her over.
It took her about twenty minutes to give them all the loving they craved before they calmed down, but Livvy didn’t begrudge them any of it. Each one was a rescue and still had abandonment issues no matter how much she tried to alleviate them, but she could relate, so she gave them all the attention she wished someone had given her.
Sean could call them her circus, Merriweather could spin in her grave, but Livvy didn’t mind whatever chaos the dogs caused. They were her family, such as it was, and she loved each one.
Leading the now-behaved pack down the stairs, she bit her lip at the look of horror on Sean’s face.
“Please tell me they’re going to sleep in the barn, too.”
She shook her head.
“The kitchen?”
“On that hard floor? Are you serious?”
He turned the color of his shirt. “Where?”
“Which room haven’t you cleaned down here?”
“They’ve all been cleaned.”
Darn. She didn’t want to purposely ruin all his hard work, but the dogs needed a place to sleep.
“My room.” Sure, why not? It’s where they’d slept at the co-op. The only difference now being that they’d share a king-sized bed instead of a double. Winners all around.
Sean just shook his head. “You know what they say about lying down with dogs, right?”
“My dogs don’t have fleas.”
“Let’s keep it that way. It’s going to be a big enough job fumigating that living room as it is.”
She grabbed her satchel off the foyer table and slung the strap over her shoulder, wincing as the extra weight banged against her ribs. “How’s the barn coming? Anything interesting in the boxes?”
“It’s coming. Slowly. Lots of dishes, knick-knacks, linens . . . So far there’s enough to redo half the bedrooms in this place and there might be enough furniture to replace the goats’ chew toys. I’ve cleared just enough room for the alpacas so far. With the way Rhett’s been after Scarlett, I don’t think he’ll complain about them getting a room to themselves. I sure won’t.”
Livvy couldn’t help it; she laughed at Sean’s disgruntled look. But she had to hand it to the guy; he was being a good sport for a non-animal person.
Sean raised his eyebrow in that maddeningly sexy way of his, but it only made her laugh harder. Which was the perfect thing to dismantle the utter awareness she had of him.
Livvy hunched down and picked up Georgia, the pug mix, a clear cover-up for where her thoughts should not go. She was way too aware of the man. “I, um, had an interesting day.”
“Oh?” Sean held out his hand. “Here, let me carry that for you.”
She paused for a moment, but then handed over Georgia. If the guy was asking—
“Not the dog, Livvy. Your sack. I’ll let you keep the dog.”
“Oh. Right.” She jostled Georgia—who wheezed her displeasure as she was wont to do when it came to movement of any kind—and worked the bag off her shoulder.
Sean swung it onto his and headed toward the study. “Have any luck?”
“Yes, actually. The Latin was an official document from what I could gather. A copy, of course. I’m sure Merriweather has the original locked up in an airtight vault.”
“What’d it say?”
To his credit, he didn’t say a word when he stepped back to let her pass and the dogs ran through first, dog hair soon marring the polished leather Chesterfield sofa. He did, however, groan when Davy popped one of the brass nail heads free from the wingback chair on his second attempt to jump onto it. The miniature poodle looked mighty pleased with himself as he curled around, even growling at Petra, his favorite, when she came over and licked his ear.
Livvy tapped the blotter on the desk as she walked around it to set Georgia in the executive chair behind it. “You can put the satchel down here. I’ll show you what I came up with.”
The dogs behaved themselves while Livvy explained her rough translation and the copies of similar documents she’d found. She pulled
It took her about twenty minutes to give them all the loving they craved before they calmed down, but Livvy didn’t begrudge them any of it. Each one was a rescue and still had abandonment issues no matter how much she tried to alleviate them, but she could relate, so she gave them all the attention she wished someone had given her.
Sean could call them her circus, Merriweather could spin in her grave, but Livvy didn’t mind whatever chaos the dogs caused. They were her family, such as it was, and she loved each one.
Leading the now-behaved pack down the stairs, she bit her lip at the look of horror on Sean’s face.
“Please tell me they’re going to sleep in the barn, too.”
She shook her head.
“The kitchen?”
“On that hard floor? Are you serious?”
He turned the color of his shirt. “Where?”
“Which room haven’t you cleaned down here?”
“They’ve all been cleaned.”
Darn. She didn’t want to purposely ruin all his hard work, but the dogs needed a place to sleep.
“My room.” Sure, why not? It’s where they’d slept at the co-op. The only difference now being that they’d share a king-sized bed instead of a double. Winners all around.
Sean just shook his head. “You know what they say about lying down with dogs, right?”
“My dogs don’t have fleas.”
“Let’s keep it that way. It’s going to be a big enough job fumigating that living room as it is.”
She grabbed her satchel off the foyer table and slung the strap over her shoulder, wincing as the extra weight banged against her ribs. “How’s the barn coming? Anything interesting in the boxes?”
“It’s coming. Slowly. Lots of dishes, knick-knacks, linens . . . So far there’s enough to redo half the bedrooms in this place and there might be enough furniture to replace the goats’ chew toys. I’ve cleared just enough room for the alpacas so far. With the way Rhett’s been after Scarlett, I don’t think he’ll complain about them getting a room to themselves. I sure won’t.”
Livvy couldn’t help it; she laughed at Sean’s disgruntled look. But she had to hand it to the guy; he was being a good sport for a non-animal person.
Sean raised his eyebrow in that maddeningly sexy way of his, but it only made her laugh harder. Which was the perfect thing to dismantle the utter awareness she had of him.
Livvy hunched down and picked up Georgia, the pug mix, a clear cover-up for where her thoughts should not go. She was way too aware of the man. “I, um, had an interesting day.”
“Oh?” Sean held out his hand. “Here, let me carry that for you.”
She paused for a moment, but then handed over Georgia. If the guy was asking—
“Not the dog, Livvy. Your sack. I’ll let you keep the dog.”
“Oh. Right.” She jostled Georgia—who wheezed her displeasure as she was wont to do when it came to movement of any kind—and worked the bag off her shoulder.
Sean swung it onto his and headed toward the study. “Have any luck?”
“Yes, actually. The Latin was an official document from what I could gather. A copy, of course. I’m sure Merriweather has the original locked up in an airtight vault.”
“What’d it say?”
To his credit, he didn’t say a word when he stepped back to let her pass and the dogs ran through first, dog hair soon marring the polished leather Chesterfield sofa. He did, however, groan when Davy popped one of the brass nail heads free from the wingback chair on his second attempt to jump onto it. The miniature poodle looked mighty pleased with himself as he curled around, even growling at Petra, his favorite, when she came over and licked his ear.
Livvy tapped the blotter on the desk as she walked around it to set Georgia in the executive chair behind it. “You can put the satchel down here. I’ll show you what I came up with.”
The dogs behaved themselves while Livvy explained her rough translation and the copies of similar documents she’d found. She pulled
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