Mad Gold (Providence Gold Series Book 2)

by Mary B. Moore

  “One of these,” Madix replied, making me grin as he tried to cross his giraffe legs as we sat on the floor. He picked up a gray and white puppy with bright blue eyes in his massive hands and held it up to his face. “Wanna be mine?” he asked it, chuckling when it wriggled to get closer to his nose so it could lick it.

  Could I answer that question?

  “Those are giant long-haired Alaskan Malamutes,” Brady informed us, leaning against the frame of the gate that led into the stall we were sitting in. “The parents are up at the house with Bec and her puppies.”

  “What kind of puppies does she have,” I asked distractedly, watching as the puppy sucked on Madix’s nose.

  “Gross,” he muttered, but at no point did he move the little guy away to stop him doing it. Instead, he grinned and used one finger to tickle its side as it sucked.

  Damn, that was adorable!

  “Teacup Chihuahuas,” I heard Brady reply with the magical words that broke me away from the baby dog-Madix beauty going on.

  “Take me to them,” I ordered, picking up my little clucker to take it with me, all fears forgotten when it came to this one chicken.

  Shaking his head, Brady took a step back and gestured toward the door leading out of the barn.

  “You coming?” he shot at Madix, who picked up the puppy that had been using his nose as a pacifier and nodded.

  “Don’t you already have a dog?” he asked as we walked toward a house I hadn’t seen behind the barn when we’d pulled up. I’d been so caught up in the memories of the chicken attack, at least the one I’d told Madix about, that I’d only seen the barn.

  “Um, yeah. His name is Bing,” I told him.

  I wasn’t necessarily going to buy a puppy, but I had a weak spot for teacup sized dogs, and Chihuahua’s had the cutest ears…

  Focusing back on the beautiful white building in front of us, I took it in as I stroked the chicken who was clucking like crazy. The house was split into three parts with separate front doors to each of them. It was a bizarre shape, almost like a church with extensions added onto it.

  Noticing my confusion, Brady grinned and explained. “The big part in the middle was the original house. When my parents bought it, the owners had been adding an extension onto it, but the husband died of a heart attack in the fields. The wife sold it to my folks, and they finished the extension. I got it when I graduated. During that time, they added on another extension for Bec, which she also got when she graduated,” he pointed to the left part of the building. “Winter there,” he nodded at chick-a-cluckin’-lickin’, “was raised in Bec’s house. The puppies from the barn were born in mine.”

  How cool would that be though, to have a property like this? I had to rent my place when I graduated. I could have stayed with Dad, but I wanted some independence and to go out and have fun. I’d never considered going away to college because I didn’t want to leave Dad on his own. Plus, I knew the ins and outs of managing the garage, so it was a no brainer what I was going to do career wise. Then, when my mom’s parents died, I got an inheritance that paid for a big chunk of the house I lived in now, which was a fifteen-minute drive away from Dad’s. If we’d lived on land like this though, I definitely would have wanted something like they’d done. Or even something like the Townsends had done.

  Just as we got to the door of his sister’s house, it opened and a beautiful girl with blue black hair walked out barefoot.

  “Holy shit, you’re tall!” Was her greeting as she looked at Madix.

  A low grumble came out of him, vibrating his chest against the little-ish puppy, who swung back around to suck on his face.

  “And this is why we can’t have people over,” Brady informed us, waving his hand at his sister. “Bec, this is Madix and Dahlia. Madix and Dahlia, this is my sister Bec. Please forgive her. She doesn’t get out often to meet new people because we try to minimize how much of a dickhead she makes herself look.”

  “Never thought I’d see one of those gargantuan puppies of yours look small, Brady. But his hands are the size of serving platters, so he does,” she said, ignoring Brady’s introduction.

  I really didn’t like what she was saying about Madix and was starting to regret my decision to come see the Chihuahua puppies. To anyone else, he might look like it wasn’t bothering him, but I could see him hunching over slightly out of the corner of my eye. When she’d mentioned his hands, he’d also bent his fingers in like he was trying to make them look smaller.

