Waffles blinked again. “Huh,” Jax said.
Carter sniffed the air. “Please tell me that came from one of the dogs.”
Evan pulled his shirt over his face. The smell wafted its way up to the front seat. Beckett gagged and Jax buried his face in Waffles’ wiry fur.
“Did someone just shit themselves in my car?” Beckett demanded, rolling down all the windows.
They pulled back into the rescue’s parking lot. Mrs. Penskee was casually walking Mr. Snuffles around the front porch on a leash. “Back so soon?” She greeted them with a cheery wave. Mr. Snuffles sneezed, sending a green shower in a two-foot radius.
“We’ll take the four-legged sinus infection, Mrs. Penskee,” Jax said, handing his credit card out the window.
“Oh, how exciting!” she said, patting her silver-streaked curls, eyes sparkling behind her wire-rimmed spectacles. She looked like an energetic Mrs. Claus. “I’ll just hand him over and bring you a receipt,” she said, shoving the dog into Carter’s arms through the back window.
“She’s running like she’s afraid we’ll change our minds,” Carter muttered.
“She had him out here on a leash. She knew we’d be back for him,” Beckett said, massaging his temples.
“How’d she know that?” Evan asked, unwrapping Diesel’s leash from his wrist and ankle.
“Because we have ‘suckers’ stamped on our foreheads,” Jax grumbled. Waffles gave a happy little yip.
Mrs. Penskee reappeared waving Jax’s credit card and receipt.
“Thank you boys so much! Are you sure I can’t talk you into posing for a group picture for our Facebook page?”
“No!” They answered in unison.
“Remember, no posting on social media until tomorrow, right, Mrs. Penskee?” Beckett said, flashing her his best mayoral grin.
“All right. Well, you boys have fun surprising your girls,” she said with a wink.
Beckett rolled up the windows and pulled away before they adopted anything else.
“Okay, we’ve got a problem,” Jax announced.
“I don’t smell it, yet,” Carter said, sniffing.
“Not that kind of a problem,” Jax said, exasperated. “Waffles here is supposed to help me sweep Joey off her feet. With the rest of you and this rolling fart circus, you’re gonna steal my thunder.”
“Fart circus,” Evan snickered.
Valentina chose that moment to vault over the backseat, knocking Tripod’s yowling carrier into the console. She lunged forward, her giant tongue colliding with Beckett’s face. He swerved across the double line and back, but the overcorrection took them onto the berm before Beckett was able to get them back between the lines.
They all heard the sirens at the same time.
When Beckett managed to pull over and roll his window down, Valentina shoved her head out and gave Sheriff Cardona a face full of tongue.
“Is there a problem, officer?”
5
The fire crackled merrily, casting a cozy glow around the room while the blender mixed up margaritas in the kitchen. Joey’s house was full of women and food. And it wasn’t awful. Gia’s sister Emma, in a fitted black turtleneck, had made herself useful mixing drinks and plating food at the island. Eva and Summer snuck cookies and antipasto while discussing the pitfalls of freelance writing.
Gia lounged in front of the fireplace with Aurora who was on her second and last piece of cake. Phoebe relaxed on the sofa with a glass of wine.
“I love your house, Joey,” Emma said, handing her a frosty margarita.
“Oh, uh, thanks,” Joey said, wiping her hands on her jeans before accepting the glass.
