Troublemaker by Linda Howard Read Free Book Online

“Kenny Michaels, huh? He’s kind of cute.” And he was, in a construction, hammer-hanging-from-a-loop-on-his-pants kind of way. Not tall, but not short, a muscular kind of stocky. Divorced, late thirties, one son who was a senior in high school. She didn’t know anything bad about him, which meant there probably wasn’t anything bad to know.
    â€œOf course. Why else would I renovate my kitchen? And why am I eating ice cream?” Daina still looked perplexed, but she dug the spoon in and lifted a bite to her mouth. “Not that I’m complaining, but I just had dessert at lunch.”
    â€œIt helps sober you up.”
    Daina’s eyes went wide. “No shit.” Awestruck, she lifted the carton and stared at it again. “A legitimate reason for eating ice cream? There is a God!”
    At that moment Tricks was evidently struck by the abrupt realization that someone in the room was eating, and it wasn’t her, because she surged to her feet and planted herself directly in front of Daina, her extravagantly plumy tail gently swishing, her dark gaze locked on the carton of ice cream.
    Daina froze with another bite halfway to her mouth. “Oh my God,” she breathed, as motionless as if she were being confronted by a cobra rather than a golden retriever. “What do I do?”
    Bo hid her amusement. “Tell her no. She can’t have ice cream.”
    â€œNo?” Daina said weakly, her tone of voice making it more of a question than a statement. Tricks sensed an advantage and moved closer, laying her head on Daina’s knee and giving her the full, soulful stare that had turned rough men, much less a half-drunk friend, to putty in her paws.
    Bo sighed. You couldn’t give in to Tricks because she then concluded that if she just kept after you long enough, you’d eventually give in, and she was relentless in her efforts to get what she wanted. “Tricks, no,” she commanded. When Tricks didn’t move, she said, “Young lady, I said no .” She clapped her hands twice. “Go back to your bed right now.”
    Reluctantly, Tricks moved away, her expression as mutinous as that of a thwarted toddler, but she padded back to her bed and lay down with a huff . . . and with her back turned toward Bo to show her indignation.
    Bo barely swallowed a snort of laughter. Dealing with a canine diva—moreover, a very intelligent diva—was never boring and definitely kept her on her toes. She was the only person Tricks would obey when it didn’t suit her, which meant Bo pretty much had a constant companion. She didn’t mind; she adored her dog, though during that first tumultuous year she’d often felt like tearing out her own hair in frustration. As alpha as Tricks was, Bo had had to prove over and over that she was even more alpha, and only the fact that she controlled the food had won the day.
    Daina hurriedly downed more ice cream. “She scares me,” she confessed.
    â€œYeah, that’s why you’re down on the floor playing with her so often.”
    â€œI didn’t say I don’t love her. I said she scares me. If she lived with me, I’d be her slave.”
    â€œProbably.” Reluctantly, Bo turned her attention back to the stack of papers on her desk. “Do you want to take a nap, or do you want to interrupt me while I’m trying to wade through this paperwork?”
    â€œAnything I can help you with? Read reports and give you the gist of them so you can put your initials at the bottom?”
    â€œYou’re tipsy. Would your gists be reliable?”
    The coffeemaker was making the sputtering and spitting noises that signaled it was near the end of its process, so she poured some into a polystyrene cup and pushed it toward Daina. Daina said, “I like sugar and cream in my coffee.”
    So did Bo, but somehow the supplies of both tended to disappear and she’d learned to soldier on without