The rumble of a truck idling just outside my front door had me peeking through the glass.
I was currently pacing back and forth, trying to decide whether I should wait on the porch or go hide under my covers.
Avery, why did you do this to me?
I didn't go on dates. Well, not since before I was married. And even then, I was bad at them.
I'd googled Max, and the man came from old money. He was ivy league educated, born rich, hella good-looking, and of course, the man was a dog.
A real playboy, dating supermodels and top actresses, and who knew who else.
Sadly, I was disappointed my first assumption was right. The city boy was just wasting time here, playing at being a cowboy.
He'd be gone soon. I was sure of it.
Do not get attached, Penelope.
That's the mantra I'd been repeating all
