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Ginger was a big dog, though she’d been gentle on the way down.
“You okay?” Was she too heavy for Ma?
“Fine. Fine.” She waved me off. “Just a little startled.”
I patted the dog’s head before closing the door. Beau had already climbed in the back seat.
“Ready to roll?” I fired up the truck.
Ginger licked Ma’s face, and she laughed in a way I wasn’t sure I’d heard since Pop passed. I hoped to hear more of it.
And one night? The only way that dog was coming back to Grey Paws was as a visitor.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cal
“How did all that come about?”
I twirled my finger in the air as we pulled away from Ma’s. Ginger had made herself at home, heading straight for the kitchen. It seemed the two of them were a perfect match.
“I stopped by and asked if she’d come cook for us,” Beau said casually.
“You came here?”
“Believe it or not, they have this thing called GPS. You put in an address and voila.” She kissed her fingertips.
I narrowed my gaze. “You shouldn’t be wandering around alone.”
One of those damn black cars had been at the station all day, and there was still one outside Ma’s. But she still had security . . . and now Ginger.
“Lexie was with me.”
Like that justified anything.
“The two of you shouldn’t be out wandering alone. Did Lincoln know?” I gripped the steering wheel. Beau needed to take her safety more seriously.
“Neither of us need permission from him to go anywhere,” she said tartly. “Or from you, for that matter.”
“Damn it, Beau.” I banged the dash with my fist.
She jumped. “We’re fine. See?”
She motioned down her body, and yeah, she was fine this time. But her father clearly hadn’t stopped stalking her. What if he made a move?
“You should at least let somebody know where you are,” I growled.
She dug through her purse and retrieved her wallet along with a packet. “Here’s where I was.”
At a red light, she handed me a rectangular piece of paper.
A driver’s license.
Beau Calhoun.
My stomach pitched. There it was. Legal.
And another invisible string tethered us together.
