Page 19 of Long Shot

“You know what we mean. Don’t be an idiot.”

“Well, isn’t this a fun evening,” I say. “I’ve been called a control freak, a pussy, and now an idiot.”

Beck barks out a laugh. “Don’t forget you called yourself an asshole.”

The tension in the room instantly lightens with Beck’s smartass remark. Some. I look at my friends and sigh. “Okay, yeah, I know what you mean. There’s something about her . . . I don’t know what it is. She makes me . . . curious.”

“Curious. Huh. Is that a new euphemism for horny?”

“Ha. Very funny.”

“What are you curious about?” Marco sits back again, forehead furrowed.

“I don’t know. Everything. And I don’t just mean what she’s like in bed.”Or how she tastes. Or how she uses that very lickable mouth. Or whether she likes to be on top or bottom, or on her hands and knees . . .“She knows a lot more about food and drinks and running a restaurant than she lets on. I feel like she’s hiding something.”

“Jesus. Did you do a criminal record check before you hired her?”

“No! That’s not what I mean. At least, I don’t think it is.” Hell, what if sheisa convicted felon? I shake my head. “No. That’s ridiculous. It’s just that she’s very . . . private, I guess. And it makes me wonder why. Also she’s kind of jumpy.”

“That’s true.” Beck drums his forefinger on his lip. “So you’re saying youdon’twant to tap that?”

“Ugh. Okay, not gonna lie, she’s also hot.”

Marco smirks. “Speaking purely objectively, yes, she is.”

“Never noticed,” Beck says.

“Bullshit,” Marco and I say at the same time.

Beck grins. “I’m not attracted to her, but yeah, I can see she’s a babe. The fact remains, though, she works for us and is therefore off-limits.”

One corner of my mouth lifts. “I know.” Not that I want to return to talking about my little issue with bike-riding, but that’s probably safer than talking about Reese. “Okay, if you want me to get back on a fucking bike, I will.”

“Great. Tomorrow afternoon.”

“Sure. Fine.”

6

REESE

When I haven’t heard back from Barb at the shelter by Thursday afternoon, I call her.

“Oh, I was just going to call you, Reese! The family who was interested in possibly adopting Jack decided on another dog.”

“Oh.” I lean against my kitchen counter, a happy relief fizzing through my veins. “Okay, then.”

“You’re fine keeping him longer?”

“Of course! Not a problem at all.”

“Great. Hopefully Jack will find a forever home soon.”

I end the call. Am I a selfish bitch, not hoping the same thing? Jack’s a good dog and he deserves a loving forever family.

“But you’re okay here with me, aren’t you, buddy?” I crouch and rub his head and back, and his tail sweeps the floor in a happy back-and-forth. “I’m a good foster mom.”

He smiles at me, pink tongue hanging out of his mouth. He clearly agrees with me.

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