“Just can’t see you as a Star Wars fan...that’s all.” Gabriella unlocks her door and Mr. Pickles is the first to enter, not sparing us a second look while hightailing it somewhere up the stairs. “Huh. Usually, he’s whining for a treat right about now.”
“A treat?” We walk straight through the main living areas and into the kitchen where I place her bag with the few belongings she had at the hospital. “What kind of snacks do dogs eat?”
I’m playing along with her, taking the opening as it presents itself. And this is one of those instances because while I might not own a dog, I do understand the reward system for a trusted companion. Human or animal, it’s all the same, and you give to those that are truthful and deserving of your time and affection.
“Not a pet person?”
“I am, but not the conventional kind.” My answer piques her interest, and I can almost see the questions forming in her mind, but shake my head. “I’m still waiting for an answer, Miss Moore. Tit for tat is the only way I play.”
“You sly devil.” It’s a bit of a sneer, but I smirk at her veiled insult. So cute. “Fine. But I swear you asked for this, and I need some coffee first. Do you want a cup?”
“No, thank you.”
Green eyes give me a questioning look. “I didn’t see you eat or drink anything today.”
“That’s because I rose at seven and you slept in until late. My schedule can be quite rigid, and that includes eating.”
“Oh.” That’s all she says, but I can tell there’s more she wants to ask.
“Go ahead, sweetheart.” My words cause a small tinge of pink to blossom on her cheeks, and the color is lovely on her skin. I’d like to see it in other places—her perky ass being one of them. “I’ll answer any questions you may have.”
“Are you on some kind of special diet?”
“You can say that, but it’s more of a lifestyle change. The more organized I am in all aspects of my life, the more I accomplish.”
“A lifestyle?”
“Rise early, meals only during certain hours, and eight hours of sleep every night, no excuse.”
“Oh! You mean like fasting?”
“Yes.”
“Cool beans. Does it work?” Gabriella walks to the coffee machine and sets it up, grabbing a large cup from the cupboard with some design on the front. “The fasting, I mean. It was trending all over social media a few months back and I was pretty curious, but when it comes to food, I’m too weak to abstain if a chocolate cupcake was to appear before me.”
I shake my head, a chuckle slipping past my lips. “It’s like everything else in life. You struggle at first, and then it becomes second nature.”
“That’s true, but...”
She trails off as I walk toward her, stopping only when we’re face to face. Almost chest to chest. “Gabriella, answer my questions. What were you thinking about in the car that had you so lost inside your head?” I cup her face with my right hand, thumb caressing her jaw. “Are you in trouble? Do you need help?”
“It’s nothing like that...” she swallows hard, eyes becoming a slightly darker shade of green “...it’s silly, I swear.”
“Tell me.”
“Can’t a girl have secrets?”
“She can when I know it doesn’t involve her safety, Gabriella. That’s something I’ll never gamble on.”
“I have nightmares, Theodore.”
“Nightmares?”
“Yeah.” Again, she blushes while attempting to duck her head but I don’t allow her to. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about with me. Never with me.
“Go on, beautiful. I’m here to listen and will never judge you.”
Gabriella takes in a deep breath and nods, letting it out slowly after. Her eyes are on mine. “I’ve been having the craziest dreams for a year now and it’s always the same, or lately, a variation of it.” When I don’t say anything, she takes that as a sign to continue. “Same room. Same house. The same voice asking me questions or talking to me as if we know each other intimately, and yet, last night, nothing. Without taking my sleeping medication, I literally passed out and just slept, and Theodore, for the first time in a long time, I feel rested. Truly rested.”
“That’s a good thing.”
“That’s an amazing thing, and what I was thinking about on the drive.” Before I can reply, there’s a sudden crash upstairs and the sound of something heavy falling over. Those innocent eyes widen, and I take off before she can attempt to do the same. Mr. Pickles is barking, his little growls not intimidating in the least, but I’ll give the guy credit for bravado.
Footsteps follow me up the stairs and onto the landing, but before she can attempt to move past me, I place a hand on her stomach. “Wait here.”
“Are you crazy, that’s my dog and—”
“Gabriella, I’m not asking. We don’t know what’s in there, so wait here.” My voice comes out harsher than I intend, but the situation hits home for her. We don’t know what or who is here, and I’d rather she stay out here where it’s safe. “I’ll be back.”
“Don’t let anything happen to my dog.”
“He’ll always be safe with me.” When she gives me her nod, I follow the sound of her dogs bark inside the last room on this floor. His body’s half in the room and half out, his yips a little funny, but I understand once I’m at the door. “Oh, buddy. You’re in trouble now.”
The culprit is none other than her dog and a paint can, the latter splattered all over the floor of what looks to be her home studio. The shade is bright blue and has stained him, leaving little paw prints on the wood and when she steps beside me, I feel bad for him.
“Mr. Pickles!” she yells out, causing him to stop and look up with the most pathetic eyes I’ve ever seen on an animal. “What did I tell you about touching my experiment jar? This is the third time, dude, and now it’s bath time before a timeout.”
And bath time sets him off, the little shit running off and disappearing down the hall and into another room.
