“Yeah, you’re staying home.”
“Tonight?” I asked, sand shifting under my feet. Had I’d woken up in the wrong world, with the wrong Ryder?
This was our house, that was definitely the chonky dragon pig sitting on my foot, and Ryder was one hundred percent walking out the door, swinging on his overcoat and whistling.
Spud danced and wagged until Ryder gave him an ear scratch.
“Six!” Ryder said right before the door closed.
“Six,” I repeated.
Spud galumphed over to me and danced around, barking at the dragon pig, running away and crouching, then barking at the dragon pig some more. He wanted to play.
Spud’s feet were sandy which meant Ryder had taken him out for a run.
“Okay. Dog ran, breakfast made, dishes done. What are you up to Ryder Bailey?”
The business card hadThe Westwindprinted across it in a breezy little swirl. It was a little cliff-edge restaurant where people booked out small special events like anniversaries and Valentine’s Day dates.
I’d been told the decor was totally romantic schmaltz, but the food was good and the desserts wonderful. I’d never been there before.
I glanced at the wall calendar. Not his birthday, not mine.
“Maybe he’s celebrating the end of the build?”
The dragon pig made little grunty, snuffle sounds and trotted off to the living room.
“You coming with me today?” I grabbed food, poured coffee, and ate breakfast standing.
The dragon pig lorded over the living room, Spud adorning it with toy after toy, each dug out of his personal pile, carried over to the dragon pig, and dropped in front of it.
Spud sat and waited, tail wagging. As soon as the dragon pig grunted approval, Spud barked and ran full speed back to the toys to find the next offering. The dragon pig fluffed and pushed and stacked the growing hoard into the size and shape of pile it desired.
There were days like this when the dragon pig just wanted to stay home and be worshiped by his single fuzziest of fans.
“You two look like you’re doing okay here. I’ll try to come by in the afternoon in case anyone needs a bathroom break.”
The dragon pigoinked twice.
“Okay, fine. If Spud needs a bathroom break. I know you don’t work that way.”
It was true. The dragon did not poop. That was one of the upsides to having a dragon pig, although his ability to find demons who were hiding and bring them to me had also come in handy.
“Be good.” Spud found a skunk with a good squeak in it, and was shaking the holy living stuffing out of it. I hadn’t even put my hand on the knob before my phone rang.
“Delaney Reed.”
“Boss,” Shoe said. “Mrs. Yates called.”
“About her penguin?”
“Yup.”
“Stolen again?”
“Nope.”
“That’s…okay. Why is she calling?”
