Wrong Place, Wrong Time (Pete 'Monty' Montgomery 1)

“I apologize.”

“You’re forgiven. You made up for it.”

“Consider it dessert first. Which reminds me, is dinner burned to a crisp?”

“Nope. It never made it into the oven. I’ll rectify that now, when I take Chomper out. I’ll just make a few minor adjustments to my serving plan. Instead of fine china and candles, we’ll do snack trays and paper, and we’ll have dinner in bed.”

“That sounds wonderful. I’m ravenous.”

“I wonder why.”

Devon’s eyes twinkled. “Guess I’m a teenager, too.”

Another bark, this one more insistent.

“You’re being paged.”

“So I heard.” Blake climbed out of bed, yanking on a pair of sweats and snapping his fingers at Chomper. “I’ll be back soon,” he told Devon.

“I’ll be here.” She snuggled into the bed, feeling boneless and replete, her muscles as weak as if she’d run a marathon. She wondered if she had enough strength left to eat.

Or to do what she’d come here to do.

CHAPTER 19

Devon was half-asleep when, thirty minutes later, Blake strode back into the bedroom, Chomper at his heels. It didn’t take a scholar to figure out why the pup was glued to his master. Blake was carrying two snack trays of food. Chomper was sniffing the air and waiting for the great aromas to translate into great table scraps.

“Wake up,” Blake announced. “Dinner is served.”

“I’ll try.” Devon squirmed into a sitting position, plumping a pillow and propping it behind her. “Okay. I’m fully conscious,” she determined, settling herself against the headboard, the comforter tucked around her.

“Glad to hear it.” He placed a tray across her lap. “By the way, you owe Chomper an apology, too. He was really put out earlier when you fell asleep on the sofa and started dripping wine on him. I took your glass before it hit the floor.”

Soberly, Devon regarded Chomper. “Sorry, boy. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll share.” She gave a bemused shake of her head. “I’ve never fallen asleep on a date before. Tonight I did it twice.”

“Extenuating circumstances. Both times. The first because you’ve never had so many high-stress stimuli exploding in your face all at once. And the second—hey, that I take full responsibility for.”

“Not full responsibility. I had some say in it.”

“Yeah, you did.” Blake tossed aside his sweats and slid back into bed beside her, draping the other tray across his own lap. “Dinner is served.”

Startled admiration flashed across Devon’s face as she regarded the meal. He’d worked really hard, she thought, feeling touched. Dinner was salmon fillets garnished with basil and parsley, all over rice, beside which were dollops of dill sauce, fresh green beans, and a mixed tossed salad.

“This is lovely,” Devon murmured. “A veritable feast. Really.” She glanced up at Blake and smiled. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

Chomper barked, tugging the comforter with his teeth.

“Don’t worry,” Blake assured him. “There’s a little of everything saved for you. After that, you’ll have to settle for your food.”

Another bark, this one in protest.

“Sorry. We can’t go totally people food. Not when we’re trying to impress your doctor with our healthful habits.”

Devon began to laugh. “I’m already impressed. But I have to agree, Chomper. Your food is best. It’ll help you grow strong and healthy.”

Chomper didn’t look convinced. He did, however, dive into the small plate of table scraps Blake leaned over and placed beside the bed, making quick work of it. He then bounded off to the kitchen to his own bowl, hunger winning out over pickiness.