The Sex Solution by Kimberly Raye

—that’s his favorite TV show.” She held up the notebook. “It’s all right here. There’s a detailed schedule for feeding and hygiene, as well as a page with lyrics in case you’re not up on your lullabies. And a TV schedule, as well. Oh, Cheryl also included a picture diagram of Twinkles with a list of the exact spots where he likes to be scratched. The last few pages contain information on the plants. They’re all on the sun porch out back. Each pot is labeled with a name and an age.”
    “And a lullaby?”
    “Actually, they like country music. There’s a CD player out back complete with a stack of George Strait CDs. Each is labeled with a time slot and a preferred song.” Sarah must have noticed Madeline’s shocked look. “Look on the bright side, at least Tilly the farting poodle is going with them. Besides, it’s only two weeks. They almost went to Australia, which would have meant a solid three.”
    “Want to time-share with me?”
    “I went for a popcorn maker myself. Speaking of which, I need to get going. I have to run by my house and grab the gift before I head for the church. I picked up the dresses at the dry cleaners. Yours is hanging over there.”
    Madeline managed to dodge another lick and twist away from Twinkles. She crossed the living room and took a closer look at the dress hanging from the window casing.
    “It’s really orange.”
    “Cheryl Louise calls it coral.”
    “And frilly.”
    “She wanted a traditional Southern-belle look.”
    Twinkles walked up behind Madeline and started sniffing her backside. “I must be deranged.”
    “Why didn’t you just get something off her bridal registry?”
    “I thought house-sitting would be more personal.”
    “You’re right about that.” Sarah laughed as Twinkles stood on his hind legs and went for another wet lick. The sound died the minute she heard the door creak open. She turned to see Uncle Spur hobble over the threshold.
    Madeline had left him to finish one of his atrocious cigars on the porch. A cloud of smoke and smell surrounded him.
    “You remember Uncle—achewww!” Madeline sneezed once, twice, while doing her best to avoid Twinkles and her overzealous affection. She’d never been allergic to dog hair, but then she’d never had a dog right in her face either.
    “Say it, don’t spray it,” Uncle Spur grumbled as he walked past Madeline and headed for the stairs. “I’m in the second room to the left. Hurry up and get the bags out of the car. I need plenty of grooming time before I go hunting. Hey there, Red,” he said to Sarah, who turned a noticeable shade of white and backed up a few steps. “Or so you say.”
    “I, um, really need to go,” Sarah mumbled as she snatched up her purse, careful to keep her eye on Uncle Spur as she backed her way around him. “See you at the church.”
    “Where’s the dye queen running off to in such a hurry?” Uncle Spur stared at the open doorway and watched Sarah hightail it out to her car.
    “She’s a natural redhead.”
    “And you’re a size three.”
    She glared at the old man. “Are you always so pleasant?”
    He frowned. “Damn straight I am, and don’t you forget it.” He turned and hobbled up the stairs. “Get moving. I got things to do.”
    “Sic ’em, boy,” Madeline whispered as Uncle Spur disappeared up the stairs. The dog just wagged his tail and came at Madeline for another sloppy kiss. “Just my luck,” she grumbled, twisting her head to the side to dodge the massive tongue. “I get stuck with a lover when what I really need is a fighter.”
     

    “I REALLY HAVE TO get up early tomorrow morning,” Austin said as he tugged at the collar of his starched western shirt. “Can’t we just skip the reception and call it quits for tonight?”
    “And be rude? Nonsense.” Marshalyn Simmons patted Austin’s arm as they stood at the entrance to the Veterans of Foreign Wars Hall. “Besides, this place is full of nice, respectable women.”
    And a