Page 29 of My Greatest Joy

“Oh, you’re ridiculous.” I look at Dasher sprawled out on the couch and take steps toward him. When I pet his head, his tail wags under the blanket she wrapped him in. “Oh, you stink.”

I turn to Fallon, who’s dressed in tight joggers, at least two pairs of fuzzy socks, and a hoodie.

“How was your day?” I ask, knowing he probably wore her out.

“Horrible,” she mutters, and I hand her the bag of goodies. She struggles to untie the handles that are in a tight bow.

“It couldn’t have beenthatbad,” I say. “At least not any worse than mine.”

“Debatable.” Her eyes widen once she opens the bag. “You brought me coffee? Oh my God.”

Her mood immediately changes.

“Compliments from my mama.”

“I’ll have to personally thank her,” she says genuinely, and I know my mom will like that.

“So tell me how my precious little boy was a demon?” I smirk, knowing how rambunctious he can be.

“First of all, he brought me that ball and forced me to throw it for nearly an hour.”

My face cracks into a wide smile at her emphasis onforced.

“And then, when I let him out, he kept playing in the snow and slush. Every time I tried to get him to come in, he’d act like it was a game and want me to chase him. I wasn’t about to do that, so I left him out there until he pawed on the door to come in,” she explains. “Also, I’m sorry he’s gross. I made a valiant effort to clean up the paw prints but eventually gave up. It was useless.”

Now I’m laughing. Her defeated tone is pitiful.

“It’s not funny!” she scolds. “He’s worse than an actual child, and I’d know because I’ve babysat my nieces! They acted more obedient.”

“Don’t listen to her, Dasher. You’re a good boy.”

Fallon shakes her head, then puts her laptop down before standing. She sashays to the kitchen, carrying the bag. “Where’s your coffee maker?”

“Damn, I knew I was forgetting something,” I mutter, keeping a straight face.

“Should’ve known it was too good to be true,” she grinds out as she tries to walk past me.

I gently grab her elbow and pull her in front of me. “I was kidding. Loosen up,Fallon Joy.”

Her eyes narrow before the corner of her lips slightly tilts up. “You’re rude.”

“And you’re too serious,” I say, moving into my pantry, and grab the appliance from the top shelf. I went through a phase when I tried to drink it before work but never stuck with it. I’m naturally alert in the mornings anyway—a blessing when it comes to my job.

I set it on the counter and plug it in. When the clock flashes, I smile. “See, it might be old, but it still works.”

“Like you.”

“You can’t be that much younger than me.”

“I’m not celebrating until I have a hot cup in front of me.”

“Just give me five minutes, and you’ll be plenty satisfied.”

Fallon snorts, and then I realize what I’ve said. “Only last five minutes, huh?”

“Don’t insult me like that.” I look up and meet her playful eyes.

“It’s because you’re a fuckman. Lots of practice, right?” Her serious tone has me bellowing out a laugh.

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