Chapter 12
Hazel
For the first time in…I didn’t know how long, probably since the last time Elijah and I had slept together, my brain was silent. My head rested on his shoulder. His chest rose and fell in deep breaths, and his heart pounded a quick beat in my ear. Breath by breath, his heart rate slowed.
I must have been falling asleep because he ran a hand down my back, and I startled.
“Are you okay?” he asked the top of my head.
I snorted. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“I wasn’t too rough with you?”
Turning my head, I propped myself up to meet his eyes. “No.”
“Good.” With his middle finger, he pushed a few strands of hair behind my ear. “Are you as hungry as I am?”
“I’m pretty hungry.”
A few minutes later, I stepped out of my bathroom and found Elijah March in only his slacks, taking a pan off of my rack. The lean muscles in his stomach flexed under his skin, and I thanked every decision that had led me to this moment.
There was a saucepan heating on the stove already.
I pulled my messy hair over one shoulder and sat in a chair at the kitchen table. The sweatshirt and shorts I’d pulled out of my drawer suddenly felt very unsexy compared to Elijah.
“Dinner and a show, huh?” I joked.
One side of his mouth lifted. “You almost missed it. I’m putting my shirt on as soon as I start heating the olive oil.”
“What are you making?”
“Nothing fancy. Sauteing some veggies, Parmesan couscous, and there’s salmon in the oven.” He shrugged. “I figured a simple dinner, and then we could put our attention to other things.”
A thrill shot through my stomach. My body already ached pleasantly from our earlier things. “Felt pretty confident about how tonight was going to go, hmm?”
His green eyes flicked to me with promise. And it all felt so natural, having him here. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t built up the courage to text him for all those months. My memory had created a monument out of him. My unattainable first crush, and then the title of sex god—which, to be fair, he deserved—but also, he was just a really kind man.
“We’ve already proven my confidence to be correct.” He reached for his white undershirt draped over the back of the chair next to me. The fabric stretched as he pulled it on.
“Well, I’m happy not to prove you wrong on this one.”
Grinning, he drizzled olive oil on the heated pan. “Did you get everything done you wanted to when you came back today?”
I slouched and rested my cheek in my palm. The events of the past couple hours came back to me. I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but I had figured it would. Anxiety slithered in my stomach. “No, I kinda got wrapped up in something I should have just ignored.”
A crease formed between his eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”
“The churches are creating an uproar around our auction.”
“Why am I not surprised?” He shook his head. “I don’t want to come off cynical, but my dad’s at the top of this, isn’t he?”
With an exhale, I nodded. “Yeah.”
I’d read a couple of his posts on the community’s page, and it hurt. He had struck at my character. Citing past moments where he’d supposedly gone against his gut and believed me to be virtuous—whatever the hell that meant. The venom in his words was hard to swallow, causing my stomach to twist and my head to swim. My vision had darkened around the edges as my blood pressure skyrocketed reading my neighbors’ battle in the comments.
I knew my relationship with my mentor had been tarnished, but for him to openly condemn me made me want to hide. But I wouldn’t.
I had a mess on my hands, and a way to clean it up. I would see this auction through. I would raise the money the humane society needed, and I would not cower in front of a bully.
No matter how badly I wanted to.
Elijah pressed his lips into a thin line and swallowed as if it was the only way to keep his anger in check. “I’m sorry, Hazel. You know you have a lot of support around you, right?”
I breathed in deeply. “Yeah.”
“You wanna keep talking about it or something else?”
“Something else. I don’t want to get bogged down with it.”
He poured a plastic container of fresh veggies into the heated oil. “Have I ever told you about my friend Seb?”
“I don’t think so.”
“He’s my business partner, and the reason we started the company. He got it in his head that we could do it for ourselves, and when he’s determined about something, he doesn’t let it go.”
“Kinda like Nora?”
He stilled, considering the comparison, before a smile spread across his face. “Yeah, but way less calculated. He is just action. If he’s working toward something and hits a block, he either breaks through the block or finds a way around it. He just never anticipates the block.”
I rolled my eyes. “Nora anticipates every block, which makes her impossible to defeat.”
His laughter, warm and easy, burst into the kitchen. “Defeat. You make her sound like a supervillain.”
“She would make a spectacular supervillain.”
“She really would.”
“What is it exactly that you do?”
“Network securities.”
I blinked. “That explains nothing to me.”
He smiled and nodded. “I get that a lot. So, if a business’ data is compromised, or ransomware is installed in their core infrastructure, we go in and take care of it.”
“Ransomware?”
