Read Online Dates And Other Nuts by Lori Copeland - Free Book Online Page B

would have disapproved of. The rottweiler, looking unperturbed by his agony, licked its chops, cold black eyes observing him implacably. Gabrielle was in the kitchen. No help if the dog decided to go for his jugular vein.
    â€œMind if I wash my hands?”
    â€œThrough the bedroom,” Gabrielle called back. “First door on the right.”
    Gingerly pushing open the bedroom door, he stopped short. Clothes were strung over the bed, draped from doorknobs and the backs of chairs. The tight quarters resembled a large, messy closet. How had Temple lived with this?
    At least the bed was made, but depressions in the thick comforter made it clear that the cats considered it their bed.
    He found the bathroom, more by smell than observation, and flipped on the light. A large inky-black cat, green eyes gleaming like coals, was curled in the sink. The feline did not appear inclined to move.
    â€œJust push Satan out of the sink,” Gabrielle called from the living room. “He thinks it’s his. The porcelain feels good against his tummy, I guess.”
    Craig’s eyes stung and his nose burned from the pungent odor in the room. He deposited the cat on the floor and turned on the water. After rinsing his hands, he picked up a fairly fresh towel and spotted the source of the smell. Three litter boxes sat on the floor of the closet.
    As he left the bedroom, the smell of burning cardboard wafted to him, nearly overriding the stench of the litter boxes. When Craig entered the kitchen, Gabrielle was pouring cat food into five dishes lined up on newspaper in a corner.
    â€œWhat’s burning?”
    â€œOh, dam!”
    Smoke was seeping out around the oven door.
    Grabbing a hot pad, Craig jerked open the oven door, leaning back to evade the rolling cloud of black smoke that billowed out.
    â€œGot an extinguisher?”
    â€œNo!” Her hands fluttered helplessly in the air, stirring the smoke.
    â€œDamn,” he muttered.
    Yanking out the oven rack, he grabbed a damp dishcloth that was draped over a burner and beat out the flaming box.
    â€œOh, geez-Louise, will you look at that,” Gabrielle wailed, peering over his shoulder.
    â€œYou’re supposed to take the ribs out of the box before you heat them,” he told her.
    Her eyebrows shot up as she surveyed the mess. “No kidding?”
    Craig headed for the bathroom again. Ten minutes and I’m out of here. Fifteen tops. And then, Burney, you’re going to pay for this one. Big time.
    Craig quickly washed his hands while Satan eyed him warily from the open closet door.
    As he was drying off, he spotted Gabrielle’s curling iron on the counter, the frayed cord plugged in, the barrel smoldering amid at least thirty bottles of cosmetics that littered the tiny counter.
    â€œDid you know your curling iron’s on?” he called. And obviously has been since early this morning?
    â€œAgain? Where is my brain! I forget to turn it off. Mind unplugging it for me?”
    Fearing electrocution, Craig gingerly reached around the blistering hot barrel and knocked the hot plug out of the socket. The cord knocked over a bottle of perfume. Grabbing at it, he started a landslide of hair spray, styling gel, , deodorant and a bottle of mouthwash that fell in a domino effect, clattering noisily to the floor. A container of aspirin crashed to the floor where its contents spilled across the black and green tiles.
    Damn.
    Satan shot out of the closet like a bullet, smacking into the bathroom wall and ricocheting off it into the door frame, nearly shutting his own tail in the door as he finally shot through it. A harrowing screech from the other side signaled the sideswipe of at least one other feline.
    â€œWhat was that?” Gabrielle called from the kitchen.
    â€œNothing. Be right there.”
    The cockeyed yellow cat sauntered in to investigate the melee and immediately began eating the scattered aspirin.
    â€œStop that!” Craig