Chapters (41)
- Cover
- Books by Claire Cook
- Praise for Must Love Dogs
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Chapter Thirty-Three
- Excerpt MLD: Hearts & Barks
- Have You Read?
- Sarah’s Warm Winter Non-Casserole Howliday Salad
- Books by Claire Cook
- About Claire
I took a small bite. I’d never admit it to Carol, but she was right. This pie was so not worth the carbs. I grabbed John and me each a whoopie pie instead. I liked a good whoopie pie as much as the next person, but once again, it wasn’t really a pie. It was more of a small cake or a cookie or even a big fat soft Oreo. For the life of me I couldn’t understand why people had to make the world so unnecessarily complicated.
I loaded up my share of the cat dishes. We paraded our way to the cat room. John and I fed Pebbles and the kittens. John gave Horatio his treat. I handed John his whoopie pie.
“So,” I said. “You’re looking at our new love shack beginning Sunday night.”
“Seriously?” John said. We assessed the room. Five cats, one dog, food dishes, litterboxes, toys, a plaid sofa, an old TV. Knotty pine walls and built-in shelving. Somebody must have moved my father’s ancient cracked recliner up to his man cave, because there was a gaping hole where it used to be.
“Okay, so it’s a bit cozy.” I shrugged. “But it’ll just be for a little while.”
Chapter Ten
John and I made love as soon as we woke up. Trying not to wake Horatio, who was snoring away in his bed on the floor. Trying not to wake Polly, who was asleep in Carol’s old room. Trying not to wake Johnny, who was asleep in my parents’ old room.
All things considered, it went pretty well.
We pulled up the covers, wiggled our way into cuddle position.
John kissed me on the shoulder. “I think I’ll ask Joe about adding some insulation to the walls of our new bedroom suite.”
“As much as he can fit,” I said. “Maybe he can squish some under the floorboards, too. And don’t forget the ceiling—you never know who might be lurking around up in the attic.”
“Good point. What I’d like to create is a soundproof, cocoon-like sanctuary, so quiet that when we’re in there it feels like we’re the only ones in the house.”
I sighed. “I can’t believe we only have two more nights in this bedroom before it’s going to disappear and become a completely new room. Two more sleeps, as my sisters and brothers and I used to say when we were counting down to something.”