““If you’ve got a bag in that SUV, you might as well get it out.” “He’s not staying here,” Lisa countered. “I say he is.” Lisa yanked at the coat from within. “You’re not the only person who lives here, Robin.” “No, but I’m one-third owner of the house.” She motioned Donovan toward his truck. “Consider whatever part of the house he’s in as my third.” “Damn it, Robin! I don’t want him here.” “I do.” “Why?” Robin cocked her head to the side as if considering the question. “Because he’s got that big, mean, don’t-mess-with-me look of a rottweiler on steroids that could be a deterrent to any repercussions from your trip into town today, and because”—she shrugged and a smile touched her lips—“he bothers you in a way I’ve never seen you bothered. It’s interesting.””
