Page 18 of Guarding My Love

“I should have done that,” Todd said. “I always forget.”

Todd had been with him for a few years and was a good employee, but he often had to be reminded of the simple things. “Check the fan in this and see what might be going on. I’d like to not have to worry about something going down on us and dealing with all those calls.”

Talk about something that would set him off. Maybe playing with the puppy had softened him. He’d have to give it a try again to see if it was Marco or seeing Charlotte.

He went back to his office and got to work when his phone went off with an alert from his security cameras.

He didn’t have any packages coming to his house today, so he pulled it up and saw Charlotte on his front porch leaving a little bag and then running off quickly with Marco.

6

A STRANGER

“Don’t eat the weeds, Marco,” Charlotte said on Saturday while she was on her hands and knees pulling what she hoped was a weed and not some plant that was supposed to pop up this time of year.

Marco was on his leash and tied to the deck so he couldn’t get away but had a lot of lead to move around while she tried to tackle the outside. She’d hoped it’d be easier than what she was doing inside.

Marco barked at her, started to jump around, then knocked over his bowl of water.

She pushed herself up, moved to the hose and filled it back up. It wasn’t that hot out, but she wasn’t sure how hot dogs might get. The way her life was going lately, she’d end up at the vet for not knowing the signs of heat stroke.

When she turned to go back to the flower bed, she heard a noise and looked up to see a tractor coming up the property from Foster’s house.

She hadn’t seen or heard from him since Marco almost pooped himself in the driveway with a near-death experience.

Looked like Foster was towing something behind the tractor and not cutting the lawn. When he turned, she saw it was rocks. He wasn’t close enough for her to say hi, just more like she could see him.

He veered off to the side by his driveway and started to unload them. She’d noticed when she walked down his driveway the other day to leave him the painter’s tape in a gift bag with a thank you note that there were large rocks on just one side of the driveway. Must be he was putting them on the other side now.

“Calm down, Marco.” Her dog wanted a better look at her neighbor too.

Oh, the cookies.

Her second batch had been a massive fail too, but by the last sheet tray and moving the heights of the racks, she got it figured out.

She ran inside, got the plate she put together, unhooked Marco from the long lead and put him on his leash. Then the two of them walked down the driveway.

“Afternoon,” she said to him.

“Hi,” he said. “What’s that?”

“Cookies,” she said. “They won’t fit in your mailbox. I was going to put them on your porch since I know you’re home. I didn’t want to do that not knowing in case some animal got them.”

“The only animals around here are the squirrels and Marco,” he said. He was eying the plate while she did her best not to stare at his arms in his fitted T-shirt.

Yummy!

Who the hell knew he had muscles like that under his clothing?

“That’s good to know,” she said. “Do you want to know what kind they are?”

“Sure,” he said.

“Peanut butter chocolate chip.”

“I’m allergic to peanut butter,” he said.

Her smile dropped. What the hell?

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