Chapter 23
Jett hadn’t been kidding about the dogs’ farts.
Trask was half way home, and he was already contemplating walking the rest of the way because the air in the truck had turned noxious.
Seriously?
How did this happen?
If Trask were a betting man, he’d say that old Randal had been feeding the dogs those onions he was no longer allowed to eat.
And if the man’s odor-emittances had been anything like the pups’, Trask deemed Bunny a brave woman to have endured the challenge of sticking with Randal long enough to convert him to a new diet.
“Okay boys. Put a cork in it, will you?” he pleaded with them. “I have better things to do than smell your farts. The snow is coming down hard now, so I need to give all my attention to the road, not on your gas.”
Speaking of gas…
Dammit. He should have topped off back in Portsmouth, but it had slipped his mind since he’d wanted to get underway as quickly as possible with the blizzard closing in.
And that wasn’t like him. At all.
When was the last time he’d been unprepared for something?
Shit.
He reminded himself of his final months in the marines. He had been totally blindsided then, with what had happened. But he needed to let that all go. Reliving the fucked-up bunch of bullshit that had occurred would have him fuming.
Fuming…fumes…
Yup. That seemed to be the theme of the afternoon.
Farts, anger, and gasoline.
But the petrol, he could do something about.
Trask kept his eyes peeled, searching for an exit that had what he needed, and was frustrated when another ten miles went by with nothing showing up.
Just when he thought he was screwed, the ramp ahead displayed signs for the gas station he needed.
Halleluia.
“We got lucky, boys,” he told the dogs, letting some of the tension leach from his body. “And after I gas up, I’ll let you have a bathroom break. Would you like to get out of the truck for a few minutes?”
The dogs, as if they understood, started bouncing around in the back seat, flying back and forth from window to window while making small yips.
Good.
At least they now had their little dog-minds on something other than aerating their assholes.
Two minutes later, Trask was pumping gas, thankfully under a canopy because it was snowing like a bitch now, and it was a wet, heavy snow.
He knew he’d be getting soaked the minute he let the dogs run, but what choice did he have?
If they pooped out a little of what was bugging their guts, the rest of the trip might be more pleasant, at least on the inside of his truck.
He finished at the pump, paid, then opened the back door for Tinker and Langly.
They both bolted out, streaked across the semi-cleared pavement, and almost instantly began rolling in the couple inches of snow that had already fallen on the nearby grass.
“Guys! Guys. We don’t have time to play,” Trask huffed, then realized he was talking to the pair like Jett did, conversationally and without an ounce of authority.
Clearly, she’d already begun scrambling his brain.
He needed to get his alpha back on.
“Langly. Tinker. Heel,” he ordered in his best military voice.
The duo instantly jumped up and ran to his side where they sat, tails wagging.
He looked them both in the eyes and gave a direct command. “Go do your business,” he barked.
The dogs didn’t hesitate. They took off for the only tree on the gas station grounds and lifted their legs. After that, the pups sniffed around, sniffed around, sniffed around, then…
At last. They squatted side by side and each took a good dump, which—
Crap.
Literally.
He wasn’t quite sure of protocol, but wasn’t he supposed to go pick up the dogs’ shit? That had to be a thing, he was almost certain.
But if that was the case, he didn’t have any bags.
Sighing heavily, he relegated himself to having a few more minutes wasted, while he took care of their…business.
Trask whistled to the pups as soon as they were finished—and in danger of letting their noses lead them off—eventually having to go over and herd the enthusiastic pair to the vehicle.
“I’ll be right back,” he told them, then scolded himself for acting again as if they were human as he closed the door behind them.
He was going fucking soft in the head.
And it was all Jett’s fault.
His phone rang in his pocket as he walked toward the gas station.
Speaking of the devil-woman…
“Hi Jett. I’m halfway home. I just gassed up and gave your dogs a bathroom break. Now I’m about to pick up their crap. What’s going on with you?”
She gave an airy laugh. “You’re so good to them,” she crooned.
“Yeah. I know,” he clipped, but he couldn’t work up any real ire. That’s what she did to him. “So what’s up?”
She gave him the scoop.
“Spence, Tabitha, and Sheila dropped me off a little while ago at your parents’ house, then they headed to Sheila’s to get her cat Rugby before they move on to Buck’s place to pick up Duck from Bobbie, who’s been hanging with the lab and her own pup, Reyghan today, since it was her day off.”
Ramble much?
But of course, he was guilty of the same thing where she was concerned.
“And my parents?” Trask asked. “I’m sure they welcomed you with open arms after I called and told them you were coming.”
“They did,” Jett replied cheerfully. “And thanks for that. They were very happy to see me because my presence actually solved a problem they’d been worrying over.
Your dad’s folks. Ellen and Guy were concerned about leaving the elderly pair alone since the storm might end up socking them in.
But with me here to keep an eye on the homestead, your parents felt free to leave and head north to ride the snow out with them. ”
Trask had wondered about that. His grandparents were both pushing ninety and fairly independent, but they wouldn’t be up to shoveling walkways or keeping the roof clear if the snow mounted up and posed a danger to their old farmhouse.
