For all his craziness, he does get it over quickly. The needle is in and out before Frankie has a complete panic attack and jumps into Spencer's waiting arms.
Dr. Pike reaches into his lab coat pocket and pulls out a handful of deep red, little balls. He sticks his hand up to Frankie's nose and lets her lick a few from his palm. When she's eaten three or four of them, he pulls his hand back and then pops two into his own mouth.
I stop scratching Frankie's ear.
Spencer stops patting her on the top of her head.
Dr. Pike shrugs and then eats the third and last treat from his hand. "Dog treats these days are pretty delicious."
I hold my look of disbelief while not speaking as Spencer pays the doctor for the vaccine. It stays steadily hidden as we walk through the lot. I even get the door closed before I make a comment.
“You do realize your vet is crazy, right?” I ask while Spencer starts up the truck.
He nods. “He is. Now smile and wave at the crazy man.”
Dr. Pike steps onto the front porch of the vet’s office, and I immediately raise my hand, nod, and wave as we pull away.
“I live over in Kensington Place.” Spencer mentions the brand-new fancy apartments Pierce finished construction on last year. “Can I make up for this adventurous morning by cooking lunch?”
“I don’t know. I just witnessed a grown man eat dog treats as a snack. It needs to be a really delicious lunch.”
Spencer makes a left and chuckles once. “I’d better order out then.”
CHAPTER FOUR
"Thanks for serving me dinner." Spencer cuts off another large bite of his chicken.
I shrug while looking down at my plate. It's a chicken breast with some broccoli from a frozen bag on the side. "After the lunch you made, this is no big deal."
Spencer takes another bite of his chicken and moans while chewing. I’ve never had a man moan about my cooking before.
We ate lunch in his apartment, and while it was only a sub, it was a delicious sub. All the ingredients were there: tomatoes, lettuce, mayo, cucumbers, and olives. Total perfection. One of those subs you could make at home yourself but are always too lazy.
"That's where you're wrong. I didn't make lunch. I pulled out what Anessa sent me home with last night."
"Oh." One million thoughts run through my head as my fork stops its projections to my mouth. Have I spent the last two days hanging out with someone dating the new town baker? What about Bennett?
Spencer crams another bite of chicken into his mouth like he’s not concerned that he’s cheating on his girlfriend—who makes really awesome subs.
He finishes chewing and takes a large swallow. "She's dating one of the guys at Pelican Bay Security. Whenever one of us is on Anessa guard duty, she feels bad and supplies the food."
"You have to guard Bennett’s girlfriends? Is running a bakery dangerous?"
Spencer laughs and stabs a piece of broccoli with his fork. "It's a long story."
From the way he slowly chews his bite of food, I gather that he doesn't plan to share it. Unfortunately for him, I’m ready with more questions. Hundreds more. “What exactly is your job title at Pelican Bay Security? I thought Ridge installed alarms?"
That’s only partially true. With as many of his guys who visit the ER and the other people he sends there himself, most of us know more is going on than meets the eye. But we all turn our heads and pretend it’s not anything out of the ordinary.
"You don't really know what Ridge does until you need his services." Spencer pauses dramatically until I meet his eyes. "And you need to hope you never need his services."
"Okay… That doesn’t tell me much but sounds quite scary."
He finishes the last bite of food on his plate and leaves me staring at my half of a chicken. Maybe he doesn't get home-cooked food often. "Sorry, I don’t mean to be scary, but Ridge employees half a dozen former military men on either a full salary base or contract terms. He's doing a lot more than installing security alarms."
"But what is it thatyoudo exactly?"
Spencer leans back in his chair with his eyes cast to the ceiling like he's thinking deeply about what and how he plans to answer me.