“Yeah, hackers will shut down websites until they receive funds.”
“That’s so mafia.”
He snorted. “It is.”
“That’s an interesting job, though.”
“It can be.”
After just a few more minutes and conversation, Elijah carried our plates to the table. It looked and smelled delicious—the aroma of garlic and herb wafting in the air. Before sitting next to me, he reached behind him for a lemon he’d quartered off the counter.
“I hope you enjoy it.” He shifted his shoulders with jerky motions.
“I’m sure I will. No one’s ever cooked for me before.”
“Really?”
“No. It looks really good.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched me bring a bite of salmon to my mouth. I closed my eyes as the flavors mixed, bright and savory on my tongue.
I held my fork in front of my lips. “This is delicious. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He looked around as if he was searching for something. “You don’t have a pet?”
Disappointment sank in my stomach. “No. I don’t have the time to devote to a pet right now. Maybe when I don’t have to work so much…”
We sipped white wine as we ate, and I was looking forward to having a second glass halfway through my first one, when my phone rang. I intended to ignore it, but Chelsea Thelen’s name lit up my screen. Her son, Brock, was overseas, and she was watching his dog.
It can wait, I told myself, even as a crease formed between my eyebrows.
“Do you need to get that?” Elijah asked.
I chewed my lower lip and shook my head. “I just don’t know why she’d be calling. She’s not an after-hours caller like some pet owners.”
“It’s okay. You can answer it.”
“I don’t want—”
“It’s okay. I get it; I have a job that has emergency hours. You should answer it.”
“Okay, thank you. I’m so sorry.” I waffled between apology and gratitude as my phone continued to buzz. Answering it, I pressed it to my ear. “Hey Chelsea, what’s going on?”
Her voice came through strained, as if she was trying not to cry, and I was instantly more nervous about what she was going to say next. “It’s Echo, Brock’s dog…”
“Okay, what’s going on with Echo?” My tone had assumed the assertive professional detachment I tended to use during high-stress vet visits.
“He seems like he’s in a lot of pain—”
In the background, I heard one of her younger kids say, “Mom, he’s throwing up.”
“—He’s been in this position where his butt is in the air, and his face and front paws are on the ground. At first, we thought he wanted to play, but his tail wasn’t wagging. And he’s been in that position for a while, and now he’s throwing up.”
“Mm-hmm, can you get him to the clinic?”
“He doesn’t want to move, and he’s too big for me to pick up.”
“We’ll go get him,” Elijah said from behind me—clearly, he could hear the conversation happening on the phone.
“Send me your address, Chelsea. We’ll get him in your car and you can follow us to the clinic.”
“I don’t even want to ask, but how much is it going to cost?” Through the phone, I could hear one of her kids let out an appalled, “Mom, who cares about money? It’s Echo.”
But both Chelsea and I knew just how much money played a factor. She was a single mom, with her oldest son serving in the military, and two younger kids between twelve and fifteen. And I didn’t know how I would pay for this dog’s care if she couldn’t contribute any funds, but I also couldn’t stand to think of Echo being in pain, knowing I could help him.
I sounded more confident than I felt as I said, “Let’s take care of Echo, and we’ll discuss payment later.”
“I don’t have much.” Her shame came through the speaker, as if her lack of wealth was a character flaw.
“If it comes down to the clinic taking care of it, that’s what we’ll do.”
“Thank you, Hazel.”
“Send me your address; we’ll be right there.”
I stepped out of the examination room while Remi gave Echo fluids through an IV. Remi had agreed to assist me, even after I’d told him I didn’t know if I’d be able to pay him.
He’d paused, then said, “I’d pay you for the distraction today.”
I’d tilted my head.
His chest had fallen with a sigh. “Five years ago today, I got divorced…”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It probably shouldn’t fuck me up like it does. Anyway, I appreciate the distraction.”
In the waiting room, I found Elijah reading on his phone. His ankle was crossed over his knee, and one hand hung loosely toward the tile floor. He’d insisted on staying until I was done, promising we could continue with our date, or he could drop me off at my house if I needed to rest instead. But seeing the way he looked like a GQ model in my uncomfortable vinyl waiting chairs, I was feeling less tired.
Chelsea sat at the other end of the room with her two daughters, looking anxious. She was only about ten years older than me, but with a kid sitting on each side of her, and another one old enough to serve overseas, those ten years seemed like a larger gap. She was beautiful, but exhaustion was deep-set in the slouch of her shoulders and heaviness of her eyes. The kind of weariness that needed more than a nap to stave away, as if it was a constant pressure clinging to her piggyback-style.
