“Why don’t you go to bed?” Armie watched her with critical concern. “I’ll look after the dogs for a while.”
“Don’t be silly.” Armie surely had better things to do than babysit dogs he didn’t know. “I can handle things.”
Cocking a brow, Armie grinned at her. “Know what I think?”
“No doubt something nasty and sexual that I shouldn’t hear.”
He laughed. “I think you’re trying to keep up with fighters who are in prime condition. A lost effort, hon. Go, crash. You’ve earned it.”
That last comment made her wonder. “Earned it how?”
“Stack told me about the car wreck, his mom, his sis and fucking Phil.”
Rolling her eyes over that continued awful nickname for Stack’s brother-in-law, she copped an attitude-ridden pose. “So, is Stack crashing?”
Armie repeated, “Prime-condition fighter.” He knuckled her chin. “There’s no comparison.”
“Okay, yes, I’m tired.” Why not admit it? “But I’m not a wimp, so I’m not going to shirk my duty.”
“Caring for his sis’s dogs is now your duty?”
“I offered, so, yes.” And whenever she offered, she took it seriously.
Armie was about to say more when another knock sounded on the door. They both looked, Armie frowned, then almost got jerked off his feet when the dogs went manic all over again.
Vanity stepped around them and opened the door.
Leese, Brand and Miles stood there.
“Wow,” she said, eyeing each of them in turn. “Was there a casting call for certified studs that I somehow missed?”
The men all grinned at her.
Ducking his face, Leese ran a hand over his unruly black hair. Sunshine reflected off the inky depths and also highlighted a few dark bruises that contrasted with the paleness of his striking blue eyes.
Vanity knew him better than most of the others; as she’d told Stack, Leese was her wingman, aiding and abetting when she needed to dodge interested men.
Brand elbowed Miles, asking in a stage whisper, “Is she saying we’re studs?”
Rubbing his ribs and scowling, Miles said, “If she is, I’ll add it to my résumé. Endorsed by Vanity Baker. That has to carry some clout, right?”
“Studs,” she repeated. “And also insane.” Unlike Leese and Armie, who were light heavyweights, Miles and Brand were thicker heavyweights, each with dark brown hair. The difference, at least to Vanity, was in their eyes. Miles had vivid green eyes, and Brand’s were the darkest she’d ever seen.
Because she liked all of them, she held the door open. “Come on in.”
As they entered, they saw Armie holding back the dogs.
There was a moment of surprise before Armie said, “What are you guys doing here?” and the guys said almost in unison, “We thought she was alone.”
Scowling, Armie turned the dogs loose, and the guys got slathered in wet doggy tongues and unrestrained love.
Laughing, Vanity separated herself from the chaos, going to the couch to sit with a deep sigh. It felt good to be off her feet, but now a steady throbbing started in her temples.
Around the raucous noise, she asked, “Did Stack send you guys, too?”
Studying her with concern, Leese came to stand over her. “I came to check on you.” Two fingers beneath her chin lifted her face, then turned it side to side. “Mutt and Jeff just decided to trail along.”
Miles settled the matter of jumping dogs by lifting Norwood into his arms. The dog looked momentarily shocked, then joyous as he rolled to his back to be cradled like a baby.
Laughing, Miles strode over and took a seat beside her. “We’re all heading to Brand’s to watch the game.”
“Game?”
They gave her appalled stares. “Football,” Armie finally explained.
Copying Miles, Brand lifted Maggie and joined them. “Bengals are playing the Steelers.”
“So?”
Again they all stared at her.
Vanity shook her head and, around a yawn, muttered, “Never mind. I don’t even care.”
Leese crossed his arms. “You need to get some sleep.”
“Exactly what I was telling her.” Now that Armie didn’t have to hold on to the dogs, he sat down and propped up his feet on the coffee table.
Brand shoved him. “Idiot. She decorates. You can’t do that here.”
Muffling a laugh, Vanity said, “It’s okay.” Yes, she had some decorative items on her coffee table, but she wanted visitors to be comfortable.
