But now he was even luckier, because, as he held her, time stood still. Either that, or it ticked on, and neither of them wanted to move. She wasn’t pulling back, and he wasn’t letting go. In fact, he was beginning to doubt if he could let her go at all.
Victor whimpered, and Lee squeezed his eyes shut because he knew she’d end it. And in the next instant, her arms loosened around him.
“No.” His protest was just a whisper, but he pulled her tighter against him, and, heaven help them, she did the same.
But when a sob shook her tiny body, and her tears traced down his neck, Lee lost control. His lips found the side of her neck, just below her ear. He kissed her there. And then he kissed her jawline, tasting her tears and making them a part of him. He kissed the edge of her sweet mouth, wanting to take it all, but giving her the choice.
And for a moment, she chose him. Turning in to meet his lips with hers, she let him taste her longing. Longing, and the sweetest, softest flesh he’d ever known. His tongue felt the shocking tip of hers just before she pulled away.
“No.” She panted, pressing her palms against his chest. And then more firmly, “No.”
He stepped back to meet her eyes, but Wren, beautiful Wren, slipped down from the seat of his Jeep and took off for the house at a run.
Lee let her go. He hated watching her leave him, but he had no right to chase her. Victor cried again and batted at the door of his crate with his paw.
“Yeah, buddy,” Lee said on a sigh. “I know just how you feel.”
LEE THANKED GODthat he’d told Marcelle not to meet him at the house Thursday night. He knew he’d pay for it later, but he told her he had some meetings after work, and he might be late. He didn’t tell her that the meetings were with a litter of puppies.
But he was in such a state when he got home all he could manage to do was pour himself a gin and tonic — one-handed because he held Victor with the other. He carried his drink and his puppy onto the front porch — a space that, since her visit, belonged entirely to Wren Blanchard — and collapsed onto his cypress swing.
He leaned back and settled the dog on his chest. Victor had whimpered a little on the drive home, but as soon as Lee had taken him out of the crate, he’d calmed down. By the time he took his second long pull of his drink, the puppy was out.
Lee envied the dog’s peace.
By his own definition, he’d cheated on Marcelle. He was a cheater. And if Wren thought he was faithless before, what did she think of him now?
He condemned himself for crossing the line, but kissing Wren… kissing Wren… He couldn’t bring himself to regret it or label it sin. As a moment in time and space separate from everything else in the world, it was more real and wonderful than any moment in his memory.
Kissing Wren was beautiful.
And it would never happen again. Knowing how weak he was, Lee would never put himself in the position to fall, and, even if he did… well, judging by the look on Wren’s face and the way she’d run from him, the chances of her getting within ten feet were pretty slim.
So with a dog on his chest and a drink in his hand, Lee cycled through the same three emotions. Guilt. Wonder. Sadness. One led straight to the next.
LEE HAD FRIDAYoff, which was a godsend, since Victor needed to be walked every two or three hours — even during the night. But the puppy only had one accident in the house, so Lee felt hopeful that housebreaking wouldn’t take too long. Victor had slept on his chest most of the night, and when he wasn’t a soft mound across his front, he curled into a ball at his side. Lee smiled every time he laid a hand on the dog’s warm fluff. It helped him to sleep — even with his endless loop of emotions.
Since Marcelle had to work on Friday, Lee decided to take out his single-man kayak. Victor followed him around the yard and stayed close as he hoisted his Jocassee onto the Jeep to tie it down. Lee outfitted the puppy with the harness and leash he’d gotten from PetSmart when he picked up the dog crate, and he packed water and snacks for both of them.
He drove to the put-in under the Camellia Bridge, and laughed out loud at the sight of the golden, fuzzy-haired pup sitting calmly inside the green kayak as Lee slid the nose into the Vermilion and hopped in.
Victor sniffed the air and angled his head over the side of the hull as they skimmed out onto the river. Lee had looped the dog’s lead through one of the kayak’s bungies just in case, but Victor never tried to leap out.
Turning into the current, Lee started paddling upstream. The river wasn’t too high, but it moved steadily, and he could feel his abs engage as he got to work. He guessed it would take him about an hour to make it up to the bridge at Ambassador Caffrey, and then he’d turn around and take it easy on the way back.
Victor seemed to understand that they wouldn’t be getting out of the kayak anytime soon because the puppy stood up, moved to the space between Lee’s knees, turned around twice, and flopped down, resting his chin on Lee’s left thigh.
“Good boy." Lee smiled down at the little guy. He was already half in love with him and dreading the moment he’d have to go back to the hospital in the morning. But by then, he’d have introduced the puppy to Marcelle, and hopefully she’d agree to look after him during his shift.
Lee didn’t kid himself. Marcelle would be a little pissed at first, but after two minutes with Victor, she’d turn to mush. Lee took a hand off the paddle to give the puppy a gentle scratch behind the ears. Victor was so darn cute. Who could resist him?
Not Wren.
The bittersweet thought came without warning, but he savored it. She’d let him take the pick of the litter, her favorite. And when Lee heard that she’d already named the puppy — after a Joss Whedon character, no less — he knew he didn’t want to call the dog anything else. Now, Lee just hoped that there would come a time when looking at Victor wouldn’t bring Wren to mind — at least not so painfully.
He needed to forget her.
Paddling harder, Lee tried to move his thoughts away from the petite tattoo artist who had managed to get under his skin without needles or ink. He settled his mind on Marcelle instead. Marcelle was good for him.
