Two Wingmen and a Baby: A Wingmen Short (Wingmen Short Stories Book 3) by Daisy Prescott

Author:Daisy Prescott [Prescott, Daisy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: contemporary romance, romantic comedy, small town romance, women's ficiton romance, women's ficiton humor, short story
Published: 2016-10-17T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

As soon as the door closes, I'm running to my truck and throwing it into gear.

Next thing I know, I’m speeding down the road to our house.

Getting here is a blur. I don’t remember making any turns.

The car behind me flicks their high beams and my heart stalls thinking I’m about to be pulled over. Instead they pass me and I see it’s Erik’s Bronco. I flip him off and he gives me the same in his rearview window.

Smug bastard.

His Naked Whidbey bumper sticker makes me laugh, though. Talk about growing up and owning your shit.

Distracted by Erik, I almost miss my mailbox marking the private drive. Slamming on the breaks, I take the turn to quickly and squash a couple of ferns at the edge, but don’t take out the post or the mailbox. I consider this a success.

Gravel spins out from my tires when I reach the house. Except for the porch light being on, the house is dark. A glance at the truck’s clock tells me it’s not even eight o’clock. Hailey can’t possibly be in bed yet.

Where is she?

Her not being home is going to put the kibosh on my plans to have sex with her.

In a major way.

I scowl at the empty spot where her car should be, then text her.

*GET HOME*

*NOW*

I realize the all caps might come off as angry. Especially after our fight this morning. Not that I’m agreeing it was even a fight. More of a squabble, a minor dispute over three words.

*Please* I add.

Nameless barrels into me when I open the door, nearly knocking me off my feet. He might not be a year old yet, but he’s the size of a horse. A pony at least. He puts his paws on my stomach while his tail thumps wildly around my legs.

“Someday we’ll give you a proper name.” I scratch his head. “Wanna go outside?”

At the sound of his favorite two words, he dashes past me into the yard and toward my truck. Sitting next to the front wheel, he looks at me expectantly.

“Sorry, buddy. We’re not going anywhere.”

He tilts his head and barks once.

“I don’t know where she is, so we can’t go find her.”

It’s probably my imagination, but I swear he gives me a dirty look right before he lifts his leg to pee on my tire.

Message received.

“Listen, you giant poodle, I can still build you a dog house over there.” I point to my workshop on the far side of the clearing.

He shakes his collar and trots over to me as light breaches the tree line. Anticipating the arrival of his favorite human, he paces in front of me. “Down boy.”

I could tell myself the same thing. I’m still sporting a semi after having dirty thoughts the entire drive home.

The silver hood of Hailey’s SUV comes into view. Nameless runs in circles, bouncing around like a fuzzy deer. Honestly, he’s more cartoon than dog.

When she stops the engine and opens her door, Nameless leaps onto her lap. Not that there’s room for him, but that doesn’t stop him.

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