After the Climb (River Rain #1) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,46

of her suitcase,” she remarked.

Duncan grinned.

The cacophony began, heralding the imminent arrival of “the hounds” which reminded him.

“Baby, Rocco’s got some strength. Missing his front leg, he’s developed muscle in a way other dogs don’t. It can be surprising. Be aware. Yeah?”

She nodded quickly, turned, and then he lost her.

Because she squatted so low, he could only see the top of her head.

“Oh, my goodness. Oh, my darlings. Look at you precious beings,” she cooed.

Shasta barked her greeting.

Killer scooted and whirled around.

And as suspected, Rocco tackled her flat on her ass.

She let out a cry and started giggling.

Duncan moved positions to get a better view.

They were all over her.

“You’re not going to have any makeup left, Mother, if you keep letting them kiss you like that,” Chloe warned.

Gen made not one move to stop them from licking her. “If I need to, I can touch up using your things.”

“You are forbidden to get dog saliva residue in my Chanel cosmetics.”

“I’ll buy you more.”

“Well, okay then,” Chloe huffed.

Christ.

He loved these two.

He loved them.

He didn’t question it; he just knew it.

With only half an hour in their combined presence, he knew to his gut and bones, Genny, the mother, and Chloe, her daughter had his love until the day he died.

And he suddenly wished he had daughters and wondered what Sasha was like.

But he refused to dwell on that.

“Well?” Chloe demanded.

Of him.

“Sorry?” he asked her.

She pointed at her mom. “Are you not going to rescue her from canine carnage, the canines perpetrating the carnage being yours?”

Duncan didn’t get a shot to answer.

Genny did.

“Stop being dramatic.”

“For the last time, that’s never going to happen!” Chloe announced on an outraged cry. “Now, I’m leaving. I can witness this no longer.”

On that, she stomped to the island, nabbed her bag, then stomped toward the door to the garage, smacking her leg and calling, “Come here. Come to Auntie Chloe. Come say goodbye. I’m going to be gone for a while, and you’re going to miss me because I’m pretty sure Daddy doesn’t give you full turkey sausage patties as treats.”

Jesus.

She was right.

On two counts.

One, he did not do that.

And two, heading toward the door to the garage, so the dogs knew she was departing, they defected the woman who was a human-size dog toy on the floor for the woman who gave them turkey sausage as treats.

Duncan went to Genny and helped her up.

“Ta ta, mon ami et ma jolie maman. I’ll text before I head back. Be good,” Chloe called.

Then she was gone.

The dogs stared at the door in confusion.

“Is my makeup a mess?”

Duncan looked from his dogs to his Genny.

There was a smudge of black at the corner of her left eye, but otherwise, she’d come out unscathed.

“Not bad, though I don’t know how important it is to you, so the powder room is through there.”

He pointed across the room.

“Be back,” she murmured, hustling that way.

The dogs chased after her.

“Stop!” he ordered. “Enough!”

They skidded, turned and raced to him.

And when they arrived at him, he nearly went down.

Gage was petitioning for another one.

Duncan’s youngest had some asinine argument about how having five pets upset the balance of the universe because the number needed to be even. He was hoping for a cat, but Sully, who’d bought into this shit, was pushing for another dog.

Duncan’s response was, “When you flunk out of U of A, you can get another animal because you’ll be around to feed them and take care of them as well as the horses, chickens, and anything else I make you do to be all over your ass for flunking out of college.”

That ended the discussion.

But right then, he gave orders for the ones he had to cool it, which Shasta and Rocco did, but Killer totally ignored him, and he ignored his baby girl doing that.

He then heard a noise coming from the garage and was still smiling when Genny came out of the bathroom.

“Now what’s amusing you?” she asked on her way over.

“Your daughter took my car.”

She stopped dead in the middle of the room, arched far back with her hands clenched at her chest, and called to God, “Please, please let there be a partner out there who can handle the handful she is or make her a woman who is perfectly fine in her own company for eternity. Please.”

“Babe?” he called.

She looked his way.

“That sedation you considered for your ex?”

She nodded.

“It wasn’t because she’s a handful. It was because she’s a handful. He knows that. She’s the