Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Feeling a tad bit cranky, Gin sat on the floor in her living room and hugged her dog.
Three days had passed without any contact from Atticus. Why did it hurt so much when a guy didn’t call soon afterward?
“So why hasn’t he called? The sex was great.”
Trigger whined in answer.
“I don’t like it when you’re logical.” She scowled at him. “Fine. I thought the sex was great. Maybe Atticus didn’t agree.” Atticus was certainly a whole lot more experienced than she was. He hadn’t acted as if he was just being nice, but maybe he’d found her inadequate, despite his compliments.
Trigger set a big paw on her thigh.
“No, I have only you for advice right now.” She’d wanted to talk with someone who knew about Doms, but she didn’t know Sunny quite well enough to share. Kallie was guiding a wilderness tour off in the hinterlands somewhere.
Becca was lovely and would undoubtedly help, but her husband, Logan, was purely scary. Wouldn’t it be awful if he stepped in to fix things?
“Really though, it’s better if things die between me and Atticus.”
Trigger gave her a disbelieving look.
“Seriously.” The Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation had rules about interactions with a case’s family members…and she’d broken them. If she saw Atticus again, she’d have to report it to admin.
Darn prison. She slumped back against the couch. If only the job had been more what she’d hoped for. The work was interesting, true. Although trying to get through all their defenses was difficult, she loved the challenge.
Her colleagues thought she was funny when she did a happy dance in her office when she succeeded in drawing one out, in helping one move toward health rather than sickness.
But the conditions were dismal. Although she’d suggested some easy changes, the mental health admin hadn’t been very optimistic. The warden wasn’t interested.
Well, she’d wait a bit and try again.
Meantime…she needed to get her butt out of the house. She was always telling her inmates to exercise off their bad moods.
Leaning forward, she smiled into the big brown eyes of her very own pet. Best listener in the world, even if he was too logical.
“C’mon, my friend. Let’s have a stroll.” She grinned when Trigger jumped up and woofed his delight. He didn’t mind the backyard, but had let it be known that big dogs like to stretch their legs, especially in the forested area at the end of their street.
As she stepped out into the twilight, she pulled in a breath of bitingly cold air. Sunset-pink clouds drifted across the sky, but lower over the western mountains, thunderheads built their own dark range.
“Looks like we’re getting a springtime shower soon. Don’t go too far.”
Ignoring her, the dog loped away and disappeared into the darkness of the well-canopied forest.
She smiled. Coming home to all his canine enthusiasm was so, so nice. Her evenings were less solitary with him sprawled over her legs while they watched television…although his conversational interests were a bit limited. And he totally didn’t get how gorgeous Gregory Peck was in The Big Country.
Why couldn’t she find herself a Gregory Peck?
Uh-uh. Not yet. No matter how lonely, she wasn’t ready for a man—even a cowboy hero. Not until she’d worked through her small personal problem.
Following Trigger, she veered off the trail, making her way toward the water glinting through the trees.
Well, actually, her personal problem was maybe on the larger side.
How often had she attentively listened to Preston complain about his job. Yet, if she mentioned hers, he had changed the subject or turned on the television.
All of their interactions had been similar. She’d supported him mentally, emotionally, and physically without receiving anything back. Then, instead of dumping him, she’d tried harder to make it work. To please him.
Good thing Preston had cheated on her, or she’d still be with him. Dumb, right?
A master’s degree sure didn’t bestow self-understanding—although it did help somewhat after a person woke up.
She’d seen she formed the same pattern in all her relationships with men—with her father, a series of boyfriends, and finally her fiancé. With each, she’d worked her ass off to keep him, exactly as her mother had.
Like an alcoholic with no limits, she’d give and give until she lost all sense of herself. So until she was adjusted enough for healthy attachments, she needed to avoid relationships and serious ties with men.
Stick to friendly booty sex. That was the ticket.
A light patter above announced the first raindrops hitting the foliage…then her unprotected head. She shivered, turned, and headed for home.
Even before she could call, Trigger appeared, trailing her down the tiny animal path she’d been following. No matter how far he went, he never lost her.
“Typical male,” she scolded as he gently mouthed her fingers in his favorite greeting. “Always running la—” Her voice trailed off as she realized she fed him, watered him, let him on the couch, walked him. Another demanding guy she’d let into her life.
Then again, he returned her efforts with a heart-warming outpouring of love. So, there really was a balance.
“Guess you’re different from normal guys because you were neutered. Because you’re not actually a male.”
He gave her a reproachful look.
She grinned, imagining Atticus Ware’s expression if she suggested that he get snipped.