  “You about done?” Brady asked, glaring at her with his hands on his hips.

  “Yup, it’s all out my system now,” she assured him, turning back to grin at us both. “I’m sorry, I like to mess with people. I would have mentioned you looking comfortable with a cock in your hands, but it was too obvious. Just saying though, you do look like a pro at cock handling.”

  It’s amazing how our perceptions of someone can change in the blink of an eye, isn’t it? One second we can go from liking someone to seeing their true colors. The opposite possibility was also true – and this was one of those occasions.

  Smiling back, I held out my hand to her. “Dahlia Ferguson,” I introduced myself.

  “She’s interested in seeing the puppies,” Brady told her, reaching to take the chicken out of my arms and getting pecked for his efforts, not that he seemed to notice. He just plucked it out of my arms and popped it down on the floor. “Go see the old people,” he instructed it, pointing at the main part of the building.

  Madix and I watched as it walked over to the steps, went up them and tapped around outside the door until an older version of Brady opened it. Looking at the animal, he shook his head and shot Brady a glare before taking a step back and waving his arm for it to enter.

  “That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen,” I whispered.

  Someone had told me chickens were stupid. Granted, I hadn’t believed it after that one targeted me and tried to kill me at the party, but still. I’d even wondered if maybe the one that had flown through the car window during my test was the same chicken. Maybe it had sensed me driving behind the truck and had orchestrated what had happened so it got another chance to peck me? Or had it been the poultry version of Final Destination?

  Consider me convinced now that there had to be a chicken version of Mensa somewhere in the country.

  “Really?” Bec asked, drawing my attention back to her. “They’re the sweetest things ever. I don’t actually want to get rid of them, if I’m honest. They’re like my babies.”

  “You don’t need nine Chihuahuas,” Brady growled. “And you already have a baby.”

  “Those nine make up one of your dog’s legs, asshole,” she snapped. “And they follow me around like I’m their mama, unlike my daughter who’s only six weeks old and can’t do that. Yet.” She added at the end. “The only thing she’s capable of following around are my boobs, so forgive me if I’m enjoying having mobile babies who love me for something other than what my tits…”

  “Bec!” Brady yelled, stopping her mid rant. “We have guests. For the love of all things holy, don’t finish what you were about to say. In fact, don’t finish it ever!”

  Crossing her arms over the body parts currently being fought over, she mumbled, “It’s my boobies and I’ll discuss them if I want to.”

  “Not in front of guests you won’t. It makes people feel awkward,” he informed her, before swinging to face us. “Don’t you guys feel awkward?”

  Well, if we hadn’t before, we sure as shit did now. Taking a step closer to Madix, I put myself within arm’s reach and found my body moving and being placed in front of him like a protective shield.

  “Pussy,” I whispered and then jerked when he pinched the top of my right butt cheek.

  “I think the best thing for me to do is to keep all of them and not split the family up. Ilsa really likes them and would be lost if any of them were taken away. You couldn’t do that to an innocent baby, could you?” Bec was doing her best to sound like it was t
he best argument ever, but her brother was having none of it.

  Rolling his eyes, Brady held his ground. “No. Now, can these lovely people come in?”

  I was starting to feel really bad for the poor woman who looked close to tears. That feeling wasn’t helped at all when she turned to me and asked, “If you take one, do you promise to love it like you gave birth to it?”

  “Uh…”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. I wasn’t sure if I was buying one, and I wasn’t sure that people did actually love their dogs like they gave birth to it. Sure, I loved Bing like he was my kid, but I was sure that if the miracle of parenthood occurred, I’d love my kid in a different way to Bing. Then again, I didn’t actually want kids, I was too jinxed for that and it wouldn’t be fair to them to live in that amount of danger.

  So, in that case, maybe I could love my dogs as if they were my kids, because that’s what they were.

  “Absolutely,” I assured her loudly, my mind made up.

  I was having another baby. A four legged, waggy tailed, furry little baby.

