Lee nodded. “Got it." He held out a hand to take the bag from her, but Victor squirmed.
“I’ll help you out to your Jeep,” she offered, pointing toward the gate.
“Hang on.” Lee looked back at Millie, who still watched them from the pen. He crossed the yard and lowered Victor down to the golden retriever, who sniffed and licked her puppy’s face. Lee reached down and stroked Millie’s head. Wren realized that he was giving Victor and Millie a chance to say goodbye. Sudden tears pricked in her eyes, and she tried to blink them away.
She turned and sped toward the gate. If he didn’t already think she was crazy, he certainly would if she started crying now.
“Wait up,” he called behind her.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, but when she looked back, Wren saw Lee clutching Victor to him with one hand and dabbing his eyes against the cuff of his dress shirt with the other.
Holy shit.
In that instant, Wren wished that the walk to the front yard could last forever. Of course, it couldn’t, but they walked side by side until they reached the Jeep.
“I have a crate in the front seat,” Lee said, opening the driver’s side door. “Will you hold him while I get the latch?”
“Love to,” she said, taking the sweet puppy in her arms one last time. He was such a puff-ball of cute. Victor smelled musty and clean at the same time, and she buried her nose in his downy fur. Wren knew she’d miss the little guy.
Lee reached across the seat and opened the dog crate. He turned back toward her.
“I’ll take him from here.”
But Wren wanted another minute with him. With both of them.
“Can I put him in?” she asked.
“Sure.” Lee stepped back and helped her climb into the cab of his Jeep. Memories of their drive from the hospital hit her with the Jeep’s scent. With Lee’s scent, clean and woodsy.
“Time to say goodbye,” she whispered to Victor, kissing him on the ear. She leaned forward. He didn’t seem keen on entering the tan plastic crate. He butted against her to avoid its gaping entrance. “It’s going to be okay, baby. Lee will be good to you.”
She managed, finally, to hoist him inside. When she closed the gridded door, and Victor gave a lone whine, Wren leaned down and stroked his nose through the bars. “You take care of him, too, okay?”
She sat up and placed her hands on the steering wheel to give herself a second. Wren turned and found herself face to face with Lee.
“Can we be friends?” he asked.
The look on his face almost broke her heart. But she couldn’t handle that. No way. The thought of sitting across from him in a cafe or having a simple drink after work seemed impossible. She’d never be able to take her eyes off him. She’d never be able to act like a friend.
“I don’t think that would be very good for me,” she admitted.
Lee’s eyes burned into her, and he nodded. “You’re right.” But then he shook his head. “I mean, I think knowing you in any way would be good for me, but I understand.”
He was going to be the death of her.
“Hug?” she asked with a shrug. As soon as the word left her lips, she was surrounded by him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
LEE HELD ONtight, memorizing the feel of her in his arms. Her small frame tucked against him. The silk of her hair on his cheek. Her perfume of patchouli and vanilla and warmth.
It wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be enough.
When she’d opened the gate to let him in, happiness had trampled him. If he’d ever doubted goodness in the universe, his faith had been restored. Because he’d wanted so badly to see her again, but honorably. He knew where she lived. He knew where she worked. And he knew that if he went to her, he’d be going behind Marcelle’s back. And he didn’t want to be that guy.
But their stars had aligned, somehow, so that she stood before him again. Her anger hadn’t surprised him, really. In a way, he was angry, too. He wanted Wren. There was no denying it. He was angry that he couldn’t have her without hurting Marcelle. And he was angry that, because of him, Wren, who was blameless, had been hurt.
And then he’d found himself singing the Bad Horse theme song, and all anger evaporated. Her laughter made him feel like the luckiest man in the world. While she’d laughed, he’d counted the birds on her arms, wondering how many others flew across her body.
