Blame It On The Dog

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Amy Frazier. Blame It On The Dog

Blame It on the Dog

EPILOGUE

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That embrace. Protective. Tender.

Too seductive in its tenderness. And now she felt herself drowning in his kiss. This wasn’t a get-the-girl-in-bed kiss. She’d handled those in the past. No, this kiss was a litmus test to prove if they fitted together. At a most elemental level. And, damn, did they fit.

.....

HE WAS STRUCK not so much by the sullen adolescent who opened the door, but by the overwhelming clutter and confusion of the apartment behind the kid. Even that impression took a backseat to the powerful baying of an unseen dog miserable at being shut away somewhere. The distinct smell of acetylene hung in the air, giving the whole situation a decidedly film noir feel.

“I’m Jack Quinn,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m here to talk about Axel.”

.....