  Madix

  “You know, it’s gonna to be strange seeing you both walking your new dogs,” Brady chuckled, sitting on the couch with a tiny puppy nestled into his neck, fast asleep.

  I agreed. The little guy I was currently holding was about the size of my palm. Somehow, Dahlia and I had swapped puppies, and she was now struggling under the size of the Malamute puppy that was sucking on her chin.

  “What made you decide on a giant Malamute?” Bec asked, sitting back watching us.

  She’d been hesitant initially to let Dahlia buy one, but once she’d seen the puppies and started to interact with them, Bec had changed her mind and decided that Dahlia had to have one.

  “I love the breed,” I replied simply, tickling the little puppy on the cheek.

  Jesus Christ, my finger tip was almost the same size as its head. Taking a quick look at the mother who was enjoying the freedom from her offspring, I tried to picture the puppy in my hand only growing to that size. There really wasn’t that much of a difference between its size now and its full-grown size.

  What if I stood on it? I had huge feet and normally wore boots. What if Dahlia came around with Bing and Baileys - which is what she’d called the puppy because it was apparently the color of the drink Baileys – and I stood on it? Or if I lost it? A warm feeling spread in my chest at the thought of her coming round to my house to stay, just because, even with the concerns swarming around my brain about the puppy.

  She’d be sleeping in my bed. Using my shower. Using my towels to wipe her…

  A yap from the baby in my hand snapped me out of my thoughts and I had to shift slightly to hide the swelling in my pants. Wrong place, wrong time!

  “Have you seen the size of its parents?” Bec asked, nodding at my own new puppy who was already the size of a small dog.

  “I know about the breed,” I shrugged. A Malamute wasn’t exactly a rare dog. When I was a kid, my neighbor kid had one and it was freakin’ amazing.

  “You might want to get the industrial-sized bag of food,” she advised. “They eat a ton.”

  Nodding, I held the Chihuahua out to Dahlia, gesturing at her to swap with me.

  “What are you going to call him?” Dahlia asked me, passing the massive puppy back. It had seemed so small before, but having held the other puppy, it now seemed like a full-sized dog.

  “I’m not sure. I hadn’t gotten that far. Archer told me about the puppies and when I heard they were Malamutes, I decided I wanted one. Past that, I have no idea.”

  “King Kong?” Bec suggested.

  “Don’t listen to her, she named her kid Ilsa. How about Godzilla?” Brady snorted as he suggested. “Shortened to Zilla.”

  “Listen, I’ve told you repeatedly – Ilsa is a real name. I can’t help it if you’ve never watched Casablanca. Will you please just leave your niece’s beautiful name alone?” Bec growled, and we were back into awkwardsville.

  “I like Ilsa,” Dahlia said, breaking the tension and getting a glare from Brady and a beaming grin from Bec in return.

  “You named your dog after alcohol,” Brady replied, rolling his eyes. “Your opinion is moot.”

  If he’d said it nastily or like he actually meant it, I would have kicked his ass regardless of who he was friends with. But as he’d said it, his lips had been twitching, and he was currently trying not to laugh at the middle finger that Dahlia was shooting him, so I let it go.

  There was silence again as we all looked at the puppy and tried to think of a name. Those two suggestions were definitely out, though. Poor dog would have a complex.

  “Harambe!” Dahlia suddenly said, and the puppy on my lap yapped. “That’s the one. Harambe.”

  “As in the gorilla that was killed when the kid fell in its cage at the zoo?” Bec asked, looking as confused as her brother.

  Groaning, I tipped my head back to look at the ceiling as she explained. “Yeah, I call Madix Harambe because he’s a big guy and tends to dominate the space he’s in. I think it would be perfect for the puppy.”

  “You…” Brady choked. “You nicknamed your boyfriend after a gorilla?”

  She didn’t reject the word boyfriend or say anything to the contrary. Instead, she nodded and then grinned at me. The other bonus was - if I named the dog Harambe, they wouldn’t be able to call me that anymore.

