Page 22 of Goalie Interference

Why was I feeling disappointed? I didn’t want to be a dog sitter, and I’d made sure he knew it. “I’m not volunteering to do this every day, but he was very little bother. I fed him some cat food, which I hope is okay, and took him out at lunchtime. But once I’m working I tend to ignore everything around me, so I think he just chewed and slept.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Shit. I should have given you dog food.”

“Is what I gave him going to be a problem?”

He looked down at Beast. Was he actually eating the terry cloth?

“He was a street dog. He can eat anything.”

That was a relief. “Good. Cash spends a fortune on Goober’s food, so it shouldn’t hurt any animal.”

Remy tilted his head. “Can I ask why the cat is called Goober?”

He was in no position to throw shade when it came to pet names. “Why is your dog called Beast?”

Remy looked down at the towel chewer, that crooked smile coming out again. “Seems to suit him, doesn’t it?”

I laughed. “Goober is kind of the same. Since the cat is kind of cross-eyed, Cash called her Goober and it stuck. I wish I could change it. Yelling ‘Goober’ out the door to try to get her to come inside is embarrassing.”

“So far I haven’t had to yell for Beast like that, but I’d prefer Beast to Goober.” His glance moved around the workshop. “So you work with guitars?”

“That’s what a luthier does, yeah.”

“I don’t know much about music, but I’m sure that requires concentration.”

I nodded. And then the penny dropped. He was heading upstairs, and I was still here in my workshop. “Will it be a problem for you, me working down here? Some of my machines are a little noisy, but I’m trying to use them when you’re out. I have another place I can use.”

“I don’t want to interfere with your work. I mean, you were here before me.”

That was accommodating of him. “But this is your home, and you deserve to be comfortable.”

“I’ll let you know if there’s a problem, but there shouldn’t be. Thanks again, and I’ll leave you to get your guitars fixed.”

Right. I didn’t have time to chatter. “As long as you’re sure you’ll tell me if what I’m doing interferes with anything you need to do.”

He held back a smile. “I will. Come on, Beast.” Beast growled but stood up. He was still chewing on the towel. Remy frowned at him. “Seriously?”

Grrr, the dog responded.

He walked off, Beast dragging the remains of the towel with him. My gaze lingered on Remy’s ass, because why not…even as I realized I was asking for trouble if I got interested in my ex’s worst rival.

I flexed my fingers and released them.Not my circus, not my monkeys.I didn’t know why I felt protective about this guy. He was old enough, big enough, and fit enough that he didn’t need a luthier watching out for him.

But Ollie. Daniel Rempel was the burr under his saddle that he’d never gotten over. I knew Ollie.

I turned to the guitar I’d been working on. I was doing a fret job for a client and needed to concentrate to do the repair properly. It wouldn’t make noise, and shouldn’t disturb Remy or his dog, but I kept listening for them anyway.

Remy

“You’ll be fine. This isn’t like when I left you with the transportation people. It’s just a few hours, you get to stay here with all your stuff, and I’ll put some peanut butter in your Kong. You’ll hardly know I’m gone.”

Beast growled.

“Learn to live with it. I’m going to a restaurant and they don’t allow dogs. That means you can’t come with me.” I could imagine how people would react. “I can’t leave you in the car either.”

I filled up the Kong, checked that I had the keys for the new truck, and dropped the toy onto the floor. Beast glared.

He’d had a difficult life before I rescued him, even if I didn’t know the details. Living at the cottage this summer he’d gotten so much better. But that wasn’t how my normal life was, and I didn’t really want to be confined 24/7 in one place with my dog.

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