Page 6

A few crumbs short of a biscuit

Sophie

It was not a great morning. I hadn’t slept well, turning Diane’s offer over in my head and wondering what to do about the new tenant.

I’d messaged my brother, again, but he didn’t get back to me.

He was like that when he was in a recording session.

Totally immersed in what he was doing. I got absorbed in my job, but only for a few hours at a time.

When my brother was creating, he’d forget everything except the music for days, barely remembering to eat and possibly sleep.

He certainly wouldn’t answer any messages till he was ready, so for now I was stuck.

I focused on my current repair jobs, wanting to get done whatever tasks needed my noisier machines before the tenant returned.

Of course, when I was at the trickiest part of shaping some wood, I’d been interrupted by someone at the gate with a delivery. I swore under my breath before turning to the gate camera by the desk in the kitchen area of my workshop and pressed the button for the speaker. “Can I help you?”

“Delivery.”

“Who’s it for?”

A moment. “Can’t read the name. But this is the address I was given.”

“Can you show me? And also your ID?”

Between fans and his exes, my brother needed security, and I wouldn’t allow just anyone on the property. This wasn’t a company I was familiar with.

I peered through the camera at the waybill. I couldn’t make out the name either, but the address was clear. Whatever it was had come from Canada, which was where Cash was right now. His handwriting was atrocious so there was a good chance he’d sent this.

The driver flashed what appeared to be an official-looking badge. I’d have to check it out. I sighed.

“How big is the package?” Knowing Cash, it could be anything from an album to a major appliance.

The guy looked behind him. “The crate is about a foot high, foot and a half long, maybe a foot wide.”

“Is it heavy?” Maybe it was something I could pick up from the gate and take to the house myself.

“Nah, maybe ten, fifteen pounds.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

I wiped the sawdust off my T-shirt and shorts and headed to the gate, making sure I had my house keys and my ID with me.

The delivery driver was standing by the gate, holding a crate by the handle. It had a grate at the front, and from inside there was a low, growling noise. I shook my head. Growling? What the ? —

“Is that a dog?”

“Supposedly. There’s a warning he bites.”

I was about to tell him I wasn’t taking any dog when I remembered Mountain Man. Was this his dog? Was he from Canada? “Are you sure this is the right place?”

The delivery man shoved a tablet at me. “This is the address, right?”

I looked down, and yeah, that was this address. Animals weren’t even the strangest things that had been delivered here.

“I didn’t order a dog.” Was it really a dog? What else growled and was that size? “Maybe you should confirm with someone that this is where it’s supposed to go.” I didn’t even know Mountain Man’s name to check if it was his.

“This animal has been on a plane for about seven hours. You really gonna make it stay in there longer while we work this out? I was given this address. Someone with this phone number confirmed the dog to be delivered.” Cash’s phone number.

The growling continued. The driver was right, I couldn’t just leave the dog indefinitely. “Fine. I’ll take it.”

I signed off on the tablet, then was given the dog crate. There was a small container of food, and the Do Not Touch! Leave Alone! labels. From the nonstop growling, I believed he would bite and had no desire to get any closer to him.

The driver was backing onto the street in moments.

I stood, watching the van leave. What was I supposed to do with the dog?

Goober was going to throw a literal hissy fit.

I’d better keep the two of them apart. Goober was at the workshop, so it was probably better to take the dog to the house, but first I’d grab my phone so I could let Cash know how very pleased I was to get a surprise animal along with a surprise tenant.

If he could answer the delivery people, he could damned well answer my questions.

There was no sign of Goober when the dog and I got to the carriage house.

She’d probably snuck out while I was gone.

She had almost magical abilities to get in and out of buildings.

But if she wasn’t here, I would keep the dog with me for now.

If Mountain Man showed up, he could claim his animal.

I hoped he’d be properly grateful. Dog sitting was not one of my responsibilities.

I set the crate on a mostly empty worktable at the side of the workshop. I could see beady eyes staring through the grate while the growling continued. “What am I supposed to do with you?”

More growling.

“It was a rhetorical question.” The dog probably needed water, and to pee. Maybe some reassurance. But I had no intention of putting my hand close enough to be bitten. I couldn’t see a leash, and I didn’t want to lose the animal in the huge gardens of Cash’s property.

I could let it out in the workshop. Unless the dog had the same kind of ninja skills as Goober, it couldn’t get out through a window if I closed the door.

Better yet, I could leave it on the table and that should keep it contained.

I covered the tabletop with a tarp, resigned to cleaning up dog pee and maybe worse.

Once I had a coffee mug filled with enough water that an animal could drink from it set out there, I made sure that anything valuable was safely out of reach.

“Here’s the deal, dog. I’ll open the door so you can have some water and stretch your legs. The floor’s a long way down, so have your drink, maybe take a pee, and then back in the crate. Deal?”

The growling wasn’t reassuring, but the floor was several feet down so there wasn’t much else for it to do.

I opened the latch just as I saw a flash of yellow from the corner of my eye. Goober hadn’t left after all.

“Wait!” I yelled, but it was too late. Goober leapt onto the workbench just before a small, hairy thing charged out of the crate. A growl and hissing started. The dog barked and the cat arched, puffing up its fur.

