Page 46 of Manhattan Heart

“To the dogs?”

She has her accusingabout to nail someone to the walllook.

Again, it has nothing to do with sex. I cannot catch a fucking break today.

“Don’t tell me you got the dogs just so I’d have something, Gray.”

Well.

I roll my lips inward and try to look innocent as fuck.

“Grayson. I swear to god if you got me those dogs in case you di—” She stops before finishing the word. She can’t say it and I try to go to her, to which she wards me off.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You talked about a puppy for ages, baby-girl.”

“Don’t baby-girl me right now. Tell me I’m wrong.”

I seriously got her the pups so she’d have a reason to get out of bed if anything happened to me. I can’t deny the claim and I never lie to her.

My half smile says it all.

“Oh my fucking god. You seriously took precautions for if…for if…”

“India, it’s not that bad.”

Her eyes flame.

My baby is set to get a good fury going.

But then something weird happens.

She deflates.

Just like that.

It’s never happened before.

Usually it takes a tank and an army to get her down from one of her fiery moods. I know this because I’m an expert at doing it.

But before my eyes, her shoulders wilt and she inhales several times, holding the air in before she lets it out.

“You are out of order doing that.” And then she turns on her sneakers and leaves me there, the pups trailing after her like the good assholes they are.

I’m behind her as fast as my weak-ass body will allow.

“Baby, wait.”

“It’s fine, Gray. Go back to rehearsing. I’ll call you guys when dinner is here.”

And then it hits me square in the face.

My India isn’t calm.

She isn’t rational.

She blows up.

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