Page 2 of Quid Pro Beau

My brother paces the small length of the living room. Piglet, Temple’s dog paces with him. It’s ridiculously cute, but I can’t even find it in me to laugh at the moment. “Do you want me to kill him?” Flynn asks. “I can make it look like an accident.”

“No,” I say with a shake of my head. “He’s not worth it. He went back to his wife. She’s pregnant too, it seems. He gave me a lump sum amount of cash for a trust fund for the baby, signed off on his parental rights, and paid for me to come back home.”

“You don’t worry about a thing,” Temple says, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “We’ve got you.”

And that’s how I ended up living in this charming new town. The downtown square is full of people today. Not quite a full-blown festival, but there are still booths and other things set up near the shops and eateries in town. Dog Days, is what they’re calling it, and the proceeds raised today go to the non-profit Great Dane’s Dog Sanctuary. Since Flynn works there with his former Ranger buddies, I know it’s a great organization.

I haven’t been out there yet, but I keep meaning to go. I was assured—or rather Flynn was assured—that they would find a job for me if I needed one. I still have leftover funds that Timothy gave me, and frankly, I have no qualms about living off of them for the time being. What an asshat!

It seems the entire town has come out in support today and there are people everywhere. Couples with babies in strollers and toddlers riding high on daddies’ shoulders fill the streets. Some of them have dogs on leashes. They’re buying dog themed everything. Of course there are some treats specifically for dogs, but most are for humans.

Like the gourmet ice cream sandwich I had that was shaped like a bone. It was delicious, so I don’t much care what it looked like. I got tired of introducing myself about twenty minutes ago. Don’t get me wrong, everyone is genuinely friendly, and that’s amazing, and I truly feel welcomed. But I needed to step away.

So I’m currently across the street in the beautiful green park that surrounds the old county courthouse. It’s one of those massive, three-story limestone courthouses you see on postcards. It’s surrounded by live oaks with trunks as big around as whiskey barrels and limbs that dip gracefully toward the ground and practically beg to be climbed by children. There’s a gazebo in the center of the park where someone is picking away on an acoustic guitar. There are giggling children, laughing couples, and even a couple of old codgers playing dominos.

Everything is so perfect, so picturesque, so mother-fricking charming, I half wonder if I’ve stumbled into a simulation curtesy of the Matrix. One of those first ones that Agent Smith said they made too perfect and the human brain just automatically rejected.

Everything is so perfect.

Except me.

Here I am, sitting in the shade of one of trees, quietly hating everyone else’s effortless joy and trying not to burst into tears.

Normally, I enjoy being alone. I relish my solitude. But not now. Now, when I’m by myself, my brain is on a hamster wheel of all the mistakes I made while living in London.

Like how I ended up pregnant by a man who conveniently forgot to mention he had a wife and two kids, with another on the way. I pluck up a piece of grass and shred it with my nails, so exhausted from the mental beatdown I give myself on a daily basis.

The truth is, yes, I feel like a complete moron for believing all of Timothy’s lies. I fell fast and hard for his pretty face and even prettier words. I’m not sad I’m pregnant. It’s not a perfect situation considering I’m single and likely always will be. But I at least had the common sense to get knocked up by a rich guy who basically set up a fund that will allow my kiddo to want for virtually nothing.

Okay, that had nothing to do with common sense. Just luck. Maybe. I don’t know.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement. Then there’s a big dog with mismatched eyes—one blue and one brown—staring at me. He has no leash trailing behind him as he walks up and lays down at my side.

“Well, hello there,” I say to him.

His eyes watch me as I lean forward and give him my hand to sniff. “I’m Daisy. Who might you be?” With a canine huff, he plops his head on my legs.

“You’re just the sweetest, aren’t you? How did you know I needed a friend today?” I scratch him between the ears, and he makes one of those satisfied doggy noises.

“I don’t know about you, but I’ve made a real mess of my life lately. I had this plan, ya know? I was supposed to be in England, finishing my certification, doing something meaningful with music therapy. Helping people heal. Instead, I’m back in Texas, freshly heartbroken, pregnant, and relatively homeless.

The dog’s eyebrows quirk as I speak.

“And now my big brother and my best friend are all in love. They’re so adorable. Somehow I’ve become the third wheel in my own dumb life.”

I scratch the pup between his furry ears. His tongue lolls to the side. You’re just the bestest boy,” I whisper. “Wanna come home with me?”

“Yes,” says a low, amused voice behind me. “I’d very much like to go home with you.”

I startle, my heart skydiving straight into my belly. The dog doesn’t move. I turn my head to see the origin of the voice and find… gah… I don’t even know how to describe him.

Tall, dark and handsome doesn’t do this man justice. Not only that, he’s not exactly dark. I’d guess that the hair hiding beneath his backwards ballcap—why is that so damn sexy?—is a dark or dirty blond. Golden-brown eyes meet mine and I swear something inside me tightens. My uterus? My heart? Nope, we do not care about tightening body parts.

Do not look directly at the pretty man. Look away. Focus on the dog.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” I say, managing more sass than I actually feel.

The man crouches beside me, though admittedly not too close. “I realize. But listen, I’d do whatever it takes to get you to call me your bestest boy.”