Bent Out of Shape by Bebe Balocca Read Free Book Online

sticky fingers.
    * * * *
    “Come on, girls! Breakfast time!” Carmen opened the door to the henhouse and scattered scratch feed over the ground. Agatha, the dove-grey Silkie, and Bella, the black-and-white speckled Andalusian, trotted over and began pecking away. Scarlett and Melanie, the fluffy, fancy Faverolles, stuck close together and approached cautiously. The other birds sometimes bullied them. Carmen thought they must be jealous since Scarlett and Melanie were by far the prettiest chickens in the flock.
    Gretel, the robust black Jersey Giant, sidled up next to Carmen. Gretel was as friendly as she was hefty. Suellen, the orange New Hampshire Red, worked her way in between Agatha and Bella. Spare Tire, the Bantam rooster, hopped down from his favourite black rubber perch and strutted around his girls. Carmen’s mellow golden Labrador, Dax, exited his doghouse and sat by Carmen’s feet with a proprietary air. He and Spare Tire had an uneasy truce. Both felt it was their job to protect the girls—the chickens and Carmen—and Carmen had made it clear that peace between her boys was the only option. Dax locked eyes with Spare Tire and huffed, then trotted back to his doghouse to observe the scene from the comfort of his cedar chip bed.
    Rewind it all five years and Carmen would never have imagined that she’d be living here in this old cabin next to the woods, with six chickens, a rooster, and a big yellow dog as her foster children. Not to mention working at an organic vegetable co-op. Oh, and belly dancing . I’m a regular hippie , she chuckled to herself. City-boy Ian would be totally appalled.
    How things change, Carmen thought, scattering another handful of grain for the flock of chickens. Five short years ago she’d been on the career fast track in Chicago. She and Ian had both been corporate lawyers living in Lincoln Park. Ian was handsome, glamorous and driven, so being his girlfriend had been an ego-enhancing thrill ride. Carmen had loved going out on Ian’s arm and knowing that all eyes had been on the lean, elegant, fashionable man beside her. Their weekdays—and often weekends, too—had been busy and challenging with legal work, but free time had been nothing but sweet. Fabulous restaurants, the best wine, erudite friends, and trendy parties—Carmen had known she had it made. When Ian had taken her to Fishbone Alley on their three-year anniversary, Carmen had hardly been able to contain her excitement. She had just known he had been going to propose, and it was just like Ian to pop the question in their favourite restaurant.
    That night, Ian had shown her just how little she knew. “God, I never saw it coming,” Carmen muttered, watching Agatha and Bella take a break from pecking the ground to sip from their water dish.
    Ian had waited until after dessert before dropping his bomb.
    “I’m glad we had a last special evening together, Carmen, because I wanted us to share a final night together.”
    Those calm, cool words of his had sucked the blood right out of her face. “Final?” she’d asked, baffled.
    “I’d like you to meet someone,” Ian had said. He’d beckoned over her shoulder. Carmen had turned and had seen the head chef of Fishbone Alley walking to their table. Chef Morgan Greenway had worked his way across the crowded dining room, smiling broadly at Ian and greeting customers, then had given Carmen a brief nod.
    The stocky chef with the face of a seasoned boxer had marched right up to Ian and Carmen’s table then he’d taken Ian’s hand in his.
    Carmen’s head had spun. “Are you kidding me, Ian? After three years of being a couple, you’re telling me that you’re into men? Seriously?” She’d scrunched her nose, trying to make sense of what had been before her. “You’re into chefs?”
    Ian had cleared his throat. “Look, Carmen, I know it’s not fair to you. It’s just something I discovered about myself. Well, with Morgan’s help.” He’d locked eyes with the