Finally, Brooke takes the dog, cooing softly at the furball as he happily flails around in her hold. After a few seconds, she softly asks, “Who’s Mariah?”
There’s something strange in her voice I can’t quite identify. But in all fairness, this whole interaction has been strange—from finding her in my mom’s gift wrapping room, to the tears she’s still holding back, to the rings missing from her finger—so I don’t spend too much time trying to figure out what’s off about it. “Titus’s fiancée.”
Brooke’s smile is soft. “I heard about that. I’m happy for him.”
Me too. Most of the time. “And he’s gonna be a dad of twins.” I know I have no room to brag about the new addition to our family—I sure as hell didn’t have shit to do with it—but my chest swells anyway. “That’s why I bought two dogs. One for each kid.”
Brooke angles a brow at me, the line of her lips barelytwitching. “You bought puppies for babies who aren’t even born yet?”
“Titus would only take one. And don’t be judgmental.” I act affronted. “I’m going to be the favorite uncle, and it’s better if everyone figures that out now.”
Brooke lifts her brows. “I don’t know.” She rolls her eyes away from me. “I bet Tucker can build one heck of a playhouse.”
I snort. Fucking Tucker. It would be just like him to swoop in and build a two-story playhouse with running water and electricity.
Probably a damn elevator too.
“They’ll be able to play with a dog before they can run around a playhouse.” I know it’s the truth, but I’m still wondering if there’s something more I can do to secure my position in the uncle hierarchy. “Kids like to swim, right?”
A little more of the sadness bleeds from Brooke’s face, replaced by amusement I’m sure is at my expense. “You’re going to put a pool in Titus’s yard?”
“No.” I adjust the rolled cuff of the sleeve on my flannel. “I’m going to put a pool in at my house so they want to come over all the time.”
That’s actually a brilliant plan. It’ll hit two birds with one stone. The kids will like my house best, and I’ll have someone to keep me company besides a horny miniature poodle.
But all my visions of a future playing with whatever niece/nephew combination I get are pushed aside when Brooke says, “Careful. If you put a pool in, I’ll want to come over all the time too.”
5
Brooke
Why did I just say that?
Why am I still even standing here? I’ve successfully managed to avoid this man the entire two weeks I’ve been back in Willow Bend. Not that it was super difficult considering how much he works. But the last thing I should be doing right now is having a conversation with Tobias Bradshaw.
No.
Theactuallast thing I should be doing is watching—without blinking—as he rolls up the cuff of one sleeve on his flannel shirt, revealing a forearm that looks completely different than I remember it. The forearm in my memory wasn’t necessarily skinny, but it was nothing like the muscular, corded, tanned appendage I’m currently staring at so hard my eyes are starting to burn.
Clearing my throat, I force my gaze somewhere more appropriate for a woman who ran away from the altar less than a month ago. Focusing on the puppy in my arms instead of the well-defined arms he was just in, I manage a genuine smile for the first time since…
I can’t even remember when.
“He’s really cute.” And genuinely is already helping me feel a little better. A little lighter. Like a wiggly-tailed light at the end of a very dark tunnel.
But this isn’t my house, and I’m pretty sure it’s against guest code to bring a dog into someone else’s home. At the very least it’s not a great idea. Especially for someone who has nowhere else to go. It’s possible—though probably not likely—Deidre could get home from her trip to New York and tell me to get out.
If that does happen, I’m screwed, because already I can’t stand the thought of giving the little guy up. He’s such an adorable little nugget. Just looking at him brings me the first happiness I’ve felt in a long time and I don’t have many bright spots in my life right now.
I also don’t have enough money to get a place of my own, and there’s no way I can go to my parents’ house. I’m sure they tried to call me a million times before concluding I no longer have my phone. Hopefully they don’t figure out where I’m staying, or there’s a good chance they’ll show up, thinking they can convince me to go back to Matt.
And that’s never going to happen.
Never.
Unfortunately, outside of knowing I’m not going back to Matt or California, nothing in my life is certain in any capacity. I guess except that I now have a puppy, thanks to the man I should be sending away. Should have sent away the minute he walked in.
But I don’t. I ask him a question instead. "How is Copper?"
