An hour later, Ridge, Jayne, and Mister ate their GringoMan on the north balcony, wondering at the lights along the coast. It was a beautiful night. Reflections from the beach cities stretched over the ocean like beams of sparkling light. As Ridge pondered them, his eyes drifted to the hummingbird feeder at the corner of the balcony. He rarely saw the hummingbirds at night, yet there they were.
“Looks like our friends are back.” Ridge stood and slowly approached the corner of the balcony so he could see the feeder better. “With the ninja attack last Sunday, I thought they’d move out for good.”
“Not with that nest she built.”
Ridge peered at the tiny tight-knit round nest nestled in the geranium pot. “How the heck do they build such a perfect structure? The outside diameter is little more than half a toothpick in length.”
Jayne, Ms. Hummingbird-Expert, got up to stand by his side. “They’re Anna’s hummingbirds.”
Ridge blinked and looked down at her. “Whose?”
“No. That’s the name of their species. Anyway, the female builds the nest. She uses fuzz, then threads it with spider silk stolen from webs. Finally, she reinforces the outside with seeds and bits of moss.”
“Amazing. Does this mean babies are on the way?”
Jayne smiled. ‘Soon, I think. Usually, two eggs per clutch.”
“Clutch?”
“Litter to you, Pistol, and Mister.”
“Got it. And now, with babies on the way, we definitely need to keep this place safer.”
“Which reminds me,” said Jayne, “I forgot to tell you that I arranged for that security alarm system we’ve been talking about since moving here. The installer should arrive in the morning. Alarms on all windows, both sliding glass doors, and the front entrance. Also, two ‘panic buttons,’ one in the front room and one in our bedroom. If we push either one, Redondo P.D. will dispatch a squad car. I’ve decided not to shoot people in the future. I’m sticking with my day job.”
He pulled her into his arms and tucked her head beneath his chin. “Shooting people is no fun. Been there, done that. I don’t want you to ever be in that position again.” He kissed the top of her head. “Remember those bolts I bought at 24-Hour Depot for the sliding glass doors? I’m going to install them before I go to bed.”
Jayne groaned and looked up at him. “I love you dearly, but every time you start a home project, it goes south fast. I was hoping to get some sleep tonight. It’s already nearly eleven.”
Not to be discouraged, Ridge said, “You will. In security. Not to worry. I’ll handle this.”
“That’s what you said last time, and we ended up calling a plumber on a Sunday morning.”
“This is different. Promise. You relax and I’ll take care of everything.”
At two in the morning, Jayne opened the bedroom door and walked into the living room to see Ridge on his knees in front of the glass door. “How’s it going?”
“There’s something wrong with these templates. It’s impossible to line up the holes at the center, so I went back to 24-Hour Depot for larger bolt systems. I re-drilled the holes, but the damn things still won’t line up—on either set of doors.
“Let me look.”
“No, no, no. I’ve got it.”
“Eric, let me look.”
Ridge sighed. “OK already. Be my guest, but—”
Jayne shot him a look, and Ridge stood and went to pour himself a double shot of Anejo Tequila, his favorite. Jayne was right, although he was loathe to admit it. He was shit at home improvement projects. He watched for a few moments as his beautiful, extraordinarily competent, good-at-everything wife studied the problem. Then he took another sip of his drink and headed into the bedroom, figuring he’d check on Mister and kick back until Jayne figured out that the Depot Bolt System template was indeed deeply flawed.
CHAPTER 30
“Good morning, sleepyhead. It’s 7:30.”
Jayne watched as Ridge blinked his way to consciousness and pushed himself up on the pillow. He’d ended up falling asleep on the covers with his clothes on, empty tequila glass in his hand. Jayne had set the glass on the bedside table and slipped in under the covers on her side of the bed. She didn’t think Ridge had moved once all night.
She held out a cup. “Have some coffee.”
“Thanks.” His voice was like gravel. “Must have fallen asleep.”
Jayne laughed. “Ya think?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take the ‘Bolt Systems’ back to the Depot this morning. And give ’em hell.”
She sat on the bed beside him and patted his leg. “No need. The bolts are in and working just fine.”
He groaned and wiped a hand down his face. “How long did it take you?”
“About twenty minutes per door.”
He let his head fall back on the pillow and shook it in resignation. “How about I make it up to you by fixing my world-famous pancakes?”
Jayne laughed and bent to give him a kiss. “A perfect trade.”
Ridge dragged himself into the kitchen and poured a second cup of coffee. Slugging down half of it in one gulp, he pulled out the mixing bowl and utensils and prepared to start his pancake ritual. Then his cellphone vibrated and the theme from The Good, The Bad and The Ugly filled the kitchen. Terry.
