making room for the woman to join her. “The Call of the Wild.” She waggled the book at Scotch, taking care to keep her place with one finger.
Scotch chuckled and dropped into the vacated space. “Trying to get a dog’s eye view of an Alaskan winter?”
“Something like that.” She marked her page with a scrap of paper, setting the book down on the rough-hewn coffee table.
“While the story is historically accurate, don’t go basing the Iditarod on it. Modern dogs are way different.”
“Okay.” Sitting back, Lainey propped her feet on its edge, and turned to regard her roommate. “How’d it go on the day trip? Get any sponsors?”
“Investors only this time,” Scotch said. She turned on the couch until she faced Lainey, her legs stretched out along the floor beneath the woman’s feet. Frowning, Scotch stared at the ceiling in calculation, silently counting on the fingers of one hand. “I got enough booty money for all the dogs two times over.”
Lainey did the math. A buck per booty, four booties per dog, times sixteen dogs and doubled. “That’s not bad. Only about a thousand more to go.”
“Not bad at all considering it was all from the kids. They saw our website and began saving their allowances last year when their family planned a vacation up here.”
“Wow. That is impressive.”
Scotch stretched and yawned. “Yeah, they studied the Iditarod in school last year. I promised to list them as supporters on the website next time we update.”
Lainey watched her, a slight smile on her face. It would be so nice to cuddle with her. Maybe she could get a series of candid photos of Scotch sometime, something she could take with her when this assignment was over.
“What?”
Her grin widened at the suspicious look she received. She was always getting busted daydreaming. “How much more in donations do you think you’ll need to cover the costs of running the Iditarod this year?”
Scotch eyed her with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “Is this an interview question?”
“It could be.”
“I thought Don was the one doing the articles on me. You’re supposed to be reporting about your training instead.”
Lainey lifted her chin in slight defiance. “It’s still my gig; he wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for my initial pitch.” Her lips curved as she saw mischievousness reflected in Scotch’s demeanor. The confidence that originally drew Lainey seemed to emanate throughout the woman in every situation, even playfulness. It was quite a turn on.
“I’ll answer you if you answer a question for me.”
The glint in Scotch’s eye gave Lainey pause. “What's this? An Alaskan form of Truth or Dare?” she asked, hiding her wariness behind humor.
Scotch grinned. “Well, we could do that, too.”
Lainey had a moment of dizziness at the thought of playing Truth or Dare with the woman who filled her wet dreams. What a game that would be! Yowza! Forcing her overactive imagination down, Lainey said, “All right. A question for a question. I asked mine first.”
With a satisfied air, Scotch relaxed further into the couch. She draped one long arm across the back of it, not quite reaching Lainey’s head. “Technically, I’m set for the race. Figure it runs about ten grand after entry fees, gear replacement, food and freight. When you made the deal to train for the race, the money you brought covered both of us.”
“Yeah?” Lainey felt a sense of satisfaction.
“Yeah. This is a year of plenty for the kennel. The formula for running one is a buck fifty per dog per day. And we have almost a hundred dogs.”
“Have you done this before?” Lainey asked. “Taken on a rookie to train?”
Scotch grinned. “That’s two questions, and it’s my turn.”
Lainey held up her hands in mock surrender. “Fire away.”
“What’s it like to report from a war zone?”
“Oooh.” She could not help but wince, having not expected the query. ‘man, you shoot from the hip, don’t
Scotch chuckled and dropped into the vacated space. “Trying to get a dog’s eye view of an Alaskan winter?”
“Something like that.” She marked her page with a scrap of paper, setting the book down on the rough-hewn coffee table.
“While the story is historically accurate, don’t go basing the Iditarod on it. Modern dogs are way different.”
“Okay.” Sitting back, Lainey propped her feet on its edge, and turned to regard her roommate. “How’d it go on the day trip? Get any sponsors?”
“Investors only this time,” Scotch said. She turned on the couch until she faced Lainey, her legs stretched out along the floor beneath the woman’s feet. Frowning, Scotch stared at the ceiling in calculation, silently counting on the fingers of one hand. “I got enough booty money for all the dogs two times over.”
Lainey did the math. A buck per booty, four booties per dog, times sixteen dogs and doubled. “That’s not bad. Only about a thousand more to go.”
“Not bad at all considering it was all from the kids. They saw our website and began saving their allowances last year when their family planned a vacation up here.”
“Wow. That is impressive.”
Scotch stretched and yawned. “Yeah, they studied the Iditarod in school last year. I promised to list them as supporters on the website next time we update.”
Lainey watched her, a slight smile on her face. It would be so nice to cuddle with her. Maybe she could get a series of candid photos of Scotch sometime, something she could take with her when this assignment was over.
“What?”
Her grin widened at the suspicious look she received. She was always getting busted daydreaming. “How much more in donations do you think you’ll need to cover the costs of running the Iditarod this year?”
Scotch eyed her with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “Is this an interview question?”
“It could be.”
“I thought Don was the one doing the articles on me. You’re supposed to be reporting about your training instead.”
Lainey lifted her chin in slight defiance. “It’s still my gig; he wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for my initial pitch.” Her lips curved as she saw mischievousness reflected in Scotch’s demeanor. The confidence that originally drew Lainey seemed to emanate throughout the woman in every situation, even playfulness. It was quite a turn on.
“I’ll answer you if you answer a question for me.”
The glint in Scotch’s eye gave Lainey pause. “What's this? An Alaskan form of Truth or Dare?” she asked, hiding her wariness behind humor.
Scotch grinned. “Well, we could do that, too.”
Lainey had a moment of dizziness at the thought of playing Truth or Dare with the woman who filled her wet dreams. What a game that would be! Yowza! Forcing her overactive imagination down, Lainey said, “All right. A question for a question. I asked mine first.”
With a satisfied air, Scotch relaxed further into the couch. She draped one long arm across the back of it, not quite reaching Lainey’s head. “Technically, I’m set for the race. Figure it runs about ten grand after entry fees, gear replacement, food and freight. When you made the deal to train for the race, the money you brought covered both of us.”
“Yeah?” Lainey felt a sense of satisfaction.
“Yeah. This is a year of plenty for the kennel. The formula for running one is a buck fifty per dog per day. And we have almost a hundred dogs.”
“Have you done this before?” Lainey asked. “Taken on a rookie to train?”
Scotch grinned. “That’s two questions, and it’s my turn.”
Lainey held up her hands in mock surrender. “Fire away.”
“What’s it like to report from a war zone?”
“Oooh.” She could not help but wince, having not expected the query. ‘man, you shoot from the hip, don’t
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