“Again, the bowl is on my side. You had to cross it to pour the damn food!”
“That’s not true. I could, hypothetically, dump the food from my side into your bowl.”
“The dog’s bowl.”
“Hypothetically speaking, if I had done such a thing, that would not be breaking any of your rules.”
“I told you not to feed my dog.”
“Your dog?”
“The dog,” he quickly corrected. “That dog. The nuisance you keep feeding so he shows up at my door!”
“Well, as I said, these are my treats.”
“They look exactly the same as the food in his bowl!”
“Must be the same manufacturer as the brand that whoever was filling your bowl was using.”
His teeth ground hard as he watched me. Yes, I knew I was needling him, and that wasn’t typically something I enjoyed. I tended to be happy all the time and relished in making others just as cheery as me, but something about this man just made me want to see how far I could push him.
“Keep your damn food off my lawn, and stop feeding the dog.”
As he turned to stalk away, I just couldn’t resist one last jab. “You know, a storm is coming!”
“Good!”
“And we’re supposed to get a lot of snow.”
“Not my problem!” he called over his shoulder.
“Milo is going to get awfully cold outside!” I huffed. “Don’t you care at all?”
Spinning on his heel, he marched right back over to the imaginary line and got in my face. “The dog is not mine. Do you know what I care about?”
“Tell me. I’m dying to know.”
“I care about keeping muddy prints out of my house. I care about fleas and ticks staying outdoors where they belong. No animal will ever live in my house, no matter what!”
I was seething, angrier than I’d ever been in my life. The dog worshipped this man for whatever reason, and he didn’t care at all. The dog didn’t come to my house. He only sat outside JR’s, and when the storm hit, he would freeze to death.
And for what?
Because JR couldn’t be nice enough to open his home to a dog who obviously adored him?
“Josie?” someone called out.
I was so busy in my staring contest with JR that I didn’t hear anyone pull up. Tearing my gaze from his, my eyes connected with the one man I really didn’t want to see. Brody was nice, but his mother had been trying to push us together for years.
“Brody,” I sighed. “What are you doing here?”
“Uh…Ma said to drop these off for you.” He lifted a plate of cookies in the air, but his eyes were locked on the exchange between JR and me.
“Who are you?” JR snapped.
“A friend.”
“Those better not be dog treats.”
