“No problem. Good night.”

Marina tromped back through the marsh to her cabin, muttering the entire way. Why did Snooze pick tonight to be ambitious? Why did a poacher have to pick her property? Why didn’t someone come up with a solution to menopause so she could wear more clothes to sleep in? Why did the game warden have to be good-looking?

Once inside, she herded the reluctant hound into the bathroom and hauled him one half at a time into the tub. Then she climbed in with him and began dousing him with shampoo.

“I don’t have the energy or enough hot water to do this two times,” she said as he gave her a woeful stare. “Next time, don’t go chasing poachers. And especially not if it’s going to rain. I’m going to have to mop the floors again. And my grilled cheese is cold. And what’s with licking that game warden? You never do that.”

Snooze let out a single bark.

“Don’t tell me yes. You know that’s not true.”

He barked again.

“What? Are you trying to tell me you liked him?”

Another bark.

“You’re just Mr. Congeniality lately.”

He shook his entire body, flinging shampoo all over her and the walls.

“Or do you just not like Harold?”

Single bark.

She directed the shower onto his back and began rinsing the shampoo off of him.

“That makes two of us.”

Chapter Fourteen

In her eighteen years on earth, no one had ever accused Avery Trahan of being extra. In fact, some had questioned whether she had feelings at all. But Avery never paid them any mind. Nothing could shift her from her focus. She was going to graduate premed with honors, then be accepted to the medical school of her choice, then become a surgeon. She’d spent three years working as a vet assistant and one day when the surgical tech had gotten into a car accident, the vet had asked Avery to help out on an emergency surgery.

Avery had been fascinated with medicine—surgery specifically—ever since. But she had no desire to practice on animals. She loved them too much and knew she’d never be able to develop the detachment necessary to focus 100 percent on the job. People, on the other hand, often ranked low on her list of things she loved, and almost never occupied a spot higher than dogs.

Now was definitely no exception.

When she’d first gotten off the phone with her mom, she’d sat shell-shocked for so long that her roommate asked her what was wrong. No way was Avery repeating the horrific drama to the person she was going to be sharing close space with for the next four years. At least, not until she was certain it was true.

Not that she thought her mom was lying. Her mom never lied except about things that didn’t matter, like Santa and telling someone they looked nice when they looked awful. So at best, someone had convinced her mom that this nightmare had happened. At worst, it was all true and her dad had officially become that gross, creepy old man.