I was going to dress as alluringly as possible and go as far as I could. If nothing happened, I would just make up a story, tell him that I had let a ...uy touch me. Maybe I’d say Aaron did, since he was a ‘stranger.’ That particular evening was like sauna, so I decided to wear a thin little silk midriff camisole, whose scoop neck was maybe just a teeny bit too low and a size too small as well. The thread-like spaghetti straps looked like they would likely burst under the force of my boobs. Our first week in Helena, Emma had somehow managed to acquire a dog, a stray. We’d almost always had one or two back in Indianapolis, so it didn’t surprise me. This guy looked like he had some wolf in him. Maybe coyote, but I’d guess a not too distant ancestor had been a wolf. He’d been living rough; his coat was a little mangy and his ribs were showing. But, knowing Emma, she’d fatten him up, groom him, re-domesticate him.Molly said, “What’s his name, honey?”“Smokey Lonesome.”“Of course it. More

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