“Come on, Roscoe,” Rhonan says in the highest octave I’ve heard his voice yet. “Come here.” He gets within inches of my dog, but then Roscoe takes off again. “Come here, you little shit!”
“Daddy, you said a bad word!” Ellis shouts as Rhonan chases my dog around the yard.
“Motherfucker.” Roscoe darts through the playground, making Rhonan lose his balance and almost fall over.
“Be careful!” I call after him.
“Your dog is a menace!” he calls back.
“He’s scared. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. Come here, Roscoe!”
Roscoe comes up to me, nudging his head between my legs, so I squeeze my thighs together, trapping him. “Rhonan, quick!”
Rhonan rushes over, holds Roscoe by his hips, and wipes him clean. “Got it.”
I release my dog and the first thing he does is inspect his backside. Once he’s content with the lack of poop there now, he looks around for Ellis and then heads back in her direction.
“Yay! No more poop on your butt, Roscoe!” Ellis scales the stairs that lead to her playhouse. But the sound of gagging pulls my attention to the side.
“Rhonan?”
“Fuck,” he says after gagging once more. “This shit stinks.”
“Yeah, well… It’s shit.”
Rhonan continues to gag as he walks over to the trash can and tosses the paper towel inside. Another gag. “I need to wash my hands.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
He nearly folds over in half as his dry heaves come quicker. “Fuck. I…I need a minute.”
My laughter escapes me as I head back to the chairs on the deck to wait for him. After a few minutes, he returns and takes the seat beside me.
“How on earth did you handle changing Ellis’s diapers?” It’s the only question that’s been on my mind since I watched this man dry heave from dog poop.
Rhonan pushes a hand through his hair, widening his legs. “Like that.”
My chest bounces with silent laughter. “That must have been entertaining.”
“Let’s just say I was beyond grateful to have Joanne to help. Vomit will also do that to me.”
“Now that, I can see.” Shuddering, I continue, “If I even hear someone throw up, it triggers me.”
Rhonan groans. “Can we please change the subject?” He hands me one of the glasses of wine he brought out earlier. “I really want to know what you think about this wine.”
Hand outstretched, I intercept the wine from him. “Really?”
“Yeah. When you said you liked our cabernet, I knew this would be the next wine I’d have you taste.” Lifting his glass to his nose, he inhales deeply, so I do the same. “Did you know that you’re supposed to smell your wine before you drink it?”
“Yes. I’ve done lots of wine tastings.”
“Good. Now swirl.”
I can’t deny that his commands about how to drink my wine are making me remember his commands in my bed the other day.
I follow his lead.
“Good girl. Now sip.”
