Feliz Naughty Dog - Roxanne St. Claire Page 0,14

“people” were female, under eighteen, and flipped their hair when they talked in sentences that sounded like questions even when they weren’t. But to his credit, Lucas didn’t flirt back and was super protective of Tor. Having been raised in a big family that built its whole business around dogs, Pru gave him props for that.

And for his valiant effort to save her glitter-covered list of the most creative ideas for Random Acts of Christmas Kindness.

“Can you read any of it?” he asked as Pru studied what was left on the list she’d prepared for her original teammates.

“Some,” she said, squinting at the list. “We were going to start our day by going into my aunt’s dog treat store, buy a bunch of treats, and hand them out in Bushrod Square. But now we’re here, so…”

“I know there’s a pet store here, and they have puppies in kennels. We could give them treats.”

“They probably won’t let you. Plus.” She made a face. “Who would buy their dog from a mall when there are a million rescues out there?”

“Mall dogs need homes, too, Pru,” he said with a little tease in his eyes. Actually, that spark of humor was always there, she’d noticed. Not at school, but here he seemed a lot less daunting.

“I take it Tor is a rescue.”

He nodded, reaching down to pet the dog who, for once, strode along between them without darting, dashing, or getting distracted. “From Florida.”

“Florida? How did you get him in California?”

“From…a friend.”

Oh, right, the ex-girlfriend. She recognized the vagueness in his tone every time he talked about her. “How did your friend get him in Florida?”

“She…” He swallowed, visibly tense. “She had to go there for a family thing and ended up coming back with Tor.” A smile threatened as though the memory touched him. “Then…” He took a slow breath and let it out like whatever was to follow caused him genuine agony.

“She had to give him up,” Pru helped when he didn’t seem like he could even finish the sentence.

“Yeah.” He turned away, looking hard at a Justice store as if bedazzled sweaters for preteens interested him. So Pru went digging for another topic.

“So, some Christmas Eve, huh?” she asked.

He shrugged, still looking away. “It’s fine.”

“My great-grannies are nuts, though.”

“I like them.” He turned to her now, that humor back. “I’m still confused, though. Are they both related to you?”

“Gramma Finnie is my mother’s grandmother. And she practically raised me, right along with my mother and Grannie Annie, who’s passed.”

“Finnie’s the one with the accent.”

“She’s from Ireland.”

“She’s a cool lady.”

The compliment warmed her. “She’s the best. She writes a hilarious little blog all about dogs and our family business and the town, and she embroiders pillows. Oh, and she can drink a truck driver under the table.”

“Really?” He snorted a laugh. “Sounds about right. And the other grandma?”

“Okay, I’ll explain it, but it’s complicated.”

He pinned that insane gaze on her, and suddenly Pru felt like she could recite the entire enormous three-branch family tree and he’d care. Was that possible? Bad boy Lucas Darling?

Who’da thunk it?

“My grandfather was a widower, and he got remarried to a woman who used to be Yiayia’s daughter-in-law.”

He frowned. “Oookay.”

“Except that this woman’s oldest son is also my grandfather’s son, because they used to date, and she got pregnant and…” She laughed at his incredulous face. “I’m losing you.”

“Kinda, but I don’t mind listening.” He angled his head so one of his locks of dark hair slipped over his forehead and kissed a brow.

Kissed? What the heck was wrong with her?

“Well, short version is it’s a huge family with a lot of add-ons,” she said quickly. “I have, like, twenty aunts and uncles, half a dozen cousins, and they all have a million dogs. And one Greek great-grandmother who somehow fits right in.”

“Sounds like fun.”

Really? He thought that? “It is. Like tonight, everyone will be together for Christmas Eve dinner, and then we’ll pile into Midnight Mass like the Irish and Greek armies. And…God, I need to shut up.”

He gave a soft laugh that seemed like it came from deep inside his chest. “No, if I look stunned, it’s just…wow. I don’t have anything like that.”

“Just your aunt here in Bitter Bark?” she guessed, somehow sensing that it would be very easy to make him turn away again. And she didn’t want that. She could stare into those eyes for the entire day.

“Watch out,” he said softly, snagging her jacket so she narrowly missed walking right