George looked up, frowning. “I’m not spoiling him.” He turned to Chewie. “I’m not spoiling you, am I, buddy? Tell your mama I’m not.”
Sylvie took advantage of the situation to give Chewie a hand command Alex had taught her as a joke. The dog yawned loudly, dropped down, and rolled onto his back.
George erupted into laughter.
“See? I’m right, you are.” Then Sylvie laughed, too.
“I stand corrected.” George got to his feet and Sylvie leaned in for a kiss on the cheek. “But he is my grand-dog after all, so I’m entitled.”
“Whatever, Dad.”
“Where’d he learn to do that anyway?” George asked as Sylvie commanded Chewie to get up, then sit.
“Alex taught me.” She couldn’t keep the sunshine out of her voice.
“Alex, huh? First-name basis now.”
“Oh, stop it.”
He chuckled as they took their seats. He handed Sylvie her usual sub, wrapped in white butcher paper. “I’m glad to see you in a good mood, Syl. I was afraid that with what’s going on with the HOA, you’d be sour today. They must have ruled in your favor.”
“Nope, just the opposite. Chewie’s out.” She unwrapped her sandwich.
George scowled. “That harpy. Look, Mom and I are happy to take Chewie in—”
Sylvie held up her hand. “Thanks, but Chewie’s one stray you don’t need to worry about. Alex already offered the Watchdog kennels and I took him up on it.”
George raised an eyebrow. “First,youwere never a stray. Second, isthatwhy you’re in such a good mood? Because you found a place for Chewie?”
Oh, she wasn’t about to fall into his trap. She knew it too well. “Why do you think I’m happy, Sarge?” She took a bite.
He showed her his palms. “I’m not one to speculate.”
“Oh, don’t BS me, speculation is your jam. What do you know about Alex?” She leaned forward. “I know you have yoursources.” By sources, she meant Arden Volker, the daughter of George’s best friend, and the fiancée of Kyle McGuire who ran Watchdog.
“You know, I haven’t talked to little Ardie for a while. Cyn and I should have her and Kyle over.”
“Oh, sothenyou can grill her about Alex?”
George grinned. “You wanna come over, too?”
Sylvie laughed. “You’re terrible.”
George bit into his sub and chewed. Then he said, “Syl, I’m just glad to see you happy for a change. As far as Alex goes, I know he and Kyle go way back, and that Kyle trusts him with his life. I also know that Kyle’s good people. So, if my girl wants a date with Alex, that’s fine by me.” He leaned forward. “For now. But if he’s not good to you, we’ll have a different talk.”
“We’re not dating.” She felt her face flush. “We’re just going out to dinner tonight for the first time. To discuss Chewie,” she added, “so, it’s not even a real date.”
“But you hope it is.”
But I hope it isshe couldn’t help thinking. She only shrugged a shoulder and tried to look impassive.
George nodded, satisfied, and sat back in his chair.
They ate in silence for a few minutes while Sylvie studied her dad. Something was bothering him, but he was covering it up well. She could tell by the way the wrinkles around his eyes stayed there—that little bit of tension he carried in his face always gave him away at poker, too.
“Anything you wanna talk about, Dad?” She hoped switching back to calling him that might open him up.
He snorted and waved her off. “It’s just work. I got word today that the city of Boulder’s sending extra patrols for the musical festival this year.”
