Chapter 8Jordan hummed as he stirred the ground beef he was browning in a large frying pan. A recipe for a simple goulash he’d printed off the Internet lay on the counter. He studied it.
“This should be easy enough for me to pull off,” he told Henrietta, who was sitting near him, her most fetching, begging expression on her grey muzzle.
“Oh no, you don’t. I’m not as easy to trick as Spenser.”
The little dog whined.
Jordan sighed and shook his head. He separated a small piece of hamburger and took it out of the frying pan with a fork. He blew on it then gave it to Henrietta. She scarfed it down in a gulp.
“Don’t tell Spense,” Jordan admonished her.
Just then he heard the door to the apartment open. With a yip, Henrietta ran out of the kitchen. Jordan smiled. His man was home. He began
