Page 49 of Will Bark for Pizza
This warm ledge had warm breath, too. It tickled my neck. Or maybe Husker turned the fan on. Did I teach him that trick? I felt the weight of his head against my folded legs, his cold nose pressing against my bare knee. The wall behind me was warm. Not quite level.Ha. Maybe the appraiser would have something to say about the state of the wavy walls, and Dad would decide not to sell after all.
“Take a deep breath,” Beckett said again, his voice soft against my ear. Something cool pressed against my forehead and held.
The relief was instant.
“Thank the vampire gods.” My words were more of a moan than anything, but I didn’t care.
“Vampire gods?”
“The Veltori five,” I told him. “Seth, Vincent,Dameon . . .”
The damp cloth against my head turned from cool to molten lava. I groaned, unable to open my eyes to see where it fell.
“Hold on.”
Water rushed from the faucet for a few seconds, then the cloth was replaced against my forehead.
Finally, my eyes fluttered open.
Two jean-clad legs stretched out on either side of my folded thighs. Tan work boots with yellow and black laces touched the door. Husker lay between those legs, his chin resting on my crossed legs as those big brown eyes looked up at me in concern.
“You back with me?” Beckett asked. His low voice gently rumbled against the side of my head, just behind my ear. His lips brushed against my hair as he spoke.
“Um, yeah?” The first rush of embarrassment hit me. I remembered Beckett’s voice on the other side of the door, but not him coming in or propping his body behind me. I squirmed, desperate to get up, but my wobbly legs were protesting hard.
“Take your time,” he said. “I’m not in a hurry.”
Now that my body temperature was no longer a thousand degrees, his warmth was comforting. Like the safety net I always craved when these stupid panic attacks hit. Part of me wanted to sit right here until the day was over. Or at least until the appraiser left. How the hell did I think I could handle being a part of the selling process?
“How are you here?” I asked, pulling away the wad of damp paper towels from my forehead and forcing myself to sit up straight, breaking the contact of his chest to myback. I ran my fingers along Husker’s head, but it wasn’t enough to distract me from the absence of Beckett’s heat.
I liked it.
Too much.
“You ready to go back out there?” Beckett asked.
I looked over my shoulder at him, which was a huge fucking mistake. Those hazel eyes from a distance were dangerous. But this close, they were deadly. I was both locked in a trance and too intimidated by the intensity of his stare.
But something didn’t sit right.
“Beckett, why are you here?”
“I’m guessing you don’t know,” he said, his expression regretful. “I’ve been trying to tell you, but we kept missing each other?—”
I bristled, and my tone turned cold. “Tell me what?”
“I’m the prospective buyer.”
SEVENTEEN
HUSKER
Mom is mad.
Why is Mom mad?
We’re leaving.