Of course, Trask’s parents weren’t spring chickens, either, but both were in great shape and extremely active, so he wasn’t worried they couldn’t handle things. And if they found themselves in any trouble, they had him, Mason, Kyle, Spence, and Buck to call.
Family was really great…most of the time.
Selfishly, Trask glommed onto his parents’ absence as being fortuitous for another reason.
He’d have alone-time with Jett.
Snowed-in alone time.
“When do you think you’ll get here?” Jett asked.
Was that excitement in her voice?
He looked out at the road, and noted that the plows and removal crews were currently keeping up with the snowfall, but he knew they’d have a hard time once the heart of the storm was upon them, which according to the news would be in another two hours.
That gave him a very small window to make it home before they were inundated.
Thank God for four-wheel drive.
“I’m hoping to make it there in under two hours, but if the roads get rougher, I’m not going to push it. I’ll be taking it nice and slowly so the dogs and I can make it home in one piece.” He approached the checkout counter. “Can you hold on one minute?” he asked her.
“Uh, sure.”
He addressed the young man who was at the register texting.
Trask cleared his throat to get his attention. “Do you have any bags I can use to pick up my dogs’ waste?” he asked politely.
“Dude,” the guy responded, almost rolling his eyes.
“Have you seen the snow out there? That shit will be all covered up by the time you get back to it, if it isn’t already.
And we won’t be seeing it ‘til spring. If you want to come back then and take care of it…” the youth suggested cheekily, trailing off.
Normally, the irreverence of the clerk would have pissed him off, but this time Trask found his lips quirking upward, enjoying the humor.
“I’ll pass,” he said. “But thanks for that.”
He turned and walked out the door.
“I heard that,” Jett said in his ear. “And I’m so proud of you for not calling that guy out on for being an arrogant jerk.”
“Your fault,” Trask responded gruffly. “You’ve already got me looking at people more…objectively. It’s made it so I’m not even trying to pull rank anymore.”
“See? I’m good for something,” she chirped happily.
“Oh, I have a feeling you’re going to be good for a lot of things,” he sent back, and found that a full, damned smile had spread across his lips.
“Mmm,” she answered. “You mean like cooking?”
Jett clearly knew that wasn’t what he meant, the minx. But she continued in that vein.
“How about I get some dinner started while you drive?” she asked.
Yes, she could do that even if she lost power. His parents, like Spence, had a generator which would run most things in the house in case of an outage.
“Uh. Sure. I could eat.” Indeed, he’d forgotten to have anything since breakfast, and his stomach was feeling growly, so just like that, Jett had managed to change the narrative. Not that Trask wouldn’t get back to it.
“Do you have anything specific that you’d like?” she asked.
“Surprise me. But whatever you cook,” he warned, “make sure it hasn’t got onions.”
It wasn’t a suggestion. He didn’t think he’d be able to stomach any allium-related foods for a long fucking time.
“Ah. I see.” Jett giggled. “Dad did feed the dogs before you took them.”
“He certainly did. And I think whatever he gave them must have died inside your mutts. I’ve never smelled such horrific farts in my entire life.”
Jett full-throated laughed. “Poor baby. But I promise they don’t ever have that problem when I stick to their vet-approved diet. So this should be a one-and-done. Are you going to be okay?” she asked happily, not sounding in the least bit repentant for sticking him with the gaseous pair.
He got back into his truck before he answered.
“Yeah. I’ll be okay. But if this becomes a pattern, those two won’t be sleeping in our room any time soon.”
“Our room, huh?” she asked, suddenly sounding a little less irreverent, and a tad more breathless.
“Hmph. Did I say that?” Trask teased.
Fuck. He actually…teased.
The damned woman was taking a toll on him.
“Uh, uh. No takesies-backsies,” she chortled. “We’re roomies now, whether you like it or not.”
“Oh, I plan to like it. I plan to like it a lot,” he responded, deciding not to hold back.
“Yes, but will I?” she countered cheekily, barely able to contain her glee, even over the phone.
Trask’s anticipation ramped up exponentially, and he had to adjust his dick before he put his seatbelt on.
“I guarantee you’ll love every minute of what I have planned,” he told her, pulling out of the gas station and heading back toward the on-ramp.
When he looked back to merge onto the highway traffic, there was nothing to merge with. He was the only asshole stupid enough to be out with the huge-ass storm approaching.
Except for the two plows and the sander in front of him.
He made a quick decision.
It might make his trip slower, but he felt it would be prudent to trail the road-crew, taking advantage of the freshly treated pavement instead of going rogue. He eased off the gas, matching his speed to theirs.
“Mmm.” She made a yummy noise.
Trask tamped down a groan.
What would also be prudent was keeping the blood that swelled his cock, in his brain, so he didn’t get stupid and have an accident.
“Listen. As much fun as it is chatting with you, Jett, I’m going to go. I need to concentrate on the road.”
“Instead of your penis,” she whipped back at him. “I get it. And speaking of penises, I haven’t seen yours yet. So please take good care of it and get it home to me in one lovely piece so that I can feast my eyes on it…or just feast on it. Okay?”
“Damn, woman. You’re going to pay for taunting me like that, you know,” Trask rumbled.
“That’s what I’m hoping for,” she returned sassily. “See you soon.”