door?”
It was an odd change of topic, so she visibly had to process for a moment, but once she did, she whipped her head around and stood up so she could see the back door of the Craftsman bungalow.
Most of the homes in Mangrove were the same except for a few Victorians, summer cottage styles; some Tidewater designed ones; and one or two like mine that were Spanish colonials. So whereas Ivy’s home was a single story, mine was two.
“Oh yeah, I saw that when we moved in. My dad said we could get a dog first thing as soon as he got back.”
I waited for her to get it.
“What?”
“It’s a big-ass dog door, right?”
She nodded.
“Mrs. Colby, who used to live there, had a Saint Bernard.”
She still wasn’t following me.
“His name was Chowder and I never really got that. Mike said it was because the dog was always eating, but that seems rude.”
Apparently she was no longer listening. She reached out for my dog, and Benny—a slave to any and all kinds of affection—bolted forward, up into her arms so she could pet him and hug him and he could shove his wet nose into her eye socket, under her chin, and into her ear. The giggling was instantaneous and made me smile.
“So?” I prodded as she leaned her head on my dog and just stood there, savoring the contact.
“Yeah?”
“Do you wanna maybe use the doggy door?”
She still wasn’t getting it and probably because she’d never had to crawl into a house by way of one of them, drunk, at 3:00 a.m. I did not have that luxury.
I arched an eyebrow for her. I knew I did it well because my brows had a natural tilt to them to begin with, which I always got lots of comments about. People just assumed I was a smartass.
“Benny,” I addressed my pet.
He stopped mauling my new friend and looked up at me.
“Go inside.”
After slipping around the girl, he bounded up the stairs and entered the house through the dog door. I did a slow pan to her.
“Oh.” She drawled out the word. “Duh, I see.”
“Okay,” I said as Benny came loping back since neither of us was in the house and he bored easily. “This is what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna go inside, wash your face, change your clothes, grab some paper towels, and make a pad out of them.”
She was listening intently, which was kind of cute.
“Then you shove that in your underwear, come back out here, and I’ll walk you to my store and we’ll get you what you need, all right?”
Her brows furrowed.
“Now, if you want, I’ll call the police, and one of the two deputies will come over and either follow us in their car or walk with us. I don’t want you to be scared, but again, I am your neighbor and my dog just slobbered all over you.”
“Yeah, he did.”
“And I’m saying we’ll go for a walk; I didn’t invite you over.”
She nodded.
“I don’t want you in my house anyway.”
“Why not?” She sounded a bit offended.
“’Cause it’s a mess right now,” I said honestly. “My cleaning lady only comes Monday and Thursday.”
She seemed surprised. “You’re a grown man—you can’t clean your house by yourself?”
“I could,” I assured her. “I just don’t want to.”
“That’s a little bit lazy, isn’t it?”
“Why don’t you mind your own business?”
“You didn’t mind yours.”
She had a point.
“Okay, so, what, are you coming or not?”
“Yeah, okay,” she agreed, getting up.
“Don’t do me any favors,” I groused.
“Aww, c’mon. I didn’t mean it.”
I grunted. “So do you want Benny to go with you back in the house?”
She gave me a real smile. “How come you named him Benny? That’s not a dog’s name.”
“People always say that kind of stuff to me. Like pets are supposed to have names like Fluffy and Spot and crap like that. But tell me Benny doesn’t look like a Benny.”
She scrutinized my dog, and he tipped his head sideways because she stared so long without doing anything else. When she laughed, he barked and I
It was an odd change of topic, so she visibly had to process for a moment, but once she did, she whipped her head around and stood up so she could see the back door of the Craftsman bungalow.
Most of the homes in Mangrove were the same except for a few Victorians, summer cottage styles; some Tidewater designed ones; and one or two like mine that were Spanish colonials. So whereas Ivy’s home was a single story, mine was two.
“Oh yeah, I saw that when we moved in. My dad said we could get a dog first thing as soon as he got back.”
I waited for her to get it.
“What?”
“It’s a big-ass dog door, right?”
She nodded.
“Mrs. Colby, who used to live there, had a Saint Bernard.”
She still wasn’t following me.
“His name was Chowder and I never really got that. Mike said it was because the dog was always eating, but that seems rude.”
Apparently she was no longer listening. She reached out for my dog, and Benny—a slave to any and all kinds of affection—bolted forward, up into her arms so she could pet him and hug him and he could shove his wet nose into her eye socket, under her chin, and into her ear. The giggling was instantaneous and made me smile.
“So?” I prodded as she leaned her head on my dog and just stood there, savoring the contact.
“Yeah?”
“Do you wanna maybe use the doggy door?”
She still wasn’t getting it and probably because she’d never had to crawl into a house by way of one of them, drunk, at 3:00 a.m. I did not have that luxury.
I arched an eyebrow for her. I knew I did it well because my brows had a natural tilt to them to begin with, which I always got lots of comments about. People just assumed I was a smartass.
“Benny,” I addressed my pet.
He stopped mauling my new friend and looked up at me.
“Go inside.”
After slipping around the girl, he bounded up the stairs and entered the house through the dog door. I did a slow pan to her.
“Oh.” She drawled out the word. “Duh, I see.”
“Okay,” I said as Benny came loping back since neither of us was in the house and he bored easily. “This is what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna go inside, wash your face, change your clothes, grab some paper towels, and make a pad out of them.”
She was listening intently, which was kind of cute.
“Then you shove that in your underwear, come back out here, and I’ll walk you to my store and we’ll get you what you need, all right?”
Her brows furrowed.
“Now, if you want, I’ll call the police, and one of the two deputies will come over and either follow us in their car or walk with us. I don’t want you to be scared, but again, I am your neighbor and my dog just slobbered all over you.”
“Yeah, he did.”
“And I’m saying we’ll go for a walk; I didn’t invite you over.”
She nodded.
“I don’t want you in my house anyway.”
“Why not?” She sounded a bit offended.
“’Cause it’s a mess right now,” I said honestly. “My cleaning lady only comes Monday and Thursday.”
She seemed surprised. “You’re a grown man—you can’t clean your house by yourself?”
“I could,” I assured her. “I just don’t want to.”
“That’s a little bit lazy, isn’t it?”
“Why don’t you mind your own business?”
“You didn’t mind yours.”
She had a point.
“Okay, so, what, are you coming or not?”
“Yeah, okay,” she agreed, getting up.
“Don’t do me any favors,” I groused.
“Aww, c’mon. I didn’t mean it.”
I grunted. “So do you want Benny to go with you back in the house?”
She gave me a real smile. “How come you named him Benny? That’s not a dog’s name.”
“People always say that kind of stuff to me. Like pets are supposed to have names like Fluffy and Spot and crap like that. But tell me Benny doesn’t look like a Benny.”
She scrutinized my dog, and he tipped his head sideways because she stared so long without doing anything else. When she laughed, he barked and I
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