“I might have looked at some dogs, done a little research.”
Royce glanced over at his passenger, the love of his life. Briar was staring straight ahead and nibbling at the inside of her lip. He refocused on the highway.
“Okay, that’s great. What did you find out?”
He flicked on the blinker, turned into the tavern’s parking lot, and released an irritated groan. Some asshole had parked across three spaces and another jerk had parked in such a way that there wasn’t enough space to fit his new Fed-Mobile (Briar’s words) between it and Topher’s VW van.
“Fucking morons.”
“Pull around back. There’ll be space back there.”
Irrationally, Royce hated parking in the back. He didn’t like the lack of security, and it was the unofficial smoking area.
“Fine.”
“Just do it. It won’t kill you this once.”
“I just washed the car,” he grumbled as he navigated the lane between the tavern and the thrift store. A puddle he couldn’t avoid heaved its muddy contents onto the fender.
“Who washes their car in February anyway?” Briar wanted to know.
Royce ignored her. They emerged from between the buildings and Royce saw that Caleb’s massive SUV was parked there along with a black Ford pickup he didn’t recognize. As he pulled next to Caleb’s, he looked over and saw Caleb and Evi were still sitting in the front. Evi smiled and gave him a finger wave.
“Hey, you guys,” Briar said cheerfully when they met at the back of the cars. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Fancy that!” said Evi brightly as Caleb wrapped a possessive arm around her.
Royce narrowed his eyes at Caleb’s soon-to-be wife, but she didn’t seem to notice.
They all turned to look as they heard the driver of the Ford open the door. A woman Royce didn’t recognize appeared from around the other side of her truck. She smiled and waved them before unlocking and lifting up the back window.
Royce wanted to get inside. The ring was burning a hole in is his pocket. “What are we all standing around for? I don't know about you guys, but I’m starving.” Hell, maybe he should pop the question here and get it over with before he gave himself indigestion.
“I might have done a tiny bit more than research dogs.”
Royce looked over at Briar, her blue eyes wide with false innocence. He glanced back over at the truck. Thumping and scuffle sounds came from the back of it, followed by a yip. Peering closer, Royce saw a tail. No, two golden brown tails. The driver pulled the gate down, too, and inside the truck were two crates. A dog in each one.
“What’s going on?” Royce asked.
Caleb shrugged, not looking him in the eye. Evi’s grin grew larger as she also didn’t reply to his question. Briar bounced on her toes.
Obviously, there were dogs in the truck. Not puppies but still young. From what Royce could see, they seemed to be mixes. Maybe German Shepard and Labrador? Royce moved closer to the back of the truck and twin pairs of eyes stared back. One tail thumped. The other dog twitched an ear.
“I couldn’t decide so I, um, kind of maybe adopted them both,” Briar said from right behind him. “See, they both failed their training and I couldn’t just leave them there.”
“What are their names?” Royce asked, reaching out a hand so first one dog and then the other could sniff him.
“The one on the left is Starsky, the other is Hutch,” Briar said.
“Starsky… and Hutch.” One of the worst (or best, depending on how he thought about it) TV representations of policing. Starsky’s long tongue drooped from between his teeth. Hutch thumped his tail again and turned in a circle for no reason.
Royce turned to Briar, amazed again that of all the people in the world she had chosen him. Her brows were drawn together, and she was nibbling her lip again. Did she think he would say no to the cutest dogs he’d ever seen? Dipping his hand into his pocket, Royce fingered the ring. It was right there, ready and waiting.
“Briar?”
“Yes?” She was watching the dogs but there must’ve been something in his tone because she focused her attention on him.
He pulled the ring out of his pocket, holding it up between his thumb and index finger, his heart pounding a million miles an hour and making him feel slightly faint. Who knew four little words were so scary?