Page 21 of Out on a Limb
One side of her nose lifted, curling her lip. “Gross.”
“You eat them. Why can’t they eat you?”
She eyed the bird. “I guess that’s fair.” Collette scooped him up and opened her door. “He still can’t be my pet.” She headed straight for the front of the shop, purse on one arm, rooster in the other.
I stared after her, that damn worm squirming through my brain, digging little holes through everything I thought I knew about Collette Johnson.
Because while she was definitely beautiful, sweet, and kind, there was also evidence stacking up that pointed to her being something else.
Weird as hell.
Chapter Five
Collette
I MIGHT HAVE a chicken as a pet.
It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve ever done, so there’s that.
“I didn’t realize they made chicken leashes.” Andrew held up the bright pink set of straps, working them into some sort of order as I drove to the chicken place.
“It’s for small animals.” I glanced down at the rooster. “Not just chickens.” The girl at the pet shop had been super helpful, but the supplies they had for chickens were pretty limited.
Which meant I still didn’t have any food for the rooster.
But I did have a carrier for him.
And a leash.
And a super squishy squeaky toy he picked up as I sorted through the leash options, then refused to part with.
Andrew picked up the chicken, setting him down onto his lap before trying to wrap the contraption around his little body.
That was when I noticed how little room the man had to work within. “You can scoot that seat back, you know.”
Andrew didn’t look my way as he continued to strap the rooster in. “I didn’t want to mess up your car.”
“There’s a chicken in it. I’m pretty sure anything you do will be minor compared to what Phillip will do.”
Andrew’s gaze slowly came my way, one brow lifting. “His name is Phillip?”
I tried to act nonchalant about it. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Phillip just seems like a weird name for a chicken.”
“He’s not a chicken.” I reached over to stroke along Phillip’s back. “He’s a rooster.”
A cock.
So his name was Phillip. Phillip the Phallus.
“A rooster named Phillip.” Andrew finished locking Phillip into his harness then set him back on the console between us.
“Why can’t I name a rooster Phillip?” My attention snapped up to Andrew.
He was doing that almost-smile thing again.
“Are you laughing at me?”
