“She probably did. Those book club women are relentless.” He almost smiles. “Jo’s been trying to get me to ‘open up about my feelings’ for months. I told her I’d rather run into a burning building.”
“Sounds about right.”
Rex shifts position, resettling with his chin on his paws. His eyes, however, are tracking something. I follow his gaze to a family at the next table—two kids, parents distracted, and a basket of hush puppies sitting dangerously close to the edge.
“Don’t even think about it,” Dean says without looking.
Rex’s ears flatten slightly. Innocent. Wounded, even.
“He’s been weird all week,” Dean continues. “Jo’s been feeding him scraps when she thinks I’m not looking. Now he thinks every meal is a buffet.”
“Jo’s spoiling your highly trained fire dog?”
“Jo’s spoiling everything in a five-mile radius. It’s her love language.” He glances at Rex, who has resumed his perfect statue impression. “He knows better. He just thinks he can get away with it.”
Our food arrives. The fish tacos are perfect—crispy, fresh, exactly the right amount of lime. I’m halfway through the first one when I notice Rex has moved.
Not much. Just a few inches. His nose is now approximately six inches closer to my plate.
“Rex,” Deansays.
Rex doesn’t move. Doesn’t even blink. But somehow he’s radiating pure innocence.
“He’s not going to—” I start.
“Just watch your fries.”
I look down. My fries are fine. Rex is still frozen in place like a furry statue.
We eat. We talk—or rather, Dean grunts and I fill in the blanks. He asks about the music without asking about the music. I ask about the wedding without asking about Jo. It’s the Beckett brother way: communicate everything through subtext and long silences.
“You seem different,” Dean says eventually.
“Different how?”
“Less...” He waves a hand vaguely. “Wound up. Whatever Scott said must’ve worked.”
“He told me to stop avoiding my problems.”
“Revolutionary advice.”
“I thought so.”
Dean snorts. It’s almost a laugh. For him, that’s basically hysterical.
I reach for another taco—and freeze.
My plate is missing two fries.
I look at Rex. Rex looks at the ocean, the picture of complete disinterest. His tongue swipes across his muzzle so fast I almost miss it.
“Did he just?—”
“Yep.”
“But I was watching him!”
“He’s fast.” Dean sounds almost proud. “Caught a squirrel once. Thing never saw him coming.”
