Liberty moved around me to look him over, then back a broad grin splitting her face. “Was I interrupting?”
“No, you were not,” I said tightly.
She instantly went from delighted to mama bear. “Or should I be kicking his ass?” She took a step toward Dutch, her fingers balling into fists.
I grabbed her arm. “Okay, throttle it back there Pikachu.”
Liberty sneered at me. “I hate when you call me that.”
“Better than Porkie,” Dutch muttered.
I snickered. The laughter breaking some of the annoyed sadness.
Liberty arched a brow at him, then to me. “Do I want to know?”
“It’s nothing. Dutch just did a very good impression of a porcupine when I first met him.” I crossed my arms under my boobs. “Now he’s just giving a cactus a run for its money.”
He winced. “I deserved that.”
“You did. Now I’m going to go hang out with my sister and talk shit about you. Go away.”
He closed his eyes and tipped back his head. “Phoebe.”
I wanted to hold onto my mad. Being a people pleaser was a pain in the ass. “Mouse, go with Dutch.”
Mouse slunk over to me, knowing something was up between us. He leaned on me for a few pets then went over to Dutch and leaned hard against his leg.
Dutch sighed and sunk his fingers into the dog’s fur. They’d both soothe each other.
Before I could cave, I turned on my heel and climbed the incline of my driveway to the side door of my house.
“I’m watching you, buddy.” Liberty clomped after me. “What did I interrupt? I’m here for the shit talking, by the way. You never gripe about anyone. It’s not natural to be so nice. Glad to see it.”
I grabbed my bag out of my truck and tossed my sister my keys. “Take off those boots before you track God knows what into my house.”
“Fine.” She attacked her laces, toeing off the work boots and knocking them into the side of my steps. Flakes of mud immediately crumbled away and flaked all over the stoop.
I sighed. At least it wasn’t inside.
She left them on the stoop and hurried inside. “You didn’t tell me the new neighbor was fine.”
“I didn’t tell you anything about him.”
“Which is why I should have been suspish.” She yelled over her shoulder.
By the time I got in the house she already had her head in my fridge.
“Go. I don’t need you burning something.”
She leaned back, a piece of deli meat already in her mouth. “What? I can just make a sandwich.”
I shooed her away. “I have tomatoes to use up. How about grilled ham and cheese with tomato?”
“I won’t say no, but I’m starving already!”
I pushed her out of the way and took a chunk of leftover mozzarella out of the fridge along with the balsamic glaze I’d made for pizza the other day with Dutch. “Sit down.”
“Fine.” She went around the kitchen island and plopped into one of the stools. “So tell me about the coffeehouse-poet-looking dude.”
