A blast of bup-bup-bups jolts me from my champagne stupor. I figure it’s a summer storm sweeping over Sheep Mountain or maybe it’s Dave’s back-up generator kicking in. Then I remember there is no generator. I reach out for Evo but she’s not there. “Babe?” I call.
“Hush,” goes Evo. She’s standing by the window prying apart the blinds. She’s got on her halter top and cut-offs. “We’ve got guests, Tone.”
I pull on shorts and a tank. “Where’s Sudzy?”
“Under the bed.”
I join Evo at the window. Three motorcycles playing follow the leader circle outside the casita. On comes the porch light. The bikers park beside the goat trough and kill their engines. They’re wearing black helmets and black leather pants. Chickens scramble out the hen house and mill around the men. Dave comes out wearing a white bathrobe. He shuts the door behind him and I hear Cosmo barking inside.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” Dave says.
One of the men clears his throat. “Evenin’.”