Page 82 of Gone With the Wine

“Breakfast in bed is a thing. Why not dinner in bed?”

She smiles. “Why not.”

I grab a pair of shorts and open the bedroom door. Moose is lying right outside it and he’s shaking. “Oh no.”

“What?” Bianca sits up.

I’m briefly distracted by her gorgeous tits. Giving my head a shake, I bend and scoop Moose up. “Moose, my man. What’s wrong?”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s shaking.”

“Oh.” After a beat, she adds, “Maybe we scared him.”

I look over at her. She’s not making a joke. “Do you think?”

She bites her lip. “We made a lot of noise. It was pretty, er, physical. Maybe he’s…er, not used to that?”

“Well, no more sex for us then.”

Her mouth drops open and then she catches my eye and bursts out laughing, flopping to her back.

A smile tugs at my lips, unfamiliar and yet so goddamn delightful.

“You made a joke,” she wheezes, still giggling. “A good one. You said that with such a straight face I believed you.”

Cuddling Moose to my chest, I walk over to her, bend, and kiss her smiling mouth. “After that, the only thing that’ll stop me from having more sex with you is…well…” There’s nothing. Other than if she said no. “Well, you.”

Her eyes soften and her smile turns pensive. “I’m not going to stop you.”

“Good.” I straighten. “Come on, Moose, let’s get dinner for this gorgeous woman.”

“I can help!”

“That’s okay. It’s basically done.”

I carry Moose to the kitchen but then I cross to the door onto the deck and hook him up to the tie out rope. “You’re okay,” I tell him. “We’re okay. Sorry, little buddy.” I give him a rub then let him go.

He pees on the deck.

“Damn. That’s not how you do it, buddy.” I take him to the grass, but of course it’s too late this time. He’s been doing so well with going outside. Maybe he’s mad at us. Are dogs that smart?

I leave him out there to sniff around and return to the kitchen. I throw the enchilasagna into the microwave, toss the salad together, just a packaged one from the grocery store, fix two plates on a tray, then grab a bottle of wine and glasses.

Moose appears at the sliding door and I let him in. “Better now? Maybe you just had to pee.”

I guess a good dog dad would keep that in mind. This dog dad, however, lost his mind.

I can’t regret it.

Holy shit.

Exhaling a hot air balloon’s volume of gas, I carry the tray to the bedroom.

My steps halt as I walk in, taking in the sight of Bianca in my bed. She turned on the lamp beside the bed. Her dark hair is a tousled mess, shining in the light, the skin of her shoulders smooth and tawny from time in the sun. She’s curled on her side under the covers and looks like she’s asleep, her face relaxed and wearing that perpetual smile, but when she hears me she opens her eyes and her smile deepens.

“Oh, wow. You weren’t kidding.”

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