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He looked at her. “It is now.”
Angel smiled to herself and settled back in the comfortable seat.
“I think you’ll like my family,” Ross said.
“What are you going to tell them about me?”
“That you’re my girlfriend. You want some coffee?” He asked, swinging into a gas station. “I’ll be having a late night with work.” He glanced around before parking, though the place was empty. A black car passed and he put a hand on his waist. Did Ross have a strap on him? Damn.
“You look nervous,” Angel said, flashing back to her old life.
“I’m not,” he said. “Are you?”
“Not when you’re with me,” she said.
He smiled. “Stay in here; I can see you from the window.”
“Okay, Ross. It’s not like I’m gonna run off.”
But that wasn’t what he meant, she realized. Was someone targeting him? Troubled, Angel clutched the little chihuahua closer. He had fallen asleep wrapped in one of Ross’s designer towels. Ross only looked down his nose at that, but he hadn’t said anything.
The dog was so cute. She needed to think of a name…
Ross came back with coffee. “Rotten stuff. I got you a hot chocolate.”
“Oh,thanks…”
The dog said, “Grrrrr.”
“He hates me,” Ross said as he buckled in again and set his coffee down, spilling some of the piping hot liquid over his hand. “Ah, fuck. Angel, you better not teach that animal wicked habits.”
“Me? Never.”
“Hmm.”
“He’s a good boy, aren’t you? No, don’t bite Ross’s hand, baby.”
Ross hid a smile at the sight of her happy face. “I wonder who his owners are,” he said aloud. “Probably some scrappy little bastards. He doesn’t look full chihuahua to me.”
“If nobody claims him, can we keep him?”
“We’ll have to take him to my sister-in-law. She runs a vet practice. If someone owns him maybe they have him chipped. It’s like a digital dog tag.”
“What if he doesn’t have a chip?”
“Then we’ll have to put up posters,” Ross mused. “Call some shelters…”
“And then? If nobody comes for him then?”
“We return him to the wild,” said Ross decisively.
“No! Ross, no, you can’t.”
“He can fight it out with the coyotes and eagles and buzzards. He’s a tough little bastard, he’ll do just fine out there.”
“Ross!”
“Maybe you can leave food for him, sometimes,” Ross allowed. “Dry bones, fish guts, old leather shoes…”
