“Good girl.”

Reaching for the sock with the blade, he did that over and over again as Tricksie continually fetched the makeshift puck for him. When Jensen came into the room, Vaughn saw him out of the corner of his eye as he held hold his phone out while he shot the puck toward the wall, Tricksie bringing it back for him. “Have you talked to Wren?”

Still watching the puck, Vaughn nodded. “Yeah, she’ll be here around six to get baby girl.”

“Okay, but did you talk to her?”

“She made me do therapy this morning, which consisted of me asking her to marry me and driving her crazy. We didn’t talk about anything.”

“You should stop that.”

Vaughn scoffed, looking over at his friend who was standing with his arms over his chest. “You gonna beat me up if I don’t?”

“Yes.”

Vaughn laughed. “I needed that. Thanks.”

“Really. Stop, I don’t like it.”

Leaning on his stick, he looked over at Jensen and held his gaze. “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, why am I supposed to talk to the girl I’m not allowed to ask to marry me any longer?”

“According to Elaina, she has a stomach bug.”

Vaughn only blinked at the mention of Wren and Wells’s mom. “Okay?”

“Okay. Then we should board Tricksie and maybe go over and bring her soup? Check in on her? Fuck, I don’t know, Vaughn. We are her family here, and we do nothing for her.”

“Because she won’t let us, Jenny. Shit, I’ll call her.” Rolling his eyes, he pulled out his phone as Jensen yelled, “No, don’t!”

Confused, Vaughn looked over at him. “What the hell do you want me to do?”

“Don’t tell her I said anything. Or that I called Elaina.”

“Anything else, Jennifer?”

Shooting him a deadpan look, he bit out, “No, asshole.”

“Jesus,” he muttered as he dialed Wren’s number.

She answered on the fifth ring. “What?”

“You sound like death.”

“I feel like it. What do you want? I don’t have to be there till six.”

“This is true, but I was calling to make sure we were good. But maybe I should board her?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Do you need soup?”

“Fuck you.”

“Do you need me to come fluff your pillow?”

“Fuck you once more.”

“How about a little back rub?”

“Good-bye, Vaughn, I’ll see you at six.”

The line went dead. Looking over at Jensen, he shrugged. “She’s fine.”

“She’s sick.”

“Wren doesn’t get sick, and if she did, no one would know because she doesn’t let anyone do anything that involves her. I don’t even think Wells knows her middle name.”

Jensen made a face. “They’re siblings.”

“Exactly.”

“You’re an idiot, and I think we should find a place to board Tricksie.”

“You can, and then you can call Wren and tell her you did.”

“No, it will piss her off.”

“You’re right, and I’m not doing it. Plus, Tricksie doesn’t want to go anywhere but to Auntie Wrenny’s. Huh, baby girl?” When she barked happily, Vaughn looked back to Jensen. “See?”

“She. Is. A. Dog.”

Bark, bark!

“She’s a person stuck in a dog body, thank you very much.”

Rolling his eyes, Jensen went toward the kitchen as Tricksie followed him, trotting excitedly, probably thinking he’d give her a treat. He was going to make her obese with how many treats he gave her, but Vaughn didn’t care. She’d lived in a little cage with nothing. If she wanted a treat, hell, she could have one. As he lined up to shoot, he heard the crinkle of the treat bag before Tricksie barked. He shook his head. Jensen was wrapped around Tricksie’s paw.

Hell, they both were.

“Good girl. You haven’t eaten any more of my shoes, so here’s another one.”

Tricksie let out another cheerful bark just as the doorbell rang. Looking toward the door, Vaughn glanced at Jensen as he pointed to the door. “Are you expecting someone?”

“I know you, the dog, and Wren, and she’s not coming until six. So, no.” Shrugging, Jensen went to the door and opened it. “Shea Fucking Adler! How you doing, buddy?”

“Monroe! How are you?”

As they shook hands and Tricksie went nuts barking, Vaughn went to the door to greet his one-time captain and long-time friend. They had known each other since the minors, and Shea was an all-around great guy. Vaughn would basically do anything for him. For example, help coach a bunch of little girls. That was fun, but still, not an easy feat. Vaughn shook his hand, and they hugged it out as Shea bent down to greet Tricksie.

“Man, she is cute. Your pictures don’t do her justice.”

“Right? She is adorable, I know.”

“Cocky even about his dog,” Shea said, shaking his head before standing up and smacking his hands together. “Get your shoes. I need some help.”

“Huh? What are you doing?”

“I need help with a couch.”

“A couch?” Vaughn asked, sliding his feet into his tennis shoes as Jensen did the same.

“Yeah,” Shea said as they both followed him out. “Brie Soledad was telling Elli she wasn’t sure how she was going to get her couch up into her apartment because it won’t fit in the elevator, and I said I’d come help. I thought it wouldn’t be a problem, the doorman can help or something. But apparently, he’s on restriction from lifting shit, so that brings you two into this. Plus, this couch isn’t cheap, and it’s heavy.”

Hearing Brie’s name, Vaughn stopped, glaring. But Jensen pulled him along, shaking his head to keep him from saying anything. Which was probably the right call. Shea didn’t need to hear his drama, and also, there was the possibility of dropping the couch on her.

He didn’t mean that.

Okay, he did, but he didn’t want to kill her. Maybe just break her toe.

No one needs all their toes.

Well, she would if she wore those naughty red peep toe boots she had…