10. Derrick
10
DERRICK
I can’t fucking believe I’m crawling on the muddy ground under a bush to rescue a fluffy white dog. Not so fluffy now, I suppose, since he’s wet. And not quite as pristine white, if he’s covered in mud like this. Izzy’s mournful cries were like a kick to my gut. Despite her fear of storms, she’d be out here all night looking for him if she had to.
“Come here, bud.” I inch closer to him. I’m soaked through, and it’ll take a lot of work to get all the mud out of my jeans, but it’s worth it if it means I can take this little guy home to his momma.
With a whimper, he cowers, his little body trembling.
I hold my hand out so he can smell my fingers, hoping it reminds him that I’m safe.
Wonton crawls forward an inch, giving me a tiny sniff .
“It’s me, bud.” I curl my fingers, urging him forward, but instead of coming closer, he backs off.
Another crack of thunder echoes in the sky, quickly followed by a strike of lightning so close it illuminates everything around us.
Wonton takes off again, letting out a yelp.
Cursing, I crawl out from under the bush and scan the yard in search of a flash of white. But visibility is becoming non-existent in the deluge, making it impossible to see more than a couple of feet in front of me.
“Fuck,” I curse, running in the direction I think Wonton went.
I scour the area for another twenty minutes before my boots are so wet, my feet squelch inside them each time I take a step and I’m so chilled I can’t stop shivering. Hating to give up but having no other option, I head home. The last thing I want is to see the devastation on Izzy’s face when I return empty-handed, but searching on foot like this will do me no good, and I’ll be lucky if I don’t end up sick.
I call and whistle as I make the trek back to the house, determined to shower and change and head back out in my truck if he hasn’t shown up by the time I’m done.
When I pull the storm door open and step inside, I find Izzy curled on the floor in front of me.
Shit. I felt bad before, but this is so much worse.
“Izzy,” I whisper.
Her head snaps up, eyes red and puffy from crying. “Did you find him?” She scrambles to her knees, her face falling when she takes in my empty hands.
Despite being soaking wet, I kneel on the floor and take her into my arms.
“C’mere. ”
She wraps her arms around my neck and holds on, sobbing into the crook of my neck. I’m still so cold my extremities are mostly numb, but I’m not about to let her go.
“He’s my best friend.” Another sob escapes her, followed by another so strong it racks her body and mine. “And now he’s out there all alone and scared.”
I cup the back of her head and rock from side to side. “I saw him.”
She pulls away from me so abruptly she nearly bonks me on the nose. “You did?”
A heavy sigh escapes me, and my shoulders droop. “I climbed under a bush. I almost had him there, but he got spooked and ran off again. Once I’m showered and changed, I’ll take the truck out to look.”
It’s only then that she fully takes in my current state.
Soaking wet.
Covered in mud.
I sneeze, turning my head just in time to keep from hitting her with the force of it.
“Fuck.” Her hands flutter around my body like butterflies, but neither lands on me. “You need to get out of these clothes.”
I fucking hate that my brain immediately thinks about her taking my clothes off. Fuck. I’m an asshole.
Clearing my throat, I gently slide her off my lap and stand. Then I hold a hand out and help her up.
“Maybe by the time I’m cleaned up, the storm will have let up.”
Her bottom lip trembles, and I can’t resist putting my thumb there.
“Hey,” I soothe. “We’re going to find him.”
I’ll stay out all night long if I have to. There’s no way I’ll stop until the little guy is home .
She nods woodenly, full of uncertainty. I can’t blame her.
I hesitate for a second longer before letting my thumb drop from her mouth. Then I take the stairs two at a time to get away from her before I do something stupid.
I’m still shivering violently as I kick my boots off and head for the sanctuary of my shower. I redid the bathrooms about three years ago, and since then, I’ve kicked myself for not doing it sooner. I live for the rainfall shower and multiple sprayers at the end of a long workday.
Unfortunately, luxuriating in here will have to wait. Eager to get back outside to look for Wonton, I take a shower so quick, it reminds me of the days my kids were babies and time to myself was nonexistent.
Outside the window, the rain is still coming down, but it’s eased up significantly.
Still, I pull on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, then dig out my raincoat.
Downstairs, Izzy is curled up on the couch, her eyes redder than before.
“Come on.” I jerk my head at the door. “Let’s go.”
