“Doth does,” Court agreed.
I went back to my scaffolding and dragged it over a few inches. “If I don’t get the rest of these up, then we can’t go home, Jenna.”
“Fine, fine.” She got up with a small groan. “My feet are killing me. I’m going to finish up the bakery case. You want anything, Court?”
“Got any of those lemon blueberry muffins left?”
“I do.” Jenna linked her arm around Courtney’s. “C’mon, I’ll feed you and we can check with the Haven Hawks to see if they have any more details about our mystery man.”
I rolled my eyes. Our town Facebook page was impressive, but I doubted they’d get any additional information about him.
Now, I just needed to get this done so I could go home and see my dog. Why I invited myself over for food was beyond me.
I’d just pick up Mouse and go home to my own food.
That was exactly what I’d do.
Resolute, I picked up my pliers and ignored my aching shoulders.
TEN
Dutch
“Don’t stareat me like that.”
Mouse gave his fifth huge sigh as he dropped his head onto his paws. He was laying on the threshold of the kitchen, staring longingly at the salmon that had been simmering in the garlic, sun dried tomatoes, and spinach.
I glanced at the clock.
I wasn’t entirely sure what to feed this woman or if she would actually show up at ten like we’d discussed.
“It’s not a date.”
Mouse whined and inched a little further into the kitchen.
“Hey.”
He put his head down with a huff.
“You had your dinner. And it was the good stuff. Not kibble.”
The cashier at the local pet store had seen me coming a mile away. Mouse sniffed around through the treats and the vast array of bags of food. I’d walked out of there with a dog bed the size of a damn mattress as well as food, toys, dog shampoo, and a sturdy leash.
“You’re still not my dog.”
He whined and his tail swished over the hardwood floor.
“All that is going with you back to Phoebe’s house.”
He barked as if in reply.
“I’m not kidding.” I shook the pan to make sure the fish wasn’t sticking to the bottom. I checked the vegetables and potatoes I had under the broiler, then pulled out the smaller pan I’d made just for Mouse.
I’d looked up some dos and don’ts for dogs and garlic was a big no.
Raw vegetables were great to add to their food, but Mouse had turned his nose up at that option. Maybe roasted with a little chicken broth would change his mind. I checked the time again and turned the salmon down to simmer.
I had a feeling Phoebe didn’t exactly pay attention to a schedule.
