“What?”
“You said that like dragons exist.”
Uriel drank his coffee.
“Dragons. Exist.” Joe blinked about twelve times, then stared suspiciously at his coffee cup.
“What was it you called me?” Uriel asked. “Oh, right. Sweet summer child.”
Joe scoffed. “You’re making it up. No way.”
“Way. Dragons are so much better than hellhounds, though. Those guys are giant pains in the—”
Ding. Ding ding. Ding.
The rapid-fire messages arriving on Joe’s phone couldn’t be good. Joe looked around the room with a frown, trying to locate the sound.
“It’s on the charger.”
Uriel nodded his head toward the charging station. Joe spun around and looked at it before scowling over his shoulder at Uriel.
“Exactly when did you put my phone on the charger?” Joe’s tone matched the frown on his face.
“What? Why are you mad?”
Ding. Ding.
Joe poked him. “That means you were out of bed and I didn’t know it, because I distinctly remember my phone being in my pants when I took them off last night.”
“Oh, you remember that, do you?”
“Very clearly.”
Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.
“Would you please see who is messaging you?”
“Why? Is it bugging you? Want me to show you how many notifications I have? How about how many unread emails? Huh? Huh?”
“Oh, don’t worry. I changed your settings last night when I plugged in your phone. Those glaring red numbers aren’t there anymore.”
Joe gasped and grabbed his phone.
Uriel chuckled into his coffee. Mission accomplished.
“You’re a lying liar wholies,” Joe complained. He opened his messages and gasped. “Oh, no.”
“What?”
Joe sighed. “Javier is serenading me.”
“Pretty sure he isn’t,” Uriel said.
“Well, he’s serenading the carriage house.”
“Then it’s convenient you aren’t there.”
Joe elbowed Uriel in the side. “Linus wants me to come make it stop. The guests at the inn are complaining.”
