubes.
She surprised me with that feather tickler, and it was an experience I’d repeat.
And don’t even get me started on the massage oils that somehow ended up everywhere except where they were intended to be.
So this? A new kind of game. A challenge I’m ready to take on.
Bring it on.
No matter how wild or weird, I’m all in.
Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, she always knows how to keep me on my toes, and I fucking love every second of it.
“This better be some weird sex thing,” I say, as I make my way to the stairs.
Something shiny catches my eye. Two leather collars, draped over the banister. Stitched. High-quality.
I pick them up and find another note.
Time to come when called.
I squinted at the words.
“Fuck yes,” I say out loud. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
The boards creak under me, and I pray they don’t collapse as I skip the two at a time.
I pause outside the bedroom door, heart thudding way harder than it had any right to.
I push open the door.
The room is dim with only the amber light bleeding in from the dusty window. Smells faintly of candle wax and something floral