Page 2 of Getting the Grinder
“Hey Leo, want to help me make tacos?” Carter asks.
“Yeah, sure.”
Relief washes over me as I get up and head for the kitchen. Anson’s sister has never even met me. I’ve tried to put Anson off from setting us up on a date every way I can think of, but nothing has worked.
“We’ve still got lots of toppings left from last night,” I tell Carter as I scan the contents of the massive refrigerator, one of two in the twelve-bedroom cabin. “We can use the onions and peppers and olives.”
Last night was our first night here, and we made homemade pizzas. Carter had groceries delivered to the cabin before we got here, and we had every possible pizza topping imaginable. Even grilled chicken, bacon and pineapple. The pineapple caused an argument over whether pineapple belongs on pizza. I’m not a fan of it, but I don’t care if other people like it. I couldn’t believe how worked up Isaac got about it not belonging on pizza.
Bash’s friend and future brother-in-law, Eric, is here with us, and he probably thinks we’re a bunch of idiots after that showdown. He’s sleeping now because he’s not used to drinking like we did last night.
Carter and I are working in comfortable silence, him cooking ground beef and me heating up chicken, when Anson approaches, taking a picture of me.
“Addison’s gonna flip when she finds out you can cook, too,” he says.
“Enough, man,” Carter says. “This is a bachelor party, not an episode of The Bachelor.”
“Yeah, I know.” Anson puts his phone in his pocket, smiling. “You guys need some help?”
“You can cut these up.” I pass him several avocados, a cutting board and a knife.
I’m about to return to heating up the grilled chicken when I hear a scratch against the door that leads from an outdoor deck into the kitchen.
“It’s that damned raccoon again,” I say, picking up a towel and wiping my hands off. “I’m gonna wrestle that bastard if he got in the trash again.”
Carter furrows his brow. “There’s a fucking blizzard outside. He should be keeping warm somewhere.”
I open the door, ready to take on a pissed-off trash panda, but when I look down, I find a shivering brown dog, her fur soaking wet.
“Oh, hey there.” I squat down to pet her. “It’s too cold out here for you.”
Her dark eyes lock onto mine and my heart twists. Somehow I know it’s a her, and she looks like she’s walking a line between life and death. I think she’s a golden retriever mix, and she’s way too skinny.
“You’re okay,” I assure her. “Come on in.”
She takes a few steps, glancing back outside. Then she sits down, still shivering.
Andrei brings a blanket and I wrap it around her. She won’t move from her spot just inside the door, so I make a plate of cut-up chicken and bring it to her.
She scarfs the food, barely even chewing it. Anger rises in my chest as I wonder if this dog was someone’s pet. Did they abandon her? She could easily have died out in this weather.
“Come on in.” I try coaxing her with head and back pets, but she won’t move.
When I bring her water, she drinks some, still looking out at the deck. We need to close the door to stop letting the icy wind in the house, so I slide my arms beneath her and pick her up.
She cries softly as I carry her over to the couch, where the guys have made a little blanket nest. Bash is starting a fire in the fireplace.
When I set her down and pull the wet blanket from her back, Bash says, “Oh, shit.”
“What?”
He gestures at her belly, and my stomach sinks. Her skin is hanging loose and her nipples are enlarged.
“She’s got puppies.” I shake my head. “That’s why she kept looking outside.”
All the guys are gathered around now. Carter’s our team captain, and he usually takes the lead on things, but I don’t wait for him to say something.
“Everybody, get your coats and shoes on. We’re going to find her pups.”
