Chapter 17
Sitting in the chair across from my desk, Casper speaks with a hushed voice, even though the door is closed. “Are you sure you aren’t taking this too far?”
That’s rich coming from him; a house of cards has more stability than Casper.
Thor leans against the wall of my office with his arms crossed over his chest. He swivels his gaze to Casper and shoots an open palm in my direction. “Of course he’s taking it too far!”
He grins ear to ear at Thor’s outburst; he loves getting a rise out of him. Thankfully, Kelly is out taking the unnamed dog for a short walk. I’ve just finished going over the upcoming travel plans for the expo in Bozeman. I have no idea if she’ll even be speaking to me by then.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sigh. This was always the plan. Did they think I wouldn’t follow through? The hard part is over; Casper and I went out to Bozeman a few months ago and took care of everything. The only thing left to do is show up.
“I need you to trust me on this,” I say, repeating myself from earlier.
Thor scoffs at that answer.
“Are you telling me you wouldn’t have done the same with Salem if given half the chance?” I’ve struck a nerve. Hell, I’ve probably fucked up his entire nervous system by just mentioning her name. Casper oscillates back and forth between us while we have a mini stare-down.
Thor’s jaw tics. “That’s different,” he growls.
“How?”
Casper gives a half-hearted laugh and waves his hand lazily. “I mean . . .”
Thor’s situation wasn’t anything like this. But still, he knows I’m right. He’s just pissed I thought of it first.
Thor glares at Casper and then me. “Why me?”
“Insurance.”
“If this ever—”
“It won’t,” I assure him. “I give you my word.”
He gives me a long look. “You’re being fucking reckless.”
I shrug. He’s right, but that doesn’t change anything. “The ends justify the means. It stays between us,” I remind him. “I’ll owe you one.”
Thor pushes off the wall and nearly rips the door off its hinges when he yanks it open. “Yeah, you will,” he says, storming out and making the loose papers on my desk flutter. The door bounces off the wall and shudders while gently swinging.
Casper leans back in the chair and calls out the door. “That was your best dramatic exit yet!”
“I knew I shouldn’t have brought her up.” Mentioning her name was like tossing a grenade. It worked as I intended, but a dick move nonetheless.
“And yet you did it anyway.” He smiles. “So . . . you ready for this?”
I smirk, turning my chair toward my screen and getting back to work. “What do you think?”
“I think you might be crazier than me,” he says, grinning wider. Impossible.
I nod to the door. “Can you shut that? I have something else I want to show you.”
He leans over, grabbing the edge of the door and nudging it shut. As soon as it clicks again, I remove the folded envelope from my drawer.
“Billy tried reaching out to Kelly.”
I heard Kelly telling Thor she was staying late tonight, so I asked if she could watch the stray until I got back from running an errand.
The more time they spend together, the better.
I want her to become attached. Can’t imagine it will take much, considering I’m already bonded and it’s been less than forty-eight hours since I brought him home from the shelter.
The night Camden showed up with Chicken Salad, I was rock solid in my no-animals-allowed policy. But one look at Kelly with my dog and I’m bending the rules for her. Pathetic.
My “errand” is purchasing dog food, as if I didn’t just do it yesterday.
However, with the sour mood Kelly’s been in the last week—which seems to have reached a crescendo today—it’s a no-brainer to pick up her favorite pad thai from the restaurant on the other side of town.
Took me a bit longer, but she needs to eat something.
It’s such a rare occasion to see her irritable. I’m supposed to be the grumpy one.
When I pull into the rear lot of Black Rabbit, I park next to the only car left—Kelly’s. I snatch the plastic bag of Thai food with one hand, tucking the kibble under my arm before hopping out.
The autoclave is noisily running in the sterilization room when I return, but as I walk down the hall closer to her station, her voice becomes more audible.
It sounds like she’s talking to someone on the phone.
I soften my footsteps and carefully set down the food in my office, then tiptoe closer so I can eavesdrop.
Even better, the mirror in Casper’s workstation across from Kelly’s offers a perfect view of her, but I don’t like what I see reflected back. Her eyes are heavy the way they are when she’s been thinking for too long. And she’s not on the phone, she’s talking to my dog.
Kelly sits on the backless stool and scratches behind his ears.
“Over a week. No calls, no voice notes, no memes, nothing . . . I saw him at work, but I was careful to hold my boundaries and keep my space. It’s this cleanse thing I’m doing.
” She speaks while signing at the same time.
She’s made a lot of improvement in the last few months.
“I don’t think he’s even noticed,” she says.
