Page 74 of 10 Rings I Hate About You
Martha carried an overly large tote bag that seemed jam-packed with things not related to yoga.
Gladys was holding a kitten.
My gaze swept over her. I immediately zeroed in on the kitten. Then at Glamma who was nuzzling Coco. Both suddenly finding their animals extremely interesting.
“You’re not supposed to bring your own animals,” I said. “The shelter provides them.”
“Oh pish posh,” Glamma answered. “Coco came from this very shelter. And Gladys got the kitten from Theo on the way in.”
“I absolutely did not give her that kitten,” Theo said from the doorway. “How did you get him, anyway? The new kittens are inan area behind a locked door. You shouldn’t have been able to get in there without a badge.”
Very seriously, Gladys answered, “Maybe the question you should be asking yourself is if I needed to have a badge to get in, how did I do it?”
Theo’s hand went to his waist. Found nothing. He looked down anyway, confirming what he already knew. “What the fuck?” he mumbled under his breath. He crossed to Gladys and gently removed the kitten from her arms. Then he held out his hand. “Badge.”
Gladys withdrew it from her pocket and handed it over. Her glare intensified, and she muttered something low and specific that made Theo briefly go pale before he shook it off and headed back to the front desk.
Then Wyatt walked in.
Then Adam.
Then Logan, Adam’s older brother and our other cousin, still in his full suit.
“I heard you needed help moving things?” Adam asked, surveying the perfectly arranged room with narrowed eyes.
“Surprise,” Grace said, linking her arm through his. “You’re participating.”
Adam blinked like he’d been told something in a language he didn’t speak. “That feels highly unlikely.”
Logan surveyed the mats. “I have workout clothes in my car.”
“Good,” Grace said. “Go get them. And be quick about it.”
I had no idea when Grace had acquired this authority over our cousins, but I chose not to examine it too closely. I had no doubt it was influenced by Glamma.
Within a few minutes, Logan returned with a duffle bag thrown over his shoulder.
Wyatt leaned toward Adam and Logan. “I heard Declan’s coming back to town.”
Logan’s face lit up. “Yeah. He’s doing the launch photos for the Heritage Line. The wandering photographer has agreed to come home long enough to point a camera at something before he leaves again.”
“It’s about time,” Adam grumbled. It had been a few years since their brother Declan had been back to Ruby River.
Logan went off to change as volunteers arrived, bringing carriers, crates, and leashes. Within five minutes, the calm in the temporary yoga studio had become a small and loudly opinionated zoo.
A golden retriever materialized near the water station and knocked over a stack of cups. His enthusiasm seemed to establish the energy in the room. Two medium-sized cats emerged from a crate and began a thorough assessment of the structural integrity of every yoga mat by sitting, sniffing, and stretching out on them. One elderly beagle wandered around off-leash, surveying the room with deep skepticism, sat down in the center of a mat, and refused to move.
And then there was Chaos.
Chaos, freed from his leash the moment a volunteer offered to hold it, spent approximately eleven seconds sniffing the floor before filing the yoga blocks under:potentially edible, worth testing. Not edible, as it turned out, but that was clearly not the point. He headbutted one across the room, watched it fly, and looked enormously pleased with himself as he bleated in triumph.
“Chaos—” I started.
He was already gone.
Not physically gone. Worse. He now had goals to accomplish if I was reading his little hops forward correctly.
The chairs lined up against the wall had apparently offended him on a supremely deep level, because he approached the nearest one with the intensity of a health inspector who’dreceived an anonymous tip. He sniffed it. He circled it. Made a decision.
