Page 6 of Second Chance for the Grump

The minutes ticked by slowly as I waited for his return. A smarter woman would have thought of my plan for how to handle Rowan once he came back, but I didn’t have the active brain space for that at the time. His expression as he asked if Charlie was our child was the only thought zooming through my mind at light speed. Is that why he came here so quickly?

With a bang, the front door closed behind Rowan, and I tensed as he walked toward me with pinched eyebrows.

“It’s clear,” he said when he stopped beside me. “Let’s get you inside to safety, and I’ll call someone about the egg on the siding.”

Without thinking about it, I followed him inside. “You don’t know anyone here. I’ll have to call someone about the siding.”

But who? Anyone I called would definitely tell my dad, and he could not hear about this. He’d have a breakdown if he thought I was in danger somehow.

“Babe, I know someone everywhere.” Rowan winked at me. He winked! “Let me handle it.” This was not a time for winking, so why did it make my stomach clench in a good way?

I contemplated refusing. However, I didn’t have a better answer to the problem, so I gave in. “Fine, but tell them to be careful of the flowers. My grandma planted them.”

Rowan glanced up at me and then returned to typing on his phone. “Got it.”

We were both in my living room, and I was perfectly fine staying like that forever because I knew what came next.

And I would not like it.

“So,” Rowan said, running a hand through his short brown hair as he turned to me. “About Charlie.”

“Ugh.” I plopped down on the flower-patterned couch I scored from the thrift store right after moving in—it matched the walls perfectly—and stressed.

Rowan glowered in front of me, like a big, hearty SEAL, taking up all the space in the room. “It’s not going to get any easier the longer you wait.”

I narrowed my eyebrows at him. He’d been bossy when I met him two years ago, but this seemed worse. Back then, I liked it. Now I found it frustrating. And maybe just a little hot.

“Charlie is not a child. If my child had been kidnaped—regardless of the father,” I said and stared at him with even narrower eyes, “I would have called the police. The FBI. Someone.”

Rowan’s face softened as he stood with his hands on his hips. “You’re right. I’m sorry. The phone call rattled me, and I wasn’t sure what to think.”

“It’s fine,” I said with a gentle shake of my head. I always gave in too easily. “Once you find out who Charlie is, you might be even madder.”

He released a deep breath. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

There was no good way to tell him. No gentle way to let him down, so I just spit it out.

“Charlie is the dog I got to help me get over you leaving and losing my mom.”

Rowan froze. His eyes blinked only twice as he stared at me and processed my words. “Charlie is a dog?”

I nodded. “I adopted him about two weeks after you returned to Alaska and never called me.”

Now he narrowed his eyes at me. “You were supposed to call me. What kind of dog?”

“A black standard poodle.” I grabbed a pillow from the couch and squeezed it. “When you left, you said I’d be seeing you soon. That means you were supposed to call.”

Rowan pursed his lips. “A poodle? That’s not a manly dog. And I said that because you were supposed to call me and beg me to come back.”

“A standard poodle is very manly. You’re thinking of the little ones.” I tossed the pillow at him, and he caught it. My heart jumped at the little measure. I’d ask myself why later. I didn’t have time to analyze my screwed-up emotions at the moment. “I didn’t beg you to come back because you were supposed to show up at my house later that night after being unable to get on the plane.”

“What happened to the manly poodle dog Charlie?” he asked, holding on to the pillow.

I took a deep breath. He really would not like this part. “A guy I broke up with didn’t take the news well and stole him. He’s also probably responsible for the egg violence outside my house. Possibly.”

Rowen’s eyes flashed—the only clue my words affected him. “You dated after me? How long was this asshole hanging out with my dog?”

“Charlie is my dog.” I grabbed another pillow just in case I needed to launch it at him. Did he piss me off this much the first time he’d been here? “And he’s the first guy I’ve dared since you left. We didn’t even make it six months. I’m not sure why he’s taking it this hard.”