Janice Johnson - More Than Neighbors

“Really?”

Gabe nodded toward the staircase. “Why don’t you go on and take Watson up? I’ll go say hello to your mom.”

“Okay.” The two raced up the stairs, sounding, as Gabe’s mother would have said, like a herd of elephants.

He pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen then stopped, hit with sensory overload. The manicotti smelled amazing, and Ciara was bent over, removing garlic bread from the oven. The sight of her in tight jeans and a frilly lemon-yellow apron made his mouth water in a different way. She either heard the door or his stomach growling again, because she swung around quickly, her eyes startled.

“Oh! I heard your pickup, but I thought maybe Mark had dragged you upstairs to see his room.”

Gabe ambled forward, hoping he looked unthreatening, although he wasn’t sure why it mattered. It might be best if she did find him intimidating. “No, he’s currently dragging Watson upstairs to lock him in solitary confinement.”

Ciara made a face. “I swear that dog’s last family must have let him help himself to food right off their plates. I refuse to gobble down my meals, ready at every moment to defend my food.”

Gabe found himself smiling at the picture. “Might be good for your reflexes.”

“More likely it would cause indigestion.” She tilted her head. “Was he coming right back down? Dinner is ready to go on the table.”

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