Waking Up in Vegas(33)

Although, I suppose the music could’ve been worse. We were watching Demolition Man, and it has a pretty decent soundtrack.

I hadn’t watched this movie in ages—it was Jensen’s. She’d brought a Target bag full of her favorite DVDs, and there was only one that was sort of a chick-flick. But since Sandra Bullock is hilarious in Miss Congeniality, and she acts like a guy through most of it, I’ll forgive Jensen for contaminating my house with that one.

I can’t guarantee that we’ll ever watch it, though.

Not when she brought a bag full of movies where stuff blows up and/or gets shot at, and she was only going to be here for seven nights.

If the covers didn’t look slightly worse for wear, I’d be suspicious that she’d gone out and bought a slew of my favorite flicks to make the awkward evenings less so.

And it truly was awkward.

How she felt relaxed enough to conk out on my sofa with her feet practically in my lap was beyond my comprehension. The whole thing made me uncomfortable as fuck.

I’m used to being alone. I’ve had the occasional friend who was plastered after a party or a football Sunday blowout snooze on the sofa or in the guest bedroom, but other than them, no one has stayed overnight.

Every last one of them were guys.

And all of them kept their clothes on.

Jensen was in a pair of plaid flannel pants and a loose tee shirt. With no bra.

What? It’s not like it’s hard to tell.

I nudged her legs, but she didn’t bat an eyelid.

I nudged harder and got a mumble. Then she was quiet again.

Well, if she wanted to sleep on the couch with the tiny pillow, who was I to wake her? I dropped Angus on the cushion next to her and struggled my feet out from under Lita so I could get up.

I turned off the lights and the electronics and headed to bed myself—after snagging the comforter from the guest room and tossing it over Jensen and Angus.

Lita must have wanted to make sure Angus didn’t wander around her house too much, ‘cause she stayed on the floor by the sofa all night long.



As for me, I had a helluva time falling asleep. It had been weird enough all day just thinking about Jensen coming to stay on Tuesday. Her sacked out in my living room a day sooner was downright Twilight Zone.

Jen was the very first female who had crossed that threshold with the intent of being here the next morning.

Let’s rewind:

I’d been surprised when the doorbell rang and Jensen was standing there with a pizza box balancing on one hand and Angus’s leash in the other. She was only supposed to be dropping off the contents of her kitchen and a suitcase or two, then going back home to her condo for the night. Pizza and her dachshund hadn’t ever been part of Monday night’s equation.

“Hi.” Angus flew past my ankles, tugging Jen in after him. She handed off the pizza as she passed, trying in vain to keep the little weinerdog under control. “I had everything packed, so going back home seemed stupid. You don’t mind, do you?”

With what looked like a well-practiced backup-and-duck maneuver, Angus liberated himself from his collar and ran toward the couch—and Lita.

She barked only once—but it was one of the sonic-weapon kind that made my eyes vibrate and my brain feel cut loose from its moorings.

Angus yapped back, and it was game on.

I’ve never seen Lita jump from the couch so fast—but Angus, with his practically nonexistent legs, was somehow faster. She pounced and he skirted to the left. They scrambled down the hall, play-growling and bouncing off the walls.

I took the pizza to the kitchen while Jen went back out for another armload. By the time we were done bringing it all in, the dogs were out of sight, and worse, out of earshot. I didn’t normally worry about Lita running through an open door when I wasn’t looking, but if she’d been chasing Angus…

I went out front and Jen stayed in to nose around check the house. Which left me uneasy, but it’s not like I had a choice. I didn’t know whether Lita would come if Jen called her, and Angus would be stuck like glue to his new bitch, no doubt with his head stuck halfway up her—

“I found them!”

I’d only gotten to the spot where my walkway met the sidewalk, so I was back inside in a heartbeat.

Jensen was standing in the living room with a hand clamped over her mouth, trying to hold in a laugh. It was leaking out, anyway.

“Where are they? And what’s so funny?” I was still riding the adrenaline of missing-dog panic—not for Lita, ‘cause I knew she’d come home. Angus, however, would be nearly invisible in traffic.

She snorted around her hand and pointed down the hall. So that’s where I went, glancing in the doorways. My bedroom was empty, as was the bedroom that served as an office. When I got to the guestroom where Jen was staying, I stopped and had to stifle a laugh myself. I didn’t want to disturb them.