Goober was at least twice as big as the dog that way, focused on it with single-minded attention. I knew what that meant. She yowled, the dog growled, and I threw myself between them before World War III ignited among my expensive instruments and tools.

I tackled Goober, getting scratched as a reward.

The crate fell to the floor and the dog jumped down from the bench, showing more athletic ability than I’d expected before hiding back inside it.

I wrestled a protesting and spitting Goober into the bathroom and shut the door, ignoring the howls she made at the indignity.

I huffed a breath. Okay, the two animals were separated. Now it was time to figure out what to do about the dog. I didn’t think it was harmed, but I wasn’t going to reach inside that crate and risk another wound.

I stood in front of it, absently sucking at the bleeding scratch on my hand as I tried to imagine why Mountain Man would spend money to ship this particularly unpleasant specimen all the way from Canada.

If he was a musician, as I expected, he’d better plan to take the animal with him when he traveled because I was not babysitting that.

I heard steps, and Mountain Man, now with a trimmed beard, shoved the door open.

“What the hell are you doing to my dog?” He dropped to the front of the crate, making soothing sounds. “Everything’s okay, Beast. I’ll take care of it.”

Beast? How appropriate. Now, if he’d just remove the dog, I could get on with my day. I sighed. Could I, if he was back? How noise-sensitive was he?

Goober let out another howl from the bathroom. Mountain Man’s head whipped around. “What the fuck was that ?”

I hadn’t noticed him much yesterday, too upset about his existence to look past the wild hair.

Now I saw green eyes and tanned cheeks above the beard.

Nose with a bend from being broken at some point.

The rangy build my ex had, but whereas Ollie always looked polished and presentable, this man still looked like he’d been living in the bush for a while.

“ That’s the animal who lives here. Maybe you can take that one”—I jerked my head at the crate—“with you?”

He glanced back at the dog, who had ventured out of the protection of his crate and was still growling but otherwise seemed fine. Mountain Man pushed to his feet. Well over six feet, with broad shoulders, jeans stretched by big thighs. Not that I needed to notice.

He met my gaze. “My apologies. They weren’t supposed to deliver the dog when I wasn’t here. They messaged but I didn’t have my phone on me. They shouldn’t have brought him here before I said I was around to get him.”

“Well, I’m glad he’s yours and I didn’t take delivery of a random dog. I opened his crate because the delivery driver said he just got off the plane, so I thought he’d need to pee and drink, but…”

We’d have to figure out what was going to happen as far as my work went, but right now I wanted to get the two of them out of the shop so I could let Goober out of the bathroom before her howls broke my eardrums. She was louder than any noise my machines generated.

He tapped his fingers on his leg. “Thanks. Should we discuss details?”

“What details?”

He looked down at his dog. “I was told someone would help. Like, taking care of Beast when I’m not here? Is there Wi-Fi? Where should I order food and pet supplies from? Do I tell you when those deliveries are coming? I didn’t even think of that yesterday.”

What the actual hell? “Taking care of your dog?”

“I’ll be traveling.”

“Lucky you,” I responded flatly.

He shot me a wary glance. “Maybe I should talk to your boss.”

“My boss?”

“The landlord? I don’t want to be rude, but you don’t seem to be the right person for me to deal with.”

I shook my head to clear it. “You’re totally right, that I’m not the person you should be dealing with, because you seem to be under the misapprehension that I’m an employee here and someone who needs to take care of your problems.”

“Aren’t—”

“This”—I swept a hand around the space we were standing in—“is my workshop. I’m a luthier.

Not a dog sitter. I rent the space. The whole property belongs to my brother.

He employs people to do the maintenance and upkeep, and if dog babysitting and accepting deliveries is part of your agreement, you’ll need to discuss that with him. ”

His dog growled, but whether at me or Goober I wasn’t sure.

“I’m sorry—I was just going on the instructions Elsa sent me.” He pulled out his phone.

Cash didn’t work with any Elsas that I knew of. Had he taken on someone new? Elsa wasn’t that common a name around here, and the only one I knew of was?—

“Elsa Harbourn,” Mountain Man read.

My jaw dropped. “What? Elsa Harbourn ?” There couldn’t be two of them.

He looked up at me. “So maybe you do need to deal with this?”

No, no, no . Couldn’t be happening. “Still no. My brother was in a session so he didn’t give me any details, but I’m not his employee just because I know Elsa.”

“I needed a place with the dog, and this is what the team came up with.”

“Team,” I repeated flatly. He was looking at me like I was a few crumbs short of a biscuit, and I couldn’t blame him. My head was spinning as I tried to compute what he was saying.

“The Austin Aces—you know, the hockey team.”

“Oh, I know the team.”

“Do you work for them?”

“No, and my brother isn’t connected to the team either. My dad is a friend of the owner, which is how this would have been connected.”

“So you have nothing to do with the Aces.”

“Nope. My ex, however, is their new goalie coach.”

His eyes opened wide. “Otts?”

“Oliver Trent.”

He grimaced.

I nodded. “Are you playing on the team?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I never introduced myself. I’m Daniel Rempel, a goalie.”

What the hell? Ollie’s nemesis? Staying here? My jaw dropped. His head cocked and one eyebrow lifted.

I swallowed. “I’m Sophie Williams. Formerly Trent.”

He looked like he’d been hit on the back of his head with a hammer. “Fuck.”

The fuckest of fucks.