Her oldest looked up, her eyes the same gray shade as her mom’s. “She’s back.”
Chelsea blinked, then met my gaze.
“Echo is okay.” I held up my hand in a comforting gesture.
She deflated with a sigh. The tension left the stiffness of her spine, and she fell back into the chair, her head resting against the wall. I looked down at my sensible sneakers, giving her whatever privacy I could as she blinked back tears. I couldn’t imagine having a son on the other side of the world, and then how terrible it would be to consider telling him that his dog wasn’t well… or worse.
When she sat up straight again, I could still see her raw emotions. She swallowed and nodded for me to continue.
I sank into the seat across from her, and I felt more than saw Elijah’s gaze on me—as if he was looking for any vulnerable spots I might need protecting. “Echo suffered from acute pancreatitis. It is not breed specific; sometimes it can be triggered by a fatty meal—”
“He only eats dog food,” the oldest daughter interrupted.
The youngest sank deeper into her chair, and I worried she’d been slipping Echo human food. Not because it could have caused his condition, but because it likely didn’t, and the little girl didn’t deserve to feel guilty for it.
I smiled at the oldest, hoping to ease her defensiveness. “That’s awesome. That’s exactly what he should be eating.” I shrugged. “Honestly, this just happens sometimes. He is not likely to suffer from this again, and it is very treatable. Are you comfortable talking about money here, or would you like to step into my office for more privacy?”
Chelsea’s eyes flickered to her daughters, then to Elijah, who was already standing and moving to the front door.
“Can the girls go see Echo?” she asked.
“It’s best that they don’t. He’s groggy right now and needs to rest.”
“We can stay, Mom,” the oldest daughter argued, her tone petulant in the way a teenager could produce. “Maybe we can help.”
Chelsea shook her head.
The youngest daughter watched the power struggle with wide hazel eyes.
“Mom,” the oldest begged, the word bound up tight.
Chelsea sighed. “Fine.”
I lifted a questioning eyebrow. It wasn’t until she nodded that I continued, “I’d like to keep him for two nights as I need to monitor his progress. Remi—Dr. Skogman,” I corrected, “has already volunteered to take care of Echo until Monday. I can cover the cost of his treatment today, as well as the hospitalization.”
“Hazel, that’s too much. You have to run your business.”
She wasn’t wrong, but I lifted my chin and rolled my shoulders back. “We’ll be okay. He’s going to need special medicinal food for the next six months, and it is expensive.” I handed her a piece of paper I had folded in my palm. “This is the wholesale price per bag, and how many bags I expect you’ll need over the next few months. The total is at the bottom. Can you cover this expense?”
Chelsea’s features remained blank as she looked at the amount. “I can.”
I believed her, even if I could see her calculate the sacrifices she’d make to afford it. I crossed my legs and leaned forward. “Do you have any more questions?”
“Can I work here?” The oldest caught me off guard.
Chelsea’s head hung toward the floor. “Baby, how many times do we have to go through this? I don’t want you to have a job. You should be worrying about school. Let me worry about the money.”
“Worry about the money? All you do is worry about the money. Let me help… I can get a job.”
I interrupted before their argument could go any further. “I don’t have a position you can do right now. Did you ask because you’re interested in animals?”
She nodded sullenly.
“I always loved animals, too. You can always volunteer at the humane society.”
The corner of Chelsea’s mouth quirked up in a prideful smile. “Both girls do actually, a couple of times a month.”
I beamed. “That’s great.”
We went over a few more details before I waved goodbye to them, though they stayed with me while I let Remi know I was leaving. They remained in the back of my mind as Elijah drove to my home. And as I tried to think of a way to tell him I needed to go to sleep—a.k.a. cry in the shower because this family deserved better. This community deserved better.
I didn’t know what else I could do.
“That was very generous of you,” he said after a few moments of silence.
I shrugged.
“Can you afford that?” he asked.
No.
“I’ll be fine,” I answered flatly.
“It’s great how much you care, but you need to take care of yourself, too.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Okay. Can I help with anything?” He put the car into park in my driveway.
I met his eye. “I don’t need any help, but thank you.”
At my front door, he wrapped me in his arms with his chin resting atop my head. It was all so tender, safe.
“Do you want to be alone?” he asked.
“I think I need to be.”
He kissed my hair. “I get it. I’ll bring you coffee tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
I sank into him, my cheek resting against the soft fabric of his sweater. My shoulders relaxed away from my ears as the hair atop my head tangled in his beard.
But it was my heart that really fell.