Without hesitation, she scoops her own rain jacket off the cushion beside her. Then she slips her feet into a pair of boots.
“He has to be so scared,” she says in a soft whimper as we’re creeping down the road.
“Or maybe he’s having the greatest adventure of his life,” I counter, though I’m pretty sure the small dog is terrified out of his mind.
She rolls down the window and calls his name, then turns back to me, her lip caught between her teeth. “How far do you think he could’ve gotten?”
With a deep inhale, I tap my fingers against the steering wheel. “Even scared, I don’t think he would’ve gone far. He’s probably hunkered down?—”
“Wonton!” she screams as she throws the door open and undoes her seat belt.
I manage to slam on the brakes before she leaps from the car.
“Wonton!” she cries, running for the sopping wet dog who’s crouched by the front steps of a house a few streets over from mine.
He wags his tail, but he makes no move to get up.
Worried that he’s injured, I hop out of the truck and jog through the rain that’s lightened up dramatically. Near the house, Izzy drops to her knees and scoops the dog against her chest.
She buries her face in his neck, shoulders shaking with heavy sobs. “I’m so happy you’re okay.” Her voice cracks on the last word.
She stands carefully and turns back to the truck, only to halt when she sees me.
“Thank you.” She crosses the distance between us and tips her head back, not the least bit fazed by the rain running down her face. “Thank you for looking for him in the rain and for coming back out now. Just… thank you.”
She stands on her tiptoes and brushes a gentle kiss to my cheek. My skin burns from the touch.
“I guess we can get dinner from the diner after all,” she says with a pat to my chest before she heads back to the truck. “I certainly don’t feel like cooking now.”
Her flippant tone after the chaos of the past two hours or so has me throwing my head back and laughing.
Izzy is curled up on the couch with her food while Wonton runs around in circles, then scoots along the carpet, drying himself off from the bath she just gave him.
Biting into her BLT, she watches her dog, her eyes twinkling.
“God, I’m so glad he’s okay.”
Plate in hand, I sit beside her on the couch. “I am, too.”
She bumps my arm lightly with her elbow. “He’s grown on you, hasn’t he?”
“He’s impossible to resist,” I admit, watching him spread himself out on the floor and push off with his back feet.
Her smile is wide, pleased. When she turns back to her dog, she affects the dog baby voice that should annoy me but only endears me to her further. “That’s right, because who’s a good boy? You’re a good boy. No one can resist your charms. Not even Mr. Grumpy Pants.”
“Grumpy Pants,” I huff. “The nerve. Insulting me after I was out in the pouring rain crawling through mud after your dog.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She leans over, and at the same time, I shift in my seat, unaware that she was planning to plant a kiss on my cheek. The move causes her lips to land on the corner of my mouth instead. It’s not a real kiss, but fuck is it close.
We both freeze, breaths held and eyes wide.
She moves away first, face flaming red. “Sorry,” she mumbles, looking down at the to-go box in her lap. “That was… sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“S’okay,” I mutter. I reach for my Coke, though I watch her out of the corner of my eye.
She’s fucking cute. Her long, dark hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, and she’s dressed in a white tank top, gray shorts, and a pair of white fuzzy socks.
I quickly avert my attention to my drink before she can catch me checking her out.
Wonton, adorable menace that he is, hops up on the couch between us and shakes his damp body.
“Wonton,” Izzy laughs, breaking the tension between us. “That’s not nice.” With her next breath, she’s distraught, her eyes filling with tears. “Buddy, I don’t know what I would’ve done if we didn’t find you.” She peers up at me, sniffling. “That was the worst couple of hours of my life. I’m not exaggerating.”
“All that matters is he’s here and he’s safe.”
She slips a piece of bacon from her sandwich and holds it out to the dog. “Should I put Gilmore Girls on again?”
I’d appreciate the distraction. It’ll help me to avoid thoughts of the not-really-a-kiss and the fact that my dick didn’t get the memo.
“Sure.”
With a hum, she cues up the show, then settles her back against the couch.
Though focusing on the TV helps, I can’t stop myself from stealing glances at her every now and again. If she notices, she doesn’t show it.
I spend the next hour or so trying to focus on the storyline while getting lost in thoughts about Izzy. I can’t help thinking about how she’s only been here a short time and dreading what it’ll be like when I’m alone again.