The Same Place (The Lamb and the Lion #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,44
working on that—but licking Tean in a frenzy and checking him with his shoulder whenever Tean looked like he might try to do something negligent and forgetful like take a single step away from the dog.
They walked, and as Tean was scooping kibble into Scipio’s bowl, the door rattled. It opened, and Jem stepped inside. He looked better today, his color normal, his blue-gray eyes brightening when they landed on Tean.
“You really should lock your door.”
“We’re tough,” Tean said, stroking Scipio’s flank. Scipio took the gesture as an invitation to slam his butt into Tean’s knees, still chomping kibble the whole time. “We’ve made it this long.”
“Especially now that you’re on Prowler,” Jem said.
Tean pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes.
“One of your crazy one-night stands could walk right in.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I told you: he’s crazy.”
“I don’t have one-night stands,” Tean said, dropping his hands. “And even if I did, I’m sure none of my one-night stands would want a second round.”
Jem’s face contracted as he leaned against the door, folding his arms. “I’m hurt.”
“Ok.”
“No, really. As your first—”
“You were not my first,” Tean said, his face heating.
“As your first good sex, I mean,” Jem said with a smirk, “I’m really offended that you think I’ve taught you nothing.”
“Goodbye, Jem. Go tease someone else tonight.”
“Nah,” Jem said, the smirk softening into a smile. “Nobody else is nearly as fun.”
“Want to earn some more money?”
“Why? Are you paying?” Jem’s eyebrows went up. “Sex lessons? Yes. Definitely. Let me check my schedule. I offer a three-week intensive course—”
“I will buy you Rancherito’s if you will be quiet for the entire car ride.”
Jem cocked his head. “If you’d said McDonald’s . . .”
Tean grabbed his keys. Scipio was just finishing dinner—licking the bowl now, just in case any kibbley goodness had escaped him—and so Tean got the harness and helped the Lab into it. He held out the leash to Jem.
“Um, changed my mind,” Jem said. “I don’t need money that bad, and besides, Scipio and I kind of have our own arrangement when it comes to walks.”
“I believe you called it a gentleman’s agreement.”
“That’s right.”
“And it consists of you letting him out of the apartment and then chasing after him and shouting his name until he comes back.”
“Well, when you say it like that—”
“Leash, Jem.”
Jem groaned and took the leash.
They went downstairs, and all three of them piled into the Ford’s cab. Scipio sat on the narrow bench at the back, which was the perfect spot for him to lick Jem’s neck, the side of his face, and his hair.
“Good doggie,” Jem kept saying as Tean eased the truck out into the street. Jem patted the air, not quite willing to touch Scipio. “Ok, but don’t eat my hair. Good boy. Good boy. Bleh. Pfeh. Tean, his tongue got in my mouth.”
“That’s another advantage to being quiet,” Tean said. “You won’t get a dog’s tongue in your mouth.”
“Ok, but can you—you know, just—Scipio, sleep. Sleep, boy! Sleep! Why haven’t you taught him any commands?”
Reaching back, Tean found the Lab’s head and pushed. “Leave him alone.”
Scipio gave Tean a few desultory licks and then settled down onto the bench.
Jem flipped the visor and checked himself in the mirror.
Flicking a glance over, Tean said, “Your hair is fine. It’s still got that line in it.”
“It’s a part. It’s called a part. And you are absolutely the last person I’d trust to tell me if it looks all right.”
Tean had to hear all about hair—specifically, Jem’s hair, and how the dog had ruined it—as they drove south. They stopped at Rancherito’s long enough for Tean to order each of them a bacon breakfast burrito, and then they continued south. They took I-15 to Sandy, a suburb at the far end of the Salt Lake Valley, and then they headed east on 10600 South toward the mountains. At that point, Tean activated the maps app, and it navigated them past a retirement community—Desert Sunset, which sounded more like a Western with a lot of sun-bleached bones—and past a Mormon church, and past another Mormon church, and past a Jamba Juice. When they passed an Arctic Circle, Jem made an appreciative noise.
“You just ate,” Tean said.
“They have really good ice cream.”
“Oh my gosh.”
“And it was one burrito, Tean. Not all of us live on air and, if we’re really indulging, a crisp frond from a fern, lightly seasoned with tap water.”
Tean turned on the next street, which was residential.