Page 38 of Love in Mission City
My dogs got baby carrots and pieces of broccoli. They were now both at healthy weights, and I intended to do my best to keep them as such.
I finished the soup. “You don’t have dogs? And where were you?”
He wiped a dribble of ketchup off his chin. Then he grinned. “My family’s home. I wanted them to meet our dog, my mom and dad, as well as my sister Tansy. She’s got cerebral palsy, like I said yesterday, and is in a wheelchair. Taking her out can be a challenge, so we try to bring happiness and joy to her. Both dogs took turns on her lap, and I have to say both were amazing.”
“Sheffield?” I eyed my dog. “AndRosebud?” From enthusiasm to reticence.
“Both. I’m telling you, Tansy wants to see them every day. Clearly that’s not possible, but if I could borrow them once in a while, that would be amazing.”
“You didn’t tell me where you were.” I might’ve snapped that. Given he’d cared for them all day and then brought me soup, that was probably too harsh.
“Because I don’t have your cell phone number.” He wiped his hands on a napkin, rose gracefully, and headed to the kitchen. After he put his paper bag in the recycling container, he yanked out his phone and gazed at me expectantly. A long moment passed before he pointed to the container with the fries.
“You wouldn’t.” I sniffed.
“Not share my fries if you don’t give me your phone number? You’d better believe I will totally do that.”
I sniffed. The soup had been amazing—and I had yet to thank him for that—but I wasstillhungry. So much for that starving shit. I rhymed off my phone number.
A moment later, my phone buzzed with a text.
“Now I have yours and you have mine.” He took two plates out of the cupboard, divided the fries evenly, and put the first plate in to warm.
“You didn’t have to.” I might’ve groused that.
“Taken your phone number? Of course I did. When the darling pooches come out with me again, even if I tell you we’re going to be gone all day, you can let me know you’re concerned. That’s totally fine. I really was hoping you’d sleep all day. I hadn’t planned to go to my parents’ place. It just…kind of happened.”
By the time he finished that speech, he was handing me a plate with steaming fries and a little bit of gravy along with a little bit of ketchup.
“Wasn’t sure which one you’d want.”
“Uh…” I blinked. “I love both.”
“Right.” He grinned and his face lit. “They make the best gravy. Now, what’s the plan for the next day or so until you’re feeling better? How often do they go out?”
After a moment, I gave him the schedule.
Which he put in his phone. “Perfect. I think I’m going to go home for a bit, and I’ll be back at eight to take them out for the last time. Unless you want me to stay?”
“And risk catching this monster of a cold? No. Don’t you, like, have writing to do?”
“My agent just texted that my lawyer’s reviewed the contract, and she’s happy with it. Well, she wants threeminorchanges. I need to read that part over myself to ensure she’s not asking for too much.”
“Is that possible?”
He shrugged. “Things she might think are necessary might not be sticking points for me.”
“You’ll be able to move out of the condo you just moved into.”
“Sure.” He grinned yet again. “Or I might’ve just found a reason to stay.” He rose, snagged my empty plate, and headed to the kitchen. He rinsed off the plates, then put them in the dishwasher. “You going to be okay?”
“Yeah.” I wanted to snapof course, but the idea of taking the dogs out in what was now a rain shower didn’t appeal.
“Great. See you in two hours.”
“Carter?”
He was petting the dogs. “Yeah?”
