Page 39 of Love in Mission City

“Thanks for everything. I’m sorry I overreacted.”

“You’re a good daddy. You worried.” He said the words for my benefit, but he crooned them to Rosebud as he scratched her favorite spot—under her chin. Finally, he rose. “Contract and then I’ll be back.” He slipped out.

Sheffield bolted over to me, leapt onto the couch next to me, and gave me his forlorn look.

Rosebud planted herself at my feet.

I was fucked.

Chapter Five

Carter

To my chagrin, Byron recovered quickly from the wicked cold, and by Tuesday, he thanked me for the help and said he’d be fine.

I tried to point out with all the crazy hours he worked, that surely the dogs needed more exercise.

He groused.

I attempted to point out that I needed to take more breaks or my muscles would atrophy.

He rolled his eyes.

I texted twice a day. Not too much, but enough to remind him I was here and wanting to connect.

His return texts were curt.

And yet I didn’t give up.

The next Saturday evening, I knocked on his door.

Barking accompanied anI’m coming.

Moments later, he opened the door, trying to hold the dogs back.

Rosebud the escape artist managed to run into the hall.

I caught her easily.

“I see your muscles are not atrophying.”

“You noticed my muscles?”

He rolled his eyes.

I was undeterred. “Okay, so you’ve got to help me out. I hit reorder on Boston Pizza and they sent me a chicken salad. You have to come eat it.”

“Put it in your fridge and eat it tomorrow.”

“Uh, seriously? Lettuce wilts. Come on. I also got baby carrots for—”

Sheffield barked like a possessed demon.

“Hush, you.” Byron hissed the words.

The dog stopped, but eyed him.

He sighed. “Fine. But you need to delete the order so thismistakedoesn’t occur again. It’s a waste of money.”