Page 154 of On The Rocks

“Kind of.”

“What do you mean, kind of?”

“There’s no easy way to say it.”

“Then just spit it out.” I laced my fingers behind my head. “Did he finally do too many of those exotic drugs he likes so much?”

“No. Well, not this week, anyway. He’s into mushrooms these days. The more psychedelic, the better. Which is probably how it happened.” He crouched down to Elmer. “Hey, buddy.”

Elmer’s eyes rolled back as Baron gave him a hearty rub.

“I like the dog,” he said, as he stood up. “Let’s see if I like the girl.”

“You call her girl again, and she’ll probably deck you.”

“I like her already.”

We climbed the last of the incline of my driveway to the patio. Lennon was gone, but she had left the door cracked open. Elmer trailed behind us, sniffing around the weeds pushing through the gravel.

“You live in a box?”

“It used to be an old pressing building.”

“Do I even want to know what that is?”

“Probably not, unless you like cider.”

“Like apple juice?” he asked as he climbed the stairs behind me.

“Not quite. Hard cider—beer, but better.” I pushed the door open, and Elmer’s nails scrabbled up the steps, bumping me to the side to get inside to his water bowl.

“I’ll take your word for it.” He stepped inside and swore. “Not what I was expecting.”

“Helps that Kain is an architect. He let me have some input, like the shelves for?—”

“Your records. Finally, out of storage,” he finished for me and headed right to my collection.

The bookcase opened. Lennon came out, wearing her own clothes, these a pair of faded black jeans with a lot more rips in the knees than the ones she wore at work. Her feet were still bare, and she’d swapped my sweatshirt for a black sweater pushed up at the elbows.

She closed it behind her.

Baron gave me some serious side-eye. “Secret room? No shit.” He rerouted from the records to the bookcase. “Hi, I’m Baron Ramos.” He held out his hand for a quick shake.

“Lennon Hathaway.”

“You’re far too hot to be with the likes of my friend,” he said distractedly as he looked at the bookcase. “How’s this work?”

“Owl,” she said simply and moved toward me. She grinned at me. “Thanks, I think.”

“Huh?” Baron turned with the owl under his hand.

“That I’m too hot for Griffin.”

“Oh, you definitely are.” He pulled the owl, and the bookcase shifted inward. “Son of a bitch.” He disappeared inside to explore.

She turned to me. “You’re hotter and totally deserve me.”

I laughed. “Thanks, darlin’.” I kissed her and tasted mint and something raspberry.

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