Brody ambled down the hall and sat obediently, waiting to be petted.
Bree stroked his head. “Always the gentleman.”
He gave the younger dog a serious side-eye.
Matt let both dogs into the yard for a minute. Then they all went into the bedroom. Bree and Matt showered together. The night had been long and depressing. She was too tired for sex, but she appreciated the companionship. She towel-dried her hair, used the toothbrush she kept there, and borrowed a T-shirt from Matt’s drawer. Soft and worn, it hung to midthigh.
Matt came up behind her. “This is a big bathroom. There’s plenty of room. You could keep more than a toothbrush here.”
Bree watched in the mirror as he wrapped his arms around her and drew her against his body. Leaning back against the solid warmth of him, she gestured toward the drawer. “I also brought moisturizer and deodorant. I don’t have that much more in my own bathroom.”
“You are low maintenance in the cosmetics department,” he agreed.
Bree wasn’t sure if she was low maintenance or just too lazy to bother with much makeup. Either way, she saved time and money.
“There’s space in the closet too. I’m not exactly a fashion icon.” He nodded toward her duffel bag, which sat on the vanity. “You could keep a change of clothes here.”
She turned and looped her arms around his neck. “Maybe I will.”
She’d been spending at least one night a week at his place, so it made sense. But taking up space in his house with her belongings felt like a next step. She waited for apprehension, but it didn’t come. Instead, the idea pleased her.
“Maybe you don’t always need to rush out before dawn either. It would be nice to eat breakfast together.” He kissed her temple.
“It would.”
“People have seen us date. We’ve had dinner together in town several times now.”
“This is true,” she said. Taking their relationship into the public arena had been a big step for her, but it felt like the right move.
“You are entitled to a personal life.”
“I agree.” Bree was no longer determined to keep their relationship a secret, but she didn’t feel the urge to make a media announcement about it either. “I go home early because of the kids.”
“The kids know we’re together.”
Bree nodded. “I’m not sure how to handle my nights out with them yet. This parenting thing is all new to me.”
Nights out implied sex—at least to Luke now and Kayla when she was a bit older, whether or not sex was happening. On one hand, she wanted them to know that sex was a natural part of an adult relationship. On the other, they weren’t adults, and she didn’t want to set the wrong example. There was so much to consider when raising kids, things that had never occurred to Bree in her past life.
Matt kissed her. “OK. I can understand that.”
“I want to be honest with them, and I want them to have healthy attitudes toward sex, but they also need to respect themselves and not rush into it.”
“We did not rush into sex.” Matt grinned. “I waited forever.” He dragged out the last word in a teasing tone. He turned to the black dog and pointed to a large dog crate. “Greta, kennel.”
The shepherd obediently entered the crate and Matt closed it. Then he used an extra clip on the lever.
“What’s that for?” Bree asked.
“She keeps letting herself out of the crate. She’s too smart for her own good.”
“Collins is going to have fun with her.” Bree had chosen Deputy Laurie Collins to be Greta’s handler.
“She’ll settle down once she’s working. She’s bored.” Matt had been training the dog to get her ready for the academy. Boredom indicated she was ready.
Taking Matt’s hand, Bree led him toward the bed. They climbed in, and she fell asleep in his arms.
When she woke, pain shot through her leg. Her foot was asleep, and her legs hooked at an unnatural angle around a large object. She opened her eyes. While they’d slept, Brody had stretched out on Bree’s side, leaving little room for her.
Matt rolled over. “Is there a bed bigger than a California king?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” Bree extricated her legs from around the big dog. His brown eyes opened. She patted him and whispered, “You’re a good boy.”
His tail thumped.
Matt groaned. “What time is it?”
She checked the time on her phone. “Five o’clock. Go back to sleep. I have to go. Luke will be up soon.”
Her nephew always fed the horses in the morning. And high school started at ridiculous o’clock. Still bone-weary, Bree got out of bed, pulled her gym clothes from her bag, and dressed. She walked around the bed to kiss Matt goodbye before leaving. Brody rolled into the space Bree had vacated.
She drove to her farm in the darkness. A mile from home, she passed her neighbor’s abandoned farm. The place had been empty for only a few months, but a tree had fallen on the porch roof, partially caving it in. Without a homeowner to maintain it, would Camilla Brown’s farm decay that quickly? Bree found the thought depressing.
She arrived home at five fifteen. She stepped out of the SUV and stood at the edge of the grass, breathing in the country air. The barn and meadow stretched out behind the house, and Bree reveled in the sheer span of space around her. Nine months ago, she’d lived in Philadelphia. Now, she couldn’t imagine returning to the city.
So much had changed in a short period of time.
As exhausted as she was, Bree detoured to the barn. Three horses blinked at her as she walked down the aisle. She stopped to pat the nose of her niece’s sturdy little horse and her nephew’s bay gelding before slipping into Cowboy’s stall. The paint gelding had been her sister’s mount, rescued from the kill buyer at the livestock auction. Bree stepped close and leaned her head against his neck. The scents of hay and horse comforted her.
Cowboy wrapped his neck around her and nibbled at her pocket.
“I don’t have any carrots. Sorry.” She straightened and scratched under his mane. He bobbed his head in approval.
With a sigh, Bree gave him a final pat, left the stall, and locked up the barn. She crossed the backyard and went into the house, quietly easing the door closed and resetting the alarm. The light over the stove glowed, and Bree found a note on the counter. Dinner is in the fridge—Dana.
Bree’s former partner and best friend, Dana Romano, had retired and moved to Grey’s Hollow to help Bree raise her nephew and niece. Luke, at sixteen, would be at home for only another two years, but Kayla was still in grammar school.
Nails scratched on hardwood, and Ladybug trotted into the kitchen. She didn’t have Greta’s energy—or her coordination—and slid straight into Bree’s knees. The dog weighed sixty pounds, and Bree braced herself against the wall to keep from being knocked down. Bree crouched to give the slobbery dog a big hug. While Greta might still be a little threatening, there was nothing even remotely intimidating about Ladybug. She was squishy and soft and had never met anyone she didn’t consider her best friend. Her stump of a tail spun in a crazy-fast circle. The dog always greeted her as if they’d been apart for years instead of hours. Bree was grateful that Matt had tricked her into adopting the chubby pointer mix.
Bree’s black cat, Vader, sauntered into the kitchen and jumped up onto the counter. He stared down at the dog in disgust.
Bree rubbed behind the dog’s ear. “Don’t mind him. He’s a snob.” She straightened and gave the cat a scratch on her way to the fridge.