“I don’t have permission to have a pet here,” I told him, since it was the thing at the top of my mind.
“That’s the beauty of a pig, isn’t it? She’s litter trained. No one would even know you have her. Not that they can see you all the way back here anyway. Though the nice lady who bred her told me that it is very important for her to spend time outside and rut in the dirt. Enrichment or some shit,” he said.
“And I work,” I added, though I knew it was a lame excuse. Most people with pets had jobs.
“She’ll be here waiting for you when you get home.”
I couldn’t tell him my next objection.
That I couldn’t afford a pet.
Not yet, anyway.
It was on my long-term goals list. I’d always wanted a pet growing up. Literally any kind of pet. I’d loved them all.
I can barely afford to feed you, how am I going to feed a pet, Theodora?
To be fair to my mother, yeah, we never had enough food to fill our own stomachs. But as a kid who was desperate for something to love that would love her back? Yeah, it had been devastating.
But if I was going to get a pet, I wanted it to be the right time. I wanted to be stable enough to spoil the fuck out of it.
As much as it was going to break my heart all over again to give her back, I knew it was the most fair thing.
Dezi was watching me as I fought with myself and my memories, and he must have picked up on something because he was turning and walking back to my kitchen.
“I got everything you could possibly need for her for, like, six months. Food. Snacks. Toys. Litter. Enrichment puzzles. Whatever the fuck that is,” he rattled off items as he pulled them out of the bags and set them on my counter. “Oh, some vitamins. Bowls for food and water, but the water one is set down on that mat I brought as well,” he said, nodding over toward it. “And her bed is by your chair,” he added. “I even picked her up a cute as fuck sweater in case she gets chilly,” he told me, holding up the baby pink, fuzzy pet hoodie.
And, damn him, I could just picture her in it. Even just the mental image had my heart squeezing in my chest again.
“She is also signed up for a piggy box subscription.”
“A… what?” I asked.
“A piggy box. They ship a bunch of the essentials and treats right to your door.”
“I can’t get packages here for a pig box,” I insisted, though even I heard my objection shift away from him just taking her away again, and toward needing to keep her a secret.
“That’s the beauty of it. It is coming to the clubhouse. Which means you have to bring her to come visit with her father at least once a month. It’s a flawless plan,” he insisted.
Oh, I was sure I could find at least a dozen flaws with it. The thing was, I just… wasn’t looking for them.
“For the record, this was insane,” I told him.
“Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“No? It sounded like one to me,” he told me.
“That’s because you only hear what you want to hear.”
“That might have something to do with it,” he agreed, smirking. “So,” he said, cocking his head to the side, shooting me a boyish little smile. “Friends?”
“Is that what we are?” I asked. “I’m not really someone who has friends.”
“Fuck buddies it is then. Do you want me naked up in the bed, in the shower, or right here in the living room?” he asked. “We can tell Rosita to close her eyes. She doesn’t need to be scarred for life.”
“And on that note,” I said, smiling because the bastard was too charming for either of our good. “I need to get Rosita settled in. And you need to sneak off of the grounds again.”
“The security here sucks, by the way,” he said, making his way to the door without a fight, making me think the man had other plans up his sleeve because I didn’t think it was in his nature to give up so easily.
“I will make sure to let them know. Any particular corner to tell them to look out for a heavily tattooed biker smuggling in small animals?”
“Listen, Rosie baby,” he said, reaching out to pet her little ear, making her let out those little grunting noises again. “Don’t listen to the lies your mother tells you about me. Except when she laments for hours on end about how devilishly good-looking I am, of course.”
“Yes, that will happen frequently,” I said, tone dry.
“I know. I know it will,” he said, making his way out of the door.