Page 17 of Chasing Lyric
“Tell me about Rip. Is he good to Doughnut?”
“You’ve seen the belly on that goat, right? Doughnut wants for nothing. Rip and his friends…” He drifts off for a moment. “They all take real good care of him. They take good care of each other. After everything Rip has been through, it’s nice he’s found a place to settle into. I want that one day.”
The adoration in his eyes is clear, but I can’t help making light of this moment. “What? To settle down with Rip?”
He rolls his eyes. “Hardy-har-har… no, to settle down.”
“How did Rip end up with Doughnut?” I ask.
Chase tilts his head. “Actually, Doughnut isn’t technically Rip’s. He is just his caretaker, I suppose. But out of all the people where we’re going, I think Rip loves Doughnut the most. They’re kind of like kindred spirits.”
“So, because I get along so well with Doughnut, and he brought us together, does that make us kindred spirits?” I quip.
“If you’re lucky.”
I snort out a laugh. “IfI’mlucky? Cocky much there, Hallmark?”
He raises his brow. “Hallmark?”
“Yeah, it’s your nickname.”
He purses his lips. “I can live with that, Starlight.”
I don’t reply. I simply change the subject by asking more about Rip. “So, how do you know them?”
He shifts uncomfortably. “Rip and I go back a few years. We were roommates for a while in LA.”
I nod matter-of-factly. “Oh, that’s nice. Then he met his friends?”
“That’s a long story, which started before he met me. Where we’re going, Lyri, it’s not like a typical farm that houses goats. These guys are a little tougher and rougher around the edges.”
Shrugging, I smile. “Can’t be all bad, Doughnut looks well taken care of, and if they look after animals, they must be decent human beings.”
He grins. “Yeah… ninety-nine percent of the time. That other one percent, though…” He leaves it hanging in the air.
I furrow my brows, not understanding what he means, but I continue to drive, still not knowing our final destination.
The drive from Laguna Beach to the San Fernando Valley becomes a rolling storybook of detours, laughter, and carefully chosen pauses—each stop another thread tying us tighter together.
I pull into the Farmer’s Market, making the excuse that Doughnut needs travel snacks just like we do. But in all honesty, I’m just dragging this trip out as long as possible.
We leave the Laguna Farmer’s Market with a bag of snacks in the backseat and Doughnut munching on a sprig of mint like it’s gourmet. I toss Chase a Red Vine while I pop a piece of jerky in my mouth, and we fall into the age-old candy vs. meat debate—sweet vs. savory.
“You know this is a metaphor for us, right now?” he says.
Snorting out a laugh, I chomp on my sugary treat, waggling my brows at him. “You mean, how I’m the jerky because I’m tougher than you?”
He licks sugar off his lips and says, deadpan, “Sure, if you want to think that.”
I swat him with the Red Vine, and he chuckles in his seat as I continue driving.
“You are aware this is bribery, right?” Chase says, his tone all dry sarcasm as I push a carrot through the sliding glass so Doughnut can crunch away. “You’re not rescuing him. You’re buying his loyalty.”
“Loyalty matters,” I retort, snatching a Red Vine for myself and shoving it between my teeth like I’ve got something to prove. “Besides, he loves me. Don’t you, baby?”
Crunch, crunch, crunch.
Doughnut’s ears flick in satisfied delight.
