Chapter Fourteen
Until this moment, Ira had never much cared about vehicles. As long as they got him where he needed to go, he was happy. If he owned a car, they never would have gotten all the animals and their paraphernalia into it. As it was, they barely got everything into the jeep.
“What a lot of stuff!” Ira laughed as he closed the back hatch.
Honey’s laugh warmed him to his toes. Her cheerfulness was contagious.
“How about we unload Bill’s stuff at my place first? That way you can pick up your car and take it home. Assuming you trust me to drive those critters home.” He nodded to the back seat where the cats shared a fabric travel carrier alongside the dog’s plastic one.
“Great plan.”
Half an hour later, Ira watched Honey bustle around her tiny kitchen. Her apartment was neat and tidy. It was decorated in peach and brown tones with sparkles of bright colors here and there. It felt earthy and seemed the perfect backdrop for Honey’s natural good looks. Ira choked back a laugh. He was turning into some kind of poet or something.
He peeked around a bit while she was occupied. Her space was clean and uncluttered except for the massive pile of quirky throw pillows on the leather sofa. “Leather?” He asked without meaning to.
“Yup. Second hand from the thrift shop. It’s got years left in it. I had to patch a couple spots, but when I needed to fill the space, it was perfect. I couldn’t see buying new when there are so many used ones to choose from.”
“Makes sense. Some of my stuff came with the house. I’m happy to keep using it. Especially the books.”
He didn’t see a computer anywhere. Not a laptop. Not a desktop. Not even a tablet.
“Didn’t you say you did computer searches or something?” he asked. “I don’t see a computer.”
“Oh, I do. My night job is computer work. My computer is in the office. I’m keeping the door closed to keep the cats out. Don’t want it filled with cat hair. Although I know cats hate closed doors, so I’m not sure the plan’s going to work.”
Something about the way she suddenly turned away had him questioning her honesty. She’d told him once she valued honesty above everything else, yet she seemed to be hiding something. What did she really do on her hidden computer? He was going to have to find a way into that room. Guilt for his own sneaky thoughts struck him. He wasn’t the type to snoop into someone’s private business. Perhaps she’d share them as they got to know each other better.
A second wave of remorse stuck. He’d never told her he was a sniper and had taken lives. That was a big no-no for some. His last girlfriend had dumped him when he went into sniper training.
“Where are the cats?” He asked, mostly to distract himself from the downward spiral of his thoughts. He was going to channel his inner Honey and keep things positive as best he could.
“They scooted under the bed as soon as we arrived. I expect it’ll take time for them to adapt. They were in the shelter way too long. I’ve put their litter box in the ensuite bathroom where they’ll find it easily.”
Bill leaned against Ira’s leg as he stood in the kitchen doorway chatting to Honey. The dog looked up at Ira and grinned when Ira rubbed his ears.
“He likes you,” Honey said as she worked.
“He does seem to.” He couldn’t stop a grin from forming. He was already attached to this mutt. He was beginning to understand the value of service animals for PTSD on a more personal level. Not that he had true PTSD, only a bit of guilt for taking lives. Guilt which led to the occasional nightmare. He had issues, and he was working on them with his shrink. Having someone to talk to about his problems was a good thing. Bill was going to be a great help. He’d spent half the drive over talking to the dog like he was human.
“Grilled cheese work for you? I make them fancy with fried onions and peppers as well as ham inside. I’ve got some cut up veggies too.”
“That sounds great. What can I do to help?” He moved to the sink and washed his hands.
“Silverware is there,” she gestured with her knife, “Can you set the table? Maybe grab the bowl of cut veggies and some dressing from the fridge?”
“Absolutely. Bill, go lie down.” He gently shifted the dog aside with his leg. Bill was sticking close to him, almost within tripping distance. The dependency should change once he adapted to his new life and they took some obedience classes. He chuckled.
“What’s amusing?” Honey asked.
“I was just thinking about how Betty said the dog was fine, but I needed obedience school.”
“She has a point,” Honey said dryly.
Ira gasped and clutched his chest. “Me? Surely you jest. I have no issues. Training or otherwise.” He played along with her joking. “I’m practically perfect in every way.”
“Where’s your umbrella Mary Poppins?” She laughed lightly and elbowed him in the arm. “Can you magic up a set table, Mary, or do I have to do it?”
“Hardy har har. You’re a laugh a minute,” he said through his chuckles.
