Gray Back Alpha Bear(19)

Peanut Butter yipped from his place nestled in Jason’s arm. Gia skidded to a stop on the gravel. Jason was leaned against the new porch railing, holding an animal she almost didn’t recognize. Someone had shaved Peanut Butter’s luxurious locks off.

“What did you do?” she yelled, blasting her shoes against the porch stairs as she charged Jason.

He hunched in on himself as if her shrill voice hurt his ears. “He was hot and ugly,” Jason said, holding out the dog for her. “Creed shaved him.”

“Oh my gosh,” she murmured. Peanut Butter was shaved from head to tail except for a longer strip of fur going up his back and head. “Did you give him a mohawk?” She was yelling again. “Peanut Butter is a show quality dog, and it took years to grow his hair out and get it just right.”

“Peanut Butter?” Jason asked, looking aghast. “LOL, no.”

“You aren’t supposed to say LOL out loud, you idiot.”

“We’ve renamed him Spike,” Jason said, ignoring her. “He has a dick, Gia. You had a pink rubber banded bow in his hair, and he smelled like a blueberry patch.” He jammed his finger at her. “That’s not okay.”

But Peanut Butter was her fur baby, and she could do what she pleased. And she was really freaking tired of people dictating her life. She was twenty-four and had only just gotten out from her parents, and now she couldn’t choose a hairstyle for her dog?

With a shriek in her throat, she lunged at Jason, but Creed’s immovable grasp held her back. “Whoa,” he murmured.

Jason looked amused, and she wanted to claw that stupid grin off his face.

“And you!” she said, turning her anger on Creed. “You shaved my dog without my permission. My. Dog. How can I trust you around our kid if you can’t even take care of a dog for a day?” She shoved off his chest, hormone rage peaking. He’d messed with her momma instincts. Oh, she could just kick him! Repeatedly with spiked heels.

She cuddled Peanut Butter close and shoved the door open, then slammed it. Only it was anti-climactic because the door didn’t shut well and was made of cheap wood, so it made a soft thud.

“Come on, girl, you can do better than that,” Jason said from outside. She could practically hear the smile in his voice.

She set Peanut Butter down and tossed her bag of clothes, then slammed the door with both hands. Door still didn’t want to shut. With a battle scream, she opened it and closed it three times before she kicked it, gave up, and stomped into the bedroom crying.

A mouse skittered across the floor, and she yelled again as she sprinted for the bed. “Peanut Butter! Save yourself!” she sobbed as the dog watched the little rodent walk right by him.

Creed appeared in the doorway, arms crossed as he leaned against the frame. The mouse hopped right over his work boot. “That’s Nards, and he came with the house. Tagan says he’s a pet, and we can’t hurt him. He’ll even eat out of your hand.” His dark eyebrow jacked up. “Can I show you something before you light me up again?”

Gia’s shoulders were heaving around her ears with her crying. God, she couldn’t stop! It was like all the tears she’d been holding in since she’d found out she was pregnant were coming out now, and for what? She felt crazy.

Creed disappeared into the bathroom and came back with a handful of Peanut Butter’s hair.

“O-oooh-oooh,” she sobbed, clutching it to her chest. “Ow!” She dropped it on her lap and rubbed her finger where a sticker burr had poked her.

Creed pulled the strands apart. Peanut Butters discarded fur was full of the prickly things.

“He was crying when we got back from the landing. It was Easton’s day off, and he’d been picking burrs out of his feet for an hour, but they were working their way against his skin. Out here, long-furred animals get hurt, Gia. I wasn’t trying to mistreat your dog. He’s been tramping all over the trailer park for the last couple of hours, happy as all get out. You should see him. Look around you, Gia. This isn’t a showroom. I don’t care that Spike’s hair is perfect. I care that he isn’t hurting.”

Gia wiped her eyes and looked at Peanut Butter Spike. He was rubbing his body happily down the side of the wall, tongue lolled out to the side and a doggy smile on his face. He did look happy. And she hadn’t seen his legs in a year. The haircut was hideous, but she couldn’t deny he wasn’t missing the rubber bands and long fur. “But a Mohawk?”

Creed chuckled and pulled her closer. “I can shave the Mohawk off, but the boys and I think he looks like a little badass.”