I’ve noticed—every day, every hour, every fucking minute that passed has been done in misery.
I’ve played her little game all week. I kept myself occupied with work and went to bed early every night. It was easier to keep busy and sleep than admit she’s stopped talking to me, and seeing her day after day and wondering what she’s thinking.
“Then you show up. And he decides he’s going to keep you. Not gonna lie, I was mad at first, but you seem like kindred spirits. Unfortunately, now it makes it harder for me too.”
Our dog yawns and rests his head on her knee.
Her fingers delve into the long fur on his shoulder blades.
She withdraws her hands to sign, but this time she doesn’t speak while doing it.
Like saying the words out loud is too difficult.
Her movements are a little fumbled, but I’m able to piece together what she’s trying to say.
“I was hoping for some clarity, ya know? Thought if I had a break from him, I’d realize I was confusing his comfort for something else. Maybe I’d discover that my feelings toward him were simply . . . codependence.”
Her eyes soften, and she looks so fucking . . . dejected. She’s been masking her sadness with anger. I’d rather carve out my kneecaps than see her hurting like this. Fuck.
“I wanted to ignore the feelings so they would just go away.”
The dog huffs out a big sigh.
“I know, that shit never works, but I had to try,” she says aloud.
A small smile crosses my lips.
“You want to know what hurts the most?” Hearing her voice crack is like a knife in my chest.
She wipes her fingers under her eyes that I now realize are brimming with tears. “He’s fine!” She laughs.
Guilt clogs my throat.
The dog lifts his head.
“What kind of bullshit is that, anyway?” She groans.
“Ignoring my feelings for him hurts more than my split with Jason did. Isn’t that fucked?
And the longer we go without speaking, the harder it is.
” She wipes away a tear. “Now when he’s around, he makes the job I love feel like servitude .
. . I’ll never be able to truly let go when he owns my family’s shop.
But breakups don’t last forever, eventually the pain fades. ”
She’s not talking about her ex, she’s talking about me.
He lifts a paw to rest on her knee, and I appreciate him comforting her in a way I can’t right now. Well, I could, but I’m too selfish. I’d rather get caught up on what’s going on in her head, since she’s been keeping me in the dark.
“You know what it feels like? It’s like being locked in a room with only two exits. Behind one door is inevitable heartbreak, and behind the other is endless longing . . . and neither is an escape. So I just keep staying in the room, trapped.”
He lowers his paw to the floor, and she holds him captive again with her hands as she signs more.
“I hate having a crush in adulthood. It’s way worse than when I was a teenager, because now there’s thick forearms and hot, broody demeanors.
And your new dad has them both in spades.
He’s not as gorgeous as you are, but he’s still .
. . Damn, he’s something, that’s for sure. ”
My chin drops to my chest and I grin in amusement. I could not be happier with her admission. We’re finally getting on the same page at the same time. The furry menace lifts his head and licks her palm.
“I’m gonna get over it,” she vows. “You’ll see.”
I roll my eyes. Like hell.
“Or I won’t, and I’ll be cursed to live out the rest of my days miserable and horny. Ugh, this is so unconstructive!” She furrows her brow. “No, not you. You’re terrific. In fact, you should look into getting your therapy license.”
Looks like ol’ Dogmeat can be an emotional support dog after all.
With her head cocked to the side, she strokes his fur. Kelly gazes at him thoughtfully. I’m about to interrupt when she speaks.
“Wanna know something crazy?” she asks. “I got a letter from my dad the other day, and he told me to find someone who takes in the strays. Who observes beauty without taking a photograph. Who has art in their soul and fire in their veins the same way you do.” She continues, whispering, “That’s Logan . . . He described Logan.”
I glance at the ceiling and sign thank you to Clyde.
For being dead, the old man is doing some serious heavy lifting.
He can’t take full credit, I’d already read his letter the night of her birthday while cleaning up the kitchen, but I appreciate the playbook nonetheless.
Why else would I have gone through all this trouble?
Clyde would have done the same thing for Nancy, so I consider that a stamp of approval.
“Do you think he’d be a good partner?” she asks.
The dog groans. Way to help, asshole.
“What? I’m serious. He’s a great friend, so probably.
He dated someone years ago, I never met her, but I guess they had a bad breakup or something because he doesn’t talk about it.
To be honest, I’ve never seen him with another woman .
. . ever. Wait a minute . . .” Her eyes grow wide. “What if he’s—”
All right, we’re done here.
I step into the light, interrupting that thought before she can finish it. “Come up with a name for him yet?”