Page 87 of Courting Danger

That big bushy tail of his wagged wildly when they acknowledged him. They’d need to include a brush when they stopped in at the Pet Emporium to pick up the rest of the supplies they needed for the dogs, since floof seemed to fill the air anytime Diesel wagged his tail or shook himself. It was good to see the big dog happy and engaged. When they’d returned from the hospital with Danger, they’d stepped into the house and been hit with a flurry of woofing and the frantic scrabble ofclaws on tile as the dogs had rushed to greet them, nearly bowing them over in the process; they’d been so happy to see that they hadn’t been abandoned.

The hospital scent that had surrounded Danger when they’d returned home had left the dogs skittish and confused, circling and sniffing when he dropped to one knee, trying to pet them again, but as soon as he’d showered, they’d been all over him again.

“Alright, I think we’re all set in here,” Pope said when he finished drying the second pot and returned it to the cabinet.

“I’ve got the food,” Ocean said, removing the platter from the fridge.

“Perfect. I’ll take two glasses, Roan, you grab the other two. Now let’s go enjoy the rest of our day.”

When they reached the den, Pope was pleased to see the television on, even if Danger was still scrolling through the streaming services, looking for something to watch, though how he could see what he was doing with Grunge’s head in the way, the dog moved back into his line of sight anytime Danger tried to peer around him.

“He’s not making it easy, is he?” Ocean said, snickering as he set the platter down and started removing the cling wrap.

“Shit, brownies too,” Danger said when he spotted them. “I thought I smelled chocolate.”

“Not just any brownies either,” Roan said. “These are special.”

“Yeah, I see you guys added sprinkles,” Danger said. “What’s the occasion? And please don’t say it’s in honor of getting a roof dropped on my head. I’m getting enough of that shit from Wreck.”

“Did he ask about the ruby slippers?” Ocean asked, bringing a momentary pause to the room.

Roan’s giggles, no longer hidden, spilled forth, while even Diesel got in on the action, woofing and prancing around his feet while he laughed.

Danger scrubbed a hand over his face, trying and failing to keep from falling suit. In the end, he groaned and gave in, while Pope chuckled and placed a glass on the table beside him.

“No, he did not,” Danger finally replied. “So don’t go putting ideas in his head.”

“Not even about flying monkeys?” Roan asked. “‘Cause they could have really come in handy that day.”

“And exactly how would they have come in handy?” Danger asked while Pope tried not to bust a gut waiting to hear how Roan answered.

“For starters, they could have flown us the fuck out of there when we got stuck,” Roan replied. “Or at the very least, been sent out as carrier pigeons to get help.”

“At that point, why not just train them to do the grocery shopping for us?” Ocean suggested. “Would be cheaper than Door Dash and twice as fast.”

“An army of flying monkeys as personal shoppers,” Roan mused. “Now that would be cool.”

“No, no, no,” Pope said. “The monkeys would just be for transport. Gotta hire the munchkins to do the personal shopping. Those monkeys are likely to eat their weight in produce and leave you with one hell of a bill in the end.”

“Good point,” Roan said. “There wouldn’t be a banana left in the state if we sent them.”

“Or peaches,” Ocean commented. “Speaking of which, we have got to get some for the grill. I’ve got a recipe for pineapple simple syrup with a hint of ginger that fucking rocks when you brush it over the peaches before you grill them. We used to toss a few on the hibachi when we were at the beach and cook them to go with whatever else we were making.”

“Bet we could even make saddlebags for the monkeys, just like we’ve got for our bikes,” Roan suggested.

“And have them stop up at the orchard for a bunch of apples on their way home,” Ocean suggested. “As long as they didn’t encounter any lions, they should be okay.”

“No way, man. Did you see what those trees did when someone tried to pick their fruit?” Roan replied. “Be safer to get the apples from a store.”

“How did this disintegrate into a mountain of Wizard of Oz jokes?” Danger groaned as he picked up a sandwich.

Roan just snickered and shot a look at Ocean, who shrugged.

“Because we’re saving the jellyfish ones for later,” Ocean admitted.

An eyeroll, a long-suffering sigh, then Danger just deflated and sat there pouting as he chewed. That look, the whole tousled, disgruntled, narrow-eyed,I will get you for thistone emanating from Danger, was the absolute last straw. Pope collapsed in his chair, losing his shit completely, tears rolling down his face by the time his sides began to ache.

“None of you are funny,” Danger muttered, “but you’re at least more amusing than Wreck.”