Page 59 of Red Hot Roaster

“I found out I have to leave early—beginning of next week. We haven’t talked beyond that.”

“Time is running out, n’est-ce pas?”

“Yeah. But she hasn’t invited me to stay. And I haven’t offered.” I paused. “Rose deserves better than me.”

Jean-Luc shook his head. “You’re an idiot.”

I grunted.No argument there.

After leaving Jean-Luc at his place, I walked slowly to Rose’s house. The air was crisp, no rain in sight, and a crescent moon was pinned high in the sky. As I moved down the driveway, the dogs were raising a racket—snuffling, barking and scratching at the backyard gate.

“Everybody calm down. It’s just me, guys…no Rose tonight.”

I flipped the latch and crowded through the mob scene to grab their leashes from the back porch. We geared up and headed out, the pups pulling me down the street toward the park. We made our rounds and a pit stop or two before going back to Rose’s house.

I don’t know who was more surprised—Princess or Pirate—when I opened the front door and disarmed the alarm. You could see their doggy minds going a mile a minute.Where’s Mom? Wasn’t the Boy here? Don’t I get a treat now? Why am I still on the leash?This last one from Princess.

It had come to this. I was narrating the dogs’ thoughts.

I handed out treats and made sure Pirate had a full water bowl. I rearmed the system on my way out, dragging Princess all the way. Her royal highness was not amused.

Later, much later, I was lying in bed, arms crossed under my head, staring at the ceiling. When Princess whimpered, I looked down at her on the rug beside the bed. She was lying on her belly, front legs shoved out straight, muzzle resting between her paws. She was staring too—at the cardboard, life-size, stuck-in-time Elvis in the corner.

Great. Now I was going to have “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” stuck on repeat in my mind.

Chapter 30

Rose

“Ifound him, Rose! I found him!” Lauren blurted out as we walked into Fay’s. My heart started beating faster, and my belly clenched. Finally. Our first chance to talk without little ears—well, not so little these days—listening in.

“Up high!” Lauren wiggled her hip onto the stool at our bar table and pushed her hand toward me head height, fingers spread wide. I obliged, knowing what was coming next in her version of a high-five.

“Down low!” She giggled, lowering her hand and turning it palm up. When I made a move to slap my hand on hers, she pulled away at the last moment.

“Too slow, Joe!”

“You’re a dork, a complete dork,” I informed her, hugging the fido out of her. “I’ve missed you like crazy.”

“Yeah, the phone calls don’t cut it, do they?” Lauren patted my cheek with her impossibly long and polished fingernails and smiled into my eyes. One high heel hung off her foot as she swung her crossed leg back and forth. The same shoes from the drive up—my feet would’ve been aching, but she wore heels every minute of every day.

“Nope. We need in-your-face time.” I smiled back.

An old joke with my first, best and only roomie. My found sister. My ride-or-die.

Literally.

She’d stuck by me and shouted down the mean girls when nobody believed me. She’d bundled me and future-Finn into her car and got us back home to my parents.

Now it wasmyturn to haveherback. Lauren could count on me for any help—legal, illegal or just liquid—in escaping her control-freak-smothering-soon-to-be-ex.

And help in winning the custody battle.Her heartbreak would…well, breakmyheart if she had to leave her Baby behind.

“Hey, before we get started, I’ve got a new one.” We had a running contest for the most creative and obscure insults. Extra points for incorporating canine references.

“Great! Lay it on me,” Lauren said, raising an expectant eyebrow.

“Dogbolt. It’s old English, kinda like Oliver, for a wretched, contemptible fellow—definitely like Oliver.”

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