Page 91 of Hidden Nature

“Ah… There.” He walked over, around a pile of lumber, and picked up a bright orange bone.

Sloan took it, offered it. “This is yours.”

Tic clamped around it and sat at her feet, staring up at her with heart eyes.

“Would you consider living here for maybe six months?”

Looking up again, Sloan decided she did like him and his flustered, frustrated ineptitude with a puppy.

“We never had a dog,” he continued. “We don’t know what we’re doing. I read this, and it doesn’t work. Theo reads that, it doesn’t work.”

“Be an alpha. Correct, reward, repeat. Anyway, I just bought a house.”

“Right. You want to hire us to fix something.”

“My bathroom. It’s a gut job. My father, you obviously know, could take it on, but I don’t want to ask him and/or Jonah to carve out that kind of time. It’s not a big space, about ninety square feet, but it’s easily a week’s work. Maybe ten days, especially if you need to juggle jobs.”

“Okay. Let’s go take a look.”

“Now?”

“Why not? It’s practically next door, right? Theo said Drea’s sister bought it.”

“All right.”

“I need to block the dog into what will, one day, be my home office.”

“Bring him. Like you said, it’s practically next door. Put some dog treats in your pocket.”

Obviously baffled, he frowned at her. “I should put dog treats in my pocket?”

“Always.”

He did what she said before they walked out into the snowfall together.

The dog immediately raced around, leaped in the air, rolled in the snow.

“Mop does that. My family’s dog. Some of them just love the snow. Tic!” Sloan snapped her fingers. “Come.”

When he did, Nash just picked him up. “You could take him for six months. Name your price.”

“You’ll do fine.”

“Be an alpha,” Nash muttered as he carried the dog to his truck. “I thought I was an alpha. Between you and the blond wood nymph, suddenly I’m a wimp.”

He followed Sloan the short distance while Tic leaped from front to back, back to front. Navigating the bumps and potholes of her drive, he hoped she’d budgeted enough for a grader and gravel.

And he immediately saw half a dozen things he’d do to the exterior of the house. New siding, paint the trim, new windows, a new front door, a porch. Add window boxes to play up the cottagey feel.

But maybe she liked a shit-brown house.

All the charm came from the location. The surrounding white-flocked trees, the falling snow, the shadows spreading as dusk approached, and the sense of being tucked away, just a little secret.

It seemed like a good choice for a woman who looked like she might sprout wings.

After leaping from the truck, Tic dived into the snow. Rolled, ran, paused, sniffed.

“Tic, come.”

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