Page 179 of Cross the Line
“How many dogs have you taken home with you?” I ask with a snicker when Blanca drags herself from Eli’s lap, across mine, to sniff JJ’s pants.
She’s sprawled across the three of us, snorting and whining away as Jayden scrolls through the questionnaire on the iPad.
“Too many,” Matheo says from behind us.
“Not that many…” Livia pulls a face at him. “I found Eleven hiding out by the pool house. So I technically didn’t take her home.”
“Geralt? Sherlock? Stark?” He ticks off names with a pressed smirk. “And of course, Frodo.”
“You love Frodo—he’s your bestie.”
“He eats my fucking shoes, Liv!”
She beams. “Told you to wash your cheesy feet.”
“I do not have foot odor,” Matheo grumbles at her.
“He obviously smells something…”
I’m doing my best not to burst out laughing, but Eli and JJ don’t hold back. They’re cry-laughing so hard that Blanca looks between them like they’ve lost the plot.
“Go on, assholes. Laugh at me now, but when you start bitching about your pup eating your shit, I’m going to laugh in your face. Like ha ha ha ha…”
“Trust me, you’re safe with Blanca. She’s no batshit Frodo.”
At this point, I don’t think I’d care if Blanca chewed the sneakers off my feet. The way she’s got Eli and JJ all gaga over her gives her carte blanche to rule the roost.
Before we leave, the shelter’s manager gets all the paperwork together. I’m blown away by how quickly it’s done—literally a few signatures, ID photocopies, some photos for their social media pages—and we are loading Blanca into the back of Eli’s car. She instantly makes herself at home on his gym bag while Samson remains sitting tall and proud, his nose doing that inquisitive waggle that turns to a snort as he sniffs Blanca from a respectable distance, according to Auguste and Courtney.
Just like that, we’re heading home with a new member of the family, and she’s so damn perfect for us that I can’t stop smiling the whole drive.
CHAPTER 48
ELIJAH
Unlucky thirteen.
I woke up with a headache today. Not a migraine, but a decent throb that has me forcing myself to relax beside Jayden on the flight from Chicago to Vancouver. The Chicago game was hard—the hardest we’ve had on this away run. Our seventh game in thirteen days, back-to-back with Pittsburgh.
Every hit had my guts in my throat, and Dylan ended up having to be subbed. Jayden picked up my slack like never before. I was glad when it was done and we got out of there.
The instant we boarded the flight straight from the arena, I knew I had to relax, hydrate, and catch up on the photos of Blanca that Fin’s been spamming our chat with. Now that Courtney’s had to go back to New Orleans, Samson’s in the mix, too.
Our girl not being alone is the only thing making being away from home easier. Our pup has made herself right at home in the photos Fin sent of her sprawled on the couch, all over JJ’s favorite blanket—the one he naps with every time. Little cutie has also taken to sleeping on my side of the bed with Samson snuggled into her.
Thank God she’s spayed. As enamored as I am with her, I couldn’t deal with puppies swarming our home.
I suck in a breath at the last photo our girl sent of the fading marks JJ and I left on her breasts. She’s in a pair of my boxer shorts, one of Jayden’s T-shirts hitched up the middle of her torso to the plump belly of her tits. While one hand holds up the top, the other is blowing us a kiss.
Eli
3 days, angel
Fin
3 DAYSssss!
Work?
