“You wanted a white Christmas. I have no control over the weather, but I had some sway with the property management company. You might not want the halls decks, but in a couple of weeks, you’ll be glad I did what I did, so don’t call to get rid of them.”
The guy knew her too well, but then again, they had that twin bond. Still, she felt compelled to defend herself. “Did I saw I was doing that?”
“No, but you thought it.” Alek laughed.
She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“You’ve got to admit, it’s a nice touch,” he added.
“You’ll make someone a great husband.”
He laughed. “Not until I retire.”
“Can’t keep away from the puck bunnies.”
“Supermodels and singers,” he said a beat later.
“You’ll change your mind when you meet the right woman.”
“After I retire,” Alek repeated.
“Stop being a diva, Ransom, and set a better example for the rookies,” a male voice bellowed through the cell phone. “Hit the ice now.”
“Gotta go, sis. Love ya.”
“Love you.” Tasha disconnected from the call.
The rest of the day was hers to do whatever she wanted. A meal out sounded good.
Her cell phone buzzed with a text notification. Had Alek forgotten to tell her something? She glanced at her phone.
Mom:Let’s compromise. You stay in that small town until the 23rd. Then you meet us at your brother’s place on Christmas Eve.
That wasn’t a compromise. That was Mom trying to get what she wanted. Tasha groaned.
Forget eating. She needed a nap.
* * *
That evening, a pot of pasta sauce simmered next to a large pot of noodles boiling in Elias’s kitchen. He’d spend the day trying to get used to having a dog in the house. That meant practicing commands, which Higgins knew, playing fetch, which the dog appeared to enjoy, and figuring out what being a foster dog parent meant, which he still didn’t have a clue.
He realized one thing, however. Higgins had separation anxiety whenever Elias went into the garage or to the bathroom and closed the door. The dog’s whimpering about ripped his heart out of his chest. So Higgins had followed Elias everywhere as if he would suddenly vanish.
Elias might have to ask Sabine if there was anything he could. Did doggy psychiatrists exist? Maybe Roman Byrne, a local veterinarian could help. For now, Higgins sat at Elias’s feet, appearing content.
“Hungry?”
A tail wag was the response.
Elias reread Sabine’s instructions and placed them on the counter. He glanced at the time.
“Ten more minutes. Then you can have dinner.”
Higgins panted.
The panting wasn’t new, but Elias didn’t know if it was normal. He checked the instructions to find nothing about panting. Maybe the dog was dehydrated.
He pointed at the full water bowl. “Drink some water if you’re thirsty.”
