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“You’ve been a parent for a few hours and you’re already caving.”
“If we put him in the bed, he’ll feel better.”
“The guy at the store said crates are like a den to them. They make them feel safe.”
“But he’s crying,” Mac said, like the sound pained him.
I propped myself on my elbow so I could see him better. “You are a huge softy, aren’t you?”
His expression pained, he asked, “How can you listen to him?”
I laughed. “I have a child. I’m used to crying and whining. You can’t give in or you’ll have a bigger problem. Besides, he’s not a baby that needs you to hold him when he cries.”
“Should we put the crate in here?” Mac asked.
“It might make him feel better to be with his pack.”
Mac moved the crate and puppy into his room and then turned off the light. After a few minutes, the puppy finally curled up and went to sleep.
Mac let out a breath. “Who knew having a puppy would be this much work?”
“I think you’re up for the challenge.” The puppy would be good for him, filling his house with noise and energy when we couldn’t be here.
CHAPTER16
MAC
The puppy woke me once in the middle of the night and then again early in the morning. I enjoyed getting up early in the morning and drinking my coffee. I just wondered what I’d do when I needed to go to work. Maybe he could come with me? Or perhaps he could stay with Natalie?
Once the puppy did his business, I fed him and got started on breakfast, pulling out eggs, bacon, and pancake mix. I wasn’t sure what Delaney and Natalie ate for breakfast.
Delaney woke up first and wandered into the kitchen in her wrinkled clothes with her hair knotted. “Morning, sweetie. You find the bathroom okay?”
She sat on the stool, looking a little confused. “We’re still here.”
I nodded. “You fell asleep on the couch last night. We didn’t want to move you.”
“Are you making breakfast?” she asked, perking up a bit.
“Eggs, pancakes, and bacon. Which do you prefer?”
“Can I have a little of everything?”
I held my hand over my heart. “A girl after my own heart.”
When she giggled, she stole another piece of my heart.
I pulled out the orange juice and poured her a glass. When her eyes got big, I thought to ask, “Is your mom okay with you having juice?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Are you telling me the truth?” I had a bad feeling about it.
Delaney grimaced. “Juice isn’t good for your teeth. Mommy only lets me have it when I’m sick or on vacation.”
I swiped the glass away, dumping it into the sink. “Thank you for being honest. Milk?”
She nodded, looking disappointed.
