Read Online Bootscootin' Blahniks by D. D. Scott - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: D. D. Scott
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statement, but he’d better pass on it. Good thing he’d given her two pills. She’d be off his ass in no time.
He pressed the green button again. “By the way, how are you reaching an intercom from your office couch? You’re supposed to be off that ankle.” It’d be just like her to be walking on it when she was told not to.
“Relax, Dudley Do-Right,” she mocked him. “I happen…to have a reboat…remote.”
How convenient
. E
ven though she was immobile, he couldn’t dodge her medically-induced babble.
He rubbed Dipstick and Darling’s ears and massaged their elongated snouts, giving-in to their lap-loving personalities. Figuring he’d probably better get them outside, he located their leashes on top of Roxy’s drafting table and hooked them to each dog’s collar. Brown with the brown gems and pink with the pink. Roxy had to have been raised in Granimals. No wonder his mother loved her. When Zayne was a boy, she’d bought the entire line each season. He’d wanted Wranglers but always ended up with Granimals.
He followed the dogs down the first set of stairs. They raced around the side hall toward the second set. Damn. The steps were a bitch. Especially trying to hurdle dog leashes. No wonder he planned to keep his parent’s ranch-style home instead of building a modern multi-level dwelling. After working the fields then the saloon every day, stairs of any kind were an unnecessary aggravation.
On the second-floor landing, he found the intercom mount, painted the same canary yellow as the wall. He pushed the button, but couldn’t wait ’til Roxy responded as Dipstick and Darling made a mad dash for the first floor.
“You…rangggg…,” Roxy squealed into the speaker on his way down the final flight.
Yep, the drugs were working
.
Reaching the foyer, he yelled into the study. “And just where would your Highness like me to allow her royal Puggles to relieve themselves?”
“Out back. Follow the dogs…through the garbage…garage, whatever…,” she yelled back then laughed some more. “How did you know they were Puggles? I’m stressed…I mean…impressed, yeah, that’s it.”
Stepping into the two-car garage, he spotted Roxy’s cracked-up Mercedes and…her motorcycle?
Unbelievable
. The woman was a fascinating mystery. Who would have thought the fashion princess would also be a Harley Mama?
Unfucking believable
.
Lost in thoughts of taking her vintage Harley for a test-run on the back roads of the farm, Roxy seated behind him, he imagined the feel of her body against his. The idea drove him to new places, making him hotter than a bike’s exhaust pipe after a long ride.
Dipstick and Darling pulled at him, stopping his mind in its wistful tracks. He opened the back door of the garage, letting them tug him over a cobblestone terrace into a fairytale-like courtyard.
Surrounded by a brick privacy wall, Roxy’s backyard was cut straight out of the pages of his mother’s
Southern Living
then pasted here. He’d stepped into a honky tonk Garden of Eden. He unleashed the dogs and let them do their thing. Thankfully, the heady smell of roses and wild lilies, all in shades of pink, hit his nose ahead of the dogs’ number two.
The yard was the stage for a canopied eating area including, of all things, a lit chandelier suspended over an antique wrought-iron table and chairs. Roxy had also meticulously landscaped and lit a cutting garden with a majestic, lion-head fountain anchored in the center of a reflecting pool.
Except for the lion, the scene offered a softer side of Roxy he’d never imagined existed. And never would have believed unless he’d seen it with his own eyes. The woman was a dichotomy of morally opposing forces, but he was crazy about the mix.
“You never answered me, did you? How did ya know about Puggles?” Speaking of a lion, damn if she didn’t have an intercom piped into the backyard too.
“My mom wants one, but I haven’t found one for under six hundred
He pressed the green button again. “By the way, how are you reaching an intercom from your office couch? You’re supposed to be off that ankle.” It’d be just like her to be walking on it when she was told not to.
“Relax, Dudley Do-Right,” she mocked him. “I happen…to have a reboat…remote.”
How convenient
. E
ven though she was immobile, he couldn’t dodge her medically-induced babble.
He rubbed Dipstick and Darling’s ears and massaged their elongated snouts, giving-in to their lap-loving personalities. Figuring he’d probably better get them outside, he located their leashes on top of Roxy’s drafting table and hooked them to each dog’s collar. Brown with the brown gems and pink with the pink. Roxy had to have been raised in Granimals. No wonder his mother loved her. When Zayne was a boy, she’d bought the entire line each season. He’d wanted Wranglers but always ended up with Granimals.
He followed the dogs down the first set of stairs. They raced around the side hall toward the second set. Damn. The steps were a bitch. Especially trying to hurdle dog leashes. No wonder he planned to keep his parent’s ranch-style home instead of building a modern multi-level dwelling. After working the fields then the saloon every day, stairs of any kind were an unnecessary aggravation.
On the second-floor landing, he found the intercom mount, painted the same canary yellow as the wall. He pushed the button, but couldn’t wait ’til Roxy responded as Dipstick and Darling made a mad dash for the first floor.
“You…rangggg…,” Roxy squealed into the speaker on his way down the final flight.
Yep, the drugs were working
.
Reaching the foyer, he yelled into the study. “And just where would your Highness like me to allow her royal Puggles to relieve themselves?”
“Out back. Follow the dogs…through the garbage…garage, whatever…,” she yelled back then laughed some more. “How did you know they were Puggles? I’m stressed…I mean…impressed, yeah, that’s it.”
Stepping into the two-car garage, he spotted Roxy’s cracked-up Mercedes and…her motorcycle?
Unbelievable
. The woman was a fascinating mystery. Who would have thought the fashion princess would also be a Harley Mama?
Unfucking believable
.
Lost in thoughts of taking her vintage Harley for a test-run on the back roads of the farm, Roxy seated behind him, he imagined the feel of her body against his. The idea drove him to new places, making him hotter than a bike’s exhaust pipe after a long ride.
Dipstick and Darling pulled at him, stopping his mind in its wistful tracks. He opened the back door of the garage, letting them tug him over a cobblestone terrace into a fairytale-like courtyard.
Surrounded by a brick privacy wall, Roxy’s backyard was cut straight out of the pages of his mother’s
Southern Living
then pasted here. He’d stepped into a honky tonk Garden of Eden. He unleashed the dogs and let them do their thing. Thankfully, the heady smell of roses and wild lilies, all in shades of pink, hit his nose ahead of the dogs’ number two.
The yard was the stage for a canopied eating area including, of all things, a lit chandelier suspended over an antique wrought-iron table and chairs. Roxy had also meticulously landscaped and lit a cutting garden with a majestic, lion-head fountain anchored in the center of a reflecting pool.
Except for the lion, the scene offered a softer side of Roxy he’d never imagined existed. And never would have believed unless he’d seen it with his own eyes. The woman was a dichotomy of morally opposing forces, but he was crazy about the mix.
“You never answered me, did you? How did ya know about Puggles?” Speaking of a lion, damn if she didn’t have an intercom piped into the backyard too.
“My mom wants one, but I haven’t found one for under six hundred
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