Page 11 of One Last Stand
“—imagine that he doesn’t have an owner.” The last thing Shep wanted was to let the team know, well, that he was running away. Or maybe just trying to move on, forget.
Start over.
Right. As if. He’d given his stupid heart away to London Brooks long ago, and frankly, he didn’t have a hope of getting it back.
Flynn got up. “I love dogs.”
“Maybe you can take him.” Shep didn’t know why he’d said that—just, well, maybe the dog had nudged into a nook or cranny of his heart.
“No . . . no. I am way too busy for a dog.” She looked at Axel. “I can barely keep a boyfriend.”
“I’ll sleep on your porch if I have to,” Axel said, winking. He glanced at Shep, and Shep remembered a recent conversation about Axel hoping to propose after he’d found a place to live that wasn’t his brother’s basement.
Flynn walked over to Axel to peer over his shoulder. “Find anything?”
“Everything is too expensive or too run-down or in a bad neighborhood or . . . I don’t know. I don’t like anything.”
“Spoken like a man who has a massive flatscreen and a live-in chef who cooks him steaks every Friday night.”
“A crabby, bossy chef who also collects rent from me and tells me to turn off the lights every time I come upstairs.” He glanced at Shep. “Besides, as soon as Tillie and Hazel get back from Florida, I think Moose hasplans.”
That made sense. Moose had been in love with Tillie from back when she was just his favorite waitress at the Skyport Diner. Felt weird to think of Tillie like that now.
Now she’d blown them all away with her background as a US Marine, an MMA fighter, and two-time champion of the Iron Maiden competition.
With a daughter.
“That’s a lot to consider—taking on an instant family,” Shep said. “Lots of hidden land mines there.”
“Can’t plan for every contingency, Shep,” Axel said. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Shep shrugged. “It’s better than following your impulses. Like leaping onto a sinking ship without an exit strategy. . . .”
Axel glanced at Flynn. “I dunno. That seemed to turn out all right.”
Shep shook his head, refrained from rolling his eyes. Butokay, maybe.
He just never wanted to live life that unhinged, thank you. People who thought ahead didn’t end up in over their heads, out of control and, well, in a tree facedown.
He’d taken Flynn’s place, petting the dog. “What are you looking for?”
“A house. A condo. A townhome. Anything. I need to get out of my brother’s basement.”
“Says his girlfriend.” Flynn looked over at Shep and winked.
Shep gave them a smile and got up. “Need something to drink while I work out, buddy?” He walked over to the cupboard, found a bowl, filled it, and then brought it over to the entry, where he set it on the floor.
The dog walked over, looked at the bowl. And obviously wasn’t thrilled, because he stuck his wet snout into Shep’s hand and nudged it.
“Oh, I see how it is.” He’d found some cheese sticks in his refrigerator this morning, in lieu of dog food, and must have created a monster. Now he pulled out his last string cheese packet from his bag.
“You need to give that animal real food.”
“He loves string cheese.” He knelt and fed him, breaking the cheese into pieces.
“Methinks someone is in a better place today,” Flynn said quietly.
Shep looked at her, the words a hot sliver through him.Oh, maybe. But he wasn’t sure he liked it. “I’m going to work out.”