“Don’t be silly.” Armie surely had better things to do than babysit dogs he didn’t know. “I can handle things.”
Cocking a brow, Armie grinned at her. “Know what I think?”
“No doubt something nasty and sexual that I shouldn’t hear.”
He laughed. “I think you’re trying to keep up with fighters who are in prime condition. A lost effort, hon. Go, crash. You’ve earned it.”
That last comment made her wonder. “Earned it how?”
“Stack told me about the car wreck, his mom, his sis and fucking Phil.”
Rolling her eyes over that continued awful nickname for Stack’s brother-in-law, she copped an attitude-ridden pose. “So, is Stack crashing?”
Armie repeated, “Prime-condition fighter.” He knuckled her chin. “There’s no comparison.”
“Okay, yes, I’m tired.” Why not admit it? “But I’m not a wimp, so I’m not going to shirk my duty.”
“Caring for his sis’s dogs is now your duty?”
“I offered, so, yes.” And whenever she offered, she took it seriously.
Armie was about to say more when another knock sounded on the door. They both looked, Armie frowned, then almost got jerked off his feet when the dogs went manic all over again.
Vanity stepped around them and opened the door.
Leese, Brand and Miles stood there.
“Wow,” she said, eyeing each of them in turn. “Was there a casting call for certified studs that I somehow missed?”
The men all grinned at her.
Ducking his face, Leese ran a hand over his unruly black hair. Sunshine reflected off the inky depths and also highlighted a few dark bruises that contrasted with the paleness of his striking blue eyes.
Vanity knew him better than most of the others; as she’d told Stack, Leese was her wingman, aiding and abetting when she needed to dodge interested men.
Brand elbowed Miles, asking in a stage whisper, “Is she saying we’re studs?”
Rubbing his ribs and scowling, Miles said, “If she is, I’ll add it to my résumé. Endorsed by Vanity Baker. That has to carry some clout, right?”
“Studs,” she repeated. “And also insane.” Unlike Leese and Armie, who were light heavyweights, Miles and Brand were thicker heavyweights, each with dark brown hair. The difference, at least to Vanity, was in their eyes. Miles had vivid green eyes, and Brand’s were the darkest she’d ever seen.
Because she liked all of them, she held the door open. “Come on in.”
As they entered, they saw Armie holding back the dogs.
There was a moment of surprise before Armie said, “What are you guys doing here?” and the guys said almost in unison, “We thought she was alone.”
Scowling, Armie turned the dogs loose, and the guys got slathered in wet doggy tongues and unrestrained love.
Laughing, Vanity separated herself from the chaos, going to the couch to sit with a deep sigh. It felt good to be off her feet, but now a steady throbbing started in her temples.
Around the raucous noise, she asked, “Did Stack send you guys, too?”
Studying her with concern, Leese came to stand over her. “I came to check on you.” Two fingers beneath her chin lifted her face, then turned it side to side. “Mutt and Jeff just decided to trail along.”
Miles settled the matter of jumping dogs by lifting Norwood into his arms. The dog looked momentarily shocked, then joyous as he rolled to his back to be cradled like a baby.
Laughing, Miles strode over and took a seat beside her. “We’re all heading to Brand’s to watch the game.”
“Game?”
They gave her appalled stares. “Football,” Armie finally explained.
Copying Miles, Brand lifted Maggie and joined them. “Bengals are playing the Steelers.”
“So?”
Again they all stared at her.
Vanity shook her head and, around a yawn, muttered, “Never mind. I don’t even care.”
Leese crossed his arms. “You need to get some sleep.”
“Exactly what I was telling her.” Now that Armie didn’t have to hold on to the dogs, he sat down and propped up his feet on the coffee table.
Brand shoved him. “Idiot. She decorates. You can’t do that here.”
Muffling a laugh, Vanity said, “It’s okay.” Yes, she had some decorative items on her coffee table, but she wanted visitors to be comfortable.
