Marcus opened his mouth to protest, but Christine lifted a hand. ‘Don’t waste your breath, love. I’ve known you long enough.’
Then she disappeared back into the salon, leaving the faint scent of hairspray and peppermint tea in her wake.
For a second, silence filled the shared space.
Marcus became painfully aware of Rowan standing only a few feet away, sleeves pushed up, forearms damp from washing mugs, expression unreadable as always.
‘She seems protective,’ Rowan said.
Marcus finished chewing before answering. ‘Christine? She likes to pretend she isn’t, but yes. Very. She took me in when I needed somewhere for Ruff to Regal. I think that gives her permanent rights to fuss.’
‘You let her.’
Marcus looked up.
Rowan was watching him carefully.
There it was again. That habit Rowan had of saying very little and somehow scraping directly against something tender.
Marcus gave a small shrug. ‘It’s easier than arguing.’
‘Is it?’
‘With Christine? Absolutely.’ He brushed crumbs from his fingers and reached for the appointment book. ‘Right. Afternoon chaos awaits.’
As if summoned by the word chaos, the bell above the front door tinkled.
Marcus glanced at the clock. ‘That’ll be Daisy.’
‘The one who hates ears being touched?’ asked Rowan.
Marcus looked at him in surprise. ‘You remembered?’
Rowan’s brows lifted faintly. ‘You wrote it in capital letters with three exclamation marks.’
‘That does sound like me.’
They walked back into the parlour together.
A woman in a yellow sundress stood just inside the door, holding the lead of a small cream cockapoo who was doing her level best to press herself behind her owner’s legs. Daisy’s darkeyes flicked from Marcus to Rowan, then to the grooming tables, then to the door behind her, as if calculating the quickest escape route.
‘Hello, Daisy,’ Marcus said brightly, then softened his voice when the dog shrank back. ‘Oh, sweetheart. Not feeling brave today?’
‘She’s been funny all morning,’ Daisy’s owner said. ‘I think she knows where she is.’
‘Clever girl,’ Marcus said.
The woman blinked.
He smiled. ‘Dogs always know more than we think they do. Don’t worry, Mrs Hargreaves. We’ll take it slowly.’
He reached for Daisy’s lead, but paused when he noticed Rowan watching the little dog’s body language.
‘What do you think? Are you seeing something I’m not?’ Marcus asked quietly.
Mrs Hargreaves looked startled, as if she hadn’t expected anyone else to be consulted.
Rowan crouched, not too close, his movement slow and controlled. ‘She’s not aggressive. She’s overwhelmed. She’s looking for somewhere to hide because everything in here is too open for her.’