  This trip was the best idea I’d ever had.

  Or so I thought. I maybe should have paid more attention to the word ‘giant’ instead of focusing on the Malamute part. If I had, I might have waited until a normal-sized Malamute puppy had become available.

  Eight

  Dahlia

  “S top laughing,” Madix snapped as we drove home.

  I’d just looked up the details for a giant Alaskan Malamute and when I’d seen how big they got to, I’d asked if he’d deliberately gotten a dog to match his own size. That’s when he’d realized the difference between a normal version of the breed versus what he’d gotten.

  Over one-hundred-and-fifty pounds of dog that would grow to be a big boy all over. And he also had the consolation that they needed to be entertained and worked out, otherwise they became bored and could be destructive. He literally had the canine version of Harambe! He’d already been intending to take the puppy to work with him, but now he’d have to look at making sure he never left him with nothing to do in his neat and organized house too.

  Unable to hold it in, I buried my face in Harambe’s fur and started laughing again. He’d chosen to sit on my lap whilst Baileys was curled up on Madix’s lap fast asleep and looked like a little mouse. Damn it if I wasn’t jealous as hell of him. I wanted to curl up on his crotch and fall asleep while he drove. Well, no, not quite. But I wouldn’t mind being near it!

  “Stop,” he whined, well what was meant to sound like a whine. In his deep voice, it sounded more like a lion roaring.

  I couldn’t. I’d tried, and I’d failed!

  “We need to stop and get supplies,” I gasped, shoulders still shaking.

  I should probably also get Bing some treats and a toy because I was pretty sure he was going to be pissed at me for bringing home another dog, as well as smelling of another one. Maybe he’d forgive me seeing as how I smelled like chicken too? He loved chicken.

  With a groan, Madix indicated and took the turning that led to the huge supermarket.

  “How are we going to do this?” I asked when we parked up, nodding at the puppies. “It’s not like we can take them in with us.”

  Rubbing the back of his neck while he thought about it, he stopped, picked up Baileys and put him in the pocket of his shirt.

  “Just put Harambe in the kid's seat in the cart. He’ll be okay.”

  Twenty minutes later…

  And that’s how we ended up being banned from the store for two months. Technically, it was when Harambe decided that he needed a poop and had squatted next to the display with about twenty different type
s and scents of disinfectant. The store security was totally over reacting when he said that the dog had ‘defecated all over the store’. He’d blatantly kept it to that one spot which was easy to clean up and added his own scent to the ones already available. And we’d paid for the disinfectant we’d used too.

  I was looking forward to the apology letter from the bad-tempered old devil when he re-watched the security tapes and saw that a set of twins, who had been screaming the whole time their mother had been shopping and talking on her phone, had been the ones throwing poop at the shelves, not our canine baby. What made it worse was they were throwing each other’s poop, not their own.

  Kids were dirty little hamsters!

  “At least they let us buy what we needed,” I pointed out as we loaded up the back seat of the truck with the puppy food and assorted crap we’d bought.

  Giving me a quick glare, he shut the door and opened mine to let me in. Harambe was quick to jump in after me and settled back on my lap so he could watch out the windows when Madix drove us back to the garage.

  “Ah, Jesus Christ. Why? Why?” Madix suddenly groaned, pulling Baileys out of his shirt pocket and holding it open so he could look inside it.

  From the outside, I could see a dark patch where he’d peed and couldn’t stop myself smiling at the predicament.

  “It’s just pee. It’ll come out when you wash it,” I offered, watching as Baileys circled around Madix’s lap twice before deciding on a spot, curling up and settling down.

  “It wasn’t just that. Fuck me, it looks like raisins!” he moaned, and then he did something that would be in my spank bank every night from now on.

  He got out of the car, placing the puppy on his chair, unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off his shoulders even though we were still in the middle of the parking lot. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a group of old women pushing their carts into cars as they stared at what he was doing, but I’d be damned if I gave up the full visual I had at that moment to watch their reactions as the alarms went off and frantic owners came running out of the store.