He was strong and solid and powerful, she thought hazily. Everything she needed from a man. When he tightened his hold, she parted her lips and welcomed him inside.
Want filled her. Her br**sts swelled in anticipation of his touch. Her belly throbbed in an ancient rhythm that made her want to squirm to get closer. When he started backing her toward the sofa, she went willingly.
Her legs had barely bumped against the cushions when she heard something in the background. An insistent knocking.
“The pizza guy,” she mumbled against Finn’s mouth.
“Let him get his own girl.”
She laughed. “I have to pay him.”
Finn straightened. “I’ll get it.”
He released her and walked toward the front door.
When his back was turned, she hurried out of the living room and down the short hall to her bedroom. Seconds later, she was barefoot, and the small lamp by her bed was on. Finn appeared in the doorway.
“Is this your way of telling me you’re not all that hungry?” he asked.
She tilted her head. “I am. Just not for pizza.”
His slow, sexy smile made her toes curl.
“You’re my kind of girl,” he told her as he crossed to her.
“I’ll bet you say that to all the women.”
“Only you,” he whispered, right before he kissed her.
“CHARLIE IS BLOND to the bone,” Montana said. “He’s the sweetest guy, but I worry he’s not bright enough to get into the program.”
“When will you know for sure?” Dakota asked.
“Max will have a pretty good idea when Charlie is about six months old. Until then, I’ll teach him the basics and we’ll see how that goes.” Montana rolled onto her side and rubbed Charlie’s belly. “But you love everybody, don’t you, big guy?”
The big guy in question was a three-month-old yellow Lab puppy. Charlie had feet the size of softballs. He was not going to be petite by anyone’s definition.
“What happens to him if he doesn’t make it into the program?” Nevada asked.
“He’s given up for adoption. Max’s dogs are bred to be family friendly, so there’s always a waiting list. Charlie will find a good home. I’d just hate to see him go. He would have been the first dog I trained from birth. Well, six weeks. They can’t do much when their eyes are still closed.”
The three sisters lay stretched out on blankets in Montana’s backyard. It was a warm Saturday afternoon. Un-seasonable for this time of year and they were going to be back in the fifties tomorrow. Two other dogs played in the yard. An apricot-colored toy poodle named Cece and a labradoodle named Buddy sniffed in the grass and chased butterflies.
“I don’t get the poodle,” Nevada said. “Isn’t she kind of small?”
“Cece is very well trained,” Montana told her. “She works with really sick kids. Because she’s so small, she can sit on their beds. A lot of times the kids aren’t even strong enough to pet her. She sits close or curls up next to them. Having her there makes them feel better. Being a poodle, she doesn’t shed like other dogs. She gets bathed before going to the hospital and carried in so she doesn’t pick up germs on her feet. That means she can go into some of the special wards.”
Dakota sat up. “Is that what you do with your day? Take dogs to visit sick children?”
“Sometimes. There are dogs that visit nursing homes. I take them there. And I spend part of the day training. The older dogs don’t need much instruction, but the younger ones get regular reinforcement. The puppies take a lot of time. And I’m working on the reading program.”
When Montana had said she was going to start working with therapy dogs, Dakota hadn’t realized how much was involved. “You’re very dedicated to your work.”
Montana rolled onto her back, supporting herself on her elbows. “I think I’ve found what I’m supposed to be doing. You two have known for a long time, which is great for you but left me feeling inadequate. I’ll never get rich doing this, but that’s okay. I love the dogs, I love working with people. When you’re lonely, having someone love you is really important. Even if that someone is just a dog.”
Nevada sat up. “Now I feel like a slacker. All I do is design things.”
“Houses,” Montana said. “Everyone needs somewhere to live.”
“I don’t design houses. I work on remodels or I tweak existing designs.”
Dakota looked at her sister. Nevada had always wanted to be an engineer. Was she regretting that decision now? “Don’t you like working for Ethan?”
“I don’t dislike it. It’s just…” Nevada drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. “Do you know I’ve never applied for a job? Sure, I had part-time jobs in high school and college, but I mean a real job. Once I chose engineering, everyone assumed I’d go to work for Ethan. I graduated and showed up at his office the next day. I didn’t have to prove myself.”
“Just because it was nepotistic, doesn’t mean you aren’t doing a good job,” Dakota told her. “Ethan wouldn’t keep you around if he didn’t want you working there.”