Mother Fluffer (A Billionaire Bad Boys Bonus Novella)(20)

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and hit Call on Thatch’s name. As I held my phone up to my ear and listened to the first unanswered ring, I glanced outside the store window of Bella’s to make sure Georgia’s horse hadn’t moved from his spot just outside the entrance.

“Is he answering?” she asked while she perused a rack of vintage dresses. “I’m starting to feel a little bad. I mean—”

“No,” I cut her off as the third unanswered ring filled my ear. “Put those sad little doe eyes away, Bambi. This is just a simple little prank. Not homicide.”

She flashed a pointed look in my direction. “Technically, it’s dognapping.”

“Borrowing,” I corrected.

“Stealing,” she retorted. “A dog. My dog, for that matter.”

“Meh. Tomayto tomahto.”

She shook her head on a laugh. “It’s kind of an evil prank, Cass.”

“It’s not that evil,” I scoffed and nodded toward Stan outside the window. “Stan is having the time of his life. It’s not like I’ve got him locked up inside a kennel. If anything, we did your horse a favor, Georgie. He’s enjoying some alone time without his feline lover demanding every second of his attention.”

Georgia looked at Stan and then back at me. “I bet Walter is losing his shit right now.”

I laughed.

“Poor Thatch,” she added.

“No,” I retorted. “Not poor Thatch. Have you forgotten the fact that he thinks your dog is missing and he didn’t even call you? Nor did he tell you when you called him?”

“Ugh. True. He’s definitely blacklisted from all future pet sitting opportunities.” Her voice dropped to a level of self-reflection. “Though, I will say he sounded pretty sweet with the kids.”

“Jesus. He’s not answering.” I hit End on the call before it went to voice mail and fired off a quick text to my husband, who I assumed, was currently looking for Stan, and quite possibly, trying to avoid the wrath of Satan’s claws.



Me: Call me back, T-bag. I want to chat with Ace.



Thatch: I’m a little busy here, Cass.



Me: Oh c’mon. You’re not that busy. Three kids and two pets isn’t that hard to manage.



Thatch: What do you mean, two pets?



Oh, fuck. How did I fudge that up?

I might as well have let Georgia send these texts.

God, it was safe to say that I officially had pregnancy brain.



Me: Philmore doesn’t count. When he’s not getting fed, he’s usually sleeping on his bed. And since it’s not meal time, I know it’s his nap time.



And from the looks of, it was also Stan the Man’s nap time. The proof lay outside the store with his leash hooked to a pole and his big, sleepy doggy face resting on his paws.



Thatch: Of course he’s sleeping. But still, I feel like I’m running a day care over here. It’s hard work, Cass.



Pfffft. Yeah. Hard work to find a missing dog…



Me: Can I talk to Ace?



Thatch: Nope. He’s busy.



Me: Busy? He’s 4. What in the hello is he busy with?



Thatch: You know how he is. He’s a busy guy. Places to run. Shit to destroy. His schedule is jam-packed, honey. I’ll let him know you called, though.



Before I could respond, he followed that up with another text message.



Thatch: Will you ask Georgia if Julia can have chocolate milk?



Just play it off, Cass.



Me: Are you wanting me to call her? Why can’t you just call her?



Holy sneakers. No. Unless I wanted to blow the lid off this Popsicle stand, I couldn’t allow any more phone conversations with Wheorgie.



Me: Jesus. Hold on. I’ll call her. It should be noted here that I’m actually working, and you’re just sitting at home playing with kids and pets all day.



Thatch: Thanks, honey. I’m sure you’ll have no issues getting ahold of her.



Fuck, he knows. I needed to play this off at an expert level or else the prank would be dunzo.



Me: She’s not answering. I sent her a text. I’ll let you know if she gets back to me. Quick, send me a Bambi pose before I have to get back on set.



Thatch: I’m watching kids and pets, Crazy. I don’t have time to Bambi pose for you.



Me: Liar. I know you have at least 4 new ones saved on your phone.



Thatch: If I get through this day, I’ll pose for you while you take live shots tonight.



Me: With the Supercock out.



Thatch: Deal.



“Can Julia have chocolate milk?” I asked, and Georgia looked at me over the vintage black leather Prada purse in her hands.

“Uh, yeah, why?”

“Thatch wanted to know.”