Shucked by Kate Canterbary

Author:Kate Canterbary [Canterbary, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Vesper Press
Published: 2023-08-21T16:00:00+00:00

chapter nineteen

Sunny

Today’s Special:

A Flight of Locally-Raised Rules

I should’ve anticipated the first thing that happened when we stepped inside the house because I knew my dogs. Most specifically, I knew Jem and the way he riled Scout up, and it should not have been a surprise that they bullied Beck the Bridge Troll to the floor within thirty seconds of the door closing behind us. He ended up flattened to the living room rug, paws on his chest and tongues lapping like he’d bathed in bacon, which led to the second thing I should’ve anticipated because I knew Beck.

He was kind to my dogs. More than kind. He was good to them.

He treated them with the same interest and concern he had for my friends, his brother, Mel, and Hale. But the difference here was that he wasn’t stoic about it. He didn’t pretend to be cool or emotionless. He played with them, rolling around on the floor and not once attempting to dodge their slobbering inspection. He scratched behind their ears and clapped their flanks, laughing as they yipped and howled, and he talked to them like he’d known them for years. Like they were his.

My heart felt spiky and leaden in my chest as I watched my dogs give this one their stamp of approval. As much as it frustrated me to admit, I approved of this one too.

After a few more minutes of play, I sat down on the floor beside Beck and said to the dogs, “Gentle.”

They clamored away from their new friend and stalked into the kitchen where they sloshed water from their bowls. Beck started brushing the dog hair from his clothes.

“Eh, fuck it,” he muttered. “That’s what dry cleaning is for.” Then he shifted, dropping his head to my lap and roping one arm around my waist while sliding a hand under my skirt. “Can they wait ten or fifteen minutes before hitting the streets?”

He gazed up at me as he traced my knee and, not for the first time, I wondered what his life was like back in Singapore. He’d wear suits, always with the vests and the rolled-up cuffs and the ties he wouldn’t stop tugging, but who did he see every day? What were his routines? How did he spend his nights? Who did he date? Who did he fuck?

I knew without asking that they were nothing like me. No, he went for the corporate type. Like the cousin who wasn’t a cousin. He liked that whole vibe. Ice-pick heels and coordinating pantsuits, sleek, obedient hairstyles and the kind of flawless makeup that could trick someone into believing it wasn’t makeup at all.

And somehow, for some reason, he was here. With me. Painfully aware of everything I did. Nestled in my lap. Asking for ten or fifteen minutes for—for what, exactly? For sex? To step outside and shake the dog hair off his clothes? To unload my bike and leave?

“What is it you think will take ten or fifteen minutes?”

He smoothed his broad palm up my thigh, stopping right in the middle.

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