Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
ROMILLY
Bash does surprisingly decent at work the rest of the week. Despite his obvious physical strength, I thought he’d have a much harder time. It does, however, take me a ridiculous amount of restraint to not freak out on Saturday when he gets bit by Shadow, a black Schnauzer.
He’s going to quit. He’s going to quit just like Lana and Agatha did and leave me to do this all alone.
But holding up his thumb, Bash grins at me. “I’m going to get rabies, aren’t I?”
“Why do you look so excited about that idea?”
“Because I’m a man, Romilly. I live for danger. Will I die?”
I shrug one shoulder. “Anything is possible.”
“Excellent.”
With a laugh, I look for a bandage in my bag, hanging from my station. “All the dogs that come in have to be up to date on their shots, and the system would alert me if they weren’t. So, sorry. No rabies today. But here. Let me patch you up, just in case.”
He laughs at my concern, pulling his hand away. “No need. I’m fine. I only got nipped.”
“Give me your hand, Sebastian.” I take it firmly in mine and peel back the wrapping on the bandage.
“I’ve survived worse wounds than this, believe me.”
“I’m sure that’s true, but I can’t have you bleeding on the dogs, or getting your hand infected.”
Once he’s all patched up, he inspects his hand, flexing his fingers. His gaze shifts from his hand to my face, making me blush. There’s something about his amused, intrigued expression that makes me want to look away. But I hold his stare anyway.
“Did you know you often smell like lavender?”
I blink through the haze of his words. “Lavender?”
“Yes,” he says. “It’s one of my favorite smells.” He turns back to Shadow and unties the dog’s tether on the ground loop, then leads him to the washroom in the back. Just like that. As if commenting on the way I smell—which apparently, is his favorite— was no big deal.
Focus, Romilly.
It hits me for the first time how different working with Bash is going to be than working with Lana. My old bather was always so quiet, so professional. But Bash’s random compliments and the way he openly checks me out like it’s part of the job description isn’t something I’m used to.
This isn’t going to work unless he and I can coexist professionally. I refuse to mix business with pleasure, especially with the state of my business already so fragile.
Without overthinking it, I beeline to the back room where Bash is elbow deep in the tub, washing a now-muzzled Shadow. I almost laugh at the way he’s hunched over like a giant at a miniature sink before I refocus. I place my hands on my hips. “What was that about?”
He looks at me over his shoulder, his brows drawing together. “What was what about?”
“That little comment. About me smelling like lavender.”
“You do smell like lavender. Almost every time I see you.”
I reach around his massive shoulder and shut off the stream of water. “We need to talk about this.”
He frowns like he has no idea what this is about. “Okay. What’s wrong?”
My annoyance doubles at his oblivious tone. “I’d like you to know that I take my work environment very seriously. I won’t tolerate us intermingling or flirting. Okay?”
At that, he finally turns to face me completely.
Shadow glares at him from the tub as he pulls a red lollipop out of his pocket and sucks it into his mouth.
The confusion in his eyes has evaporated, and now he just looks like he’s trying really hard not to laugh.
An annoying half-grin graces his lips. “Okay…but it kinda sounds like you’re expecting me to pretend I don’t find you attractive.
And I’m sorry, but that’s not going to happen.
We can keep things professional, but I think you’re beautiful, and also really distracting. ”
My brain stops working for a moment. I know I should be glad he just agreed to keep things professional, but there’s only one thing I’m focusing on. He thinks I’m beautiful. But instead of commenting on it, I blurt, “Where did you get the lollipop?”
“Why?” He smirks and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Do you want one?”
I kinda do, but I shake my head. “No, I do not want one, Sebastian. We’re working.”
“You can call me Bash, you know. Everyone but my parents does.”
I make a mental note that he prefers his nickname, so I don’t slip up again.“You’re right. I’m sorry, Bash.”
He grins. “But Sebastian honestly doesn’t sound too bad the way you say it.”
I gape at him. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. That was unprofessional.”
“You’re right.”
I expect him to follow his statement with a “sorry” but he doesn’t. I sigh.
This is going to be a long two months.
Clearing my throat, I gesture to the dog shivering in the tub behind him. “Shadow is probably getting cold.”
Bash takes his time turning back around, letting his gaze linger longer than necessary. When he returns to Shadow, flicking the water switch back on, I take a deep, steadying breath and return to the front of the shop.
Sitting at the reception desk to wait for my next dog is probably the best thing to do, considering how jittery I feel after that interaction with him.
I think you’re beautiful, and also really distracting.
I shake my head and send Addison a text.
Me
I think I need to fire my new bather.
Addison
What? Why?
Me
He thinks I’m…beautiful.
Addison
HE SAID THAT?
Me
Yes.
Addison
You’re acting like that’s not common knowledge, though. Maybe he was simply stating a fact and not trying to flirt with you or anything.
Me
That is so sweet. I love you, Adds.
Addison
See? That was me just stating facts. Not complimenting you. You’re easily confused by these things, apparently.
Me
He also said he likes the sound of his name when I say it.
Addison
OKAY…UM…
This is giving me flashbacks from when I was Perry's nanny. But still, we can work with this!
Ah, yes. When her deep attraction to Perry made her panic during a family trip with him and his kids.
I remember texting her about it last summer, talking her down in a way similar to how she’s texting me.
Except there’s nothing for her to talk me down from, because I’m not panicking.
Yes, Bash is extremely attractive himself for a tattooed giant, but that has nothing to do with me. It doesn’t affect me at all , in fact.
Me
Come to church with me tomorrow morning. We can talk more about this then.
Addison
I don’t know. Remember what happened last time?
I briefly recall the way Addison’s newborn cried on and off the entire service before she and Perry ended up leaving early.
I’m about to text her back, but my mom calls me. I lift the phone to my ear. “Hey, Mom!”
“Hey. How did the paint turn out? You never told me.”
A twinge of guilt nicks my stomach. “Sorry. It turned out great!”
She laughs. “Good. Just wanted to make sure you don’t need anything else before your father and I leave town.”
“You’re leaving town?”
“Yes. He’s taking me on a just because trip. A cruise, actually. Just the two of us.”
I frown. “What about Aiden?”
“Zara will be home with him. She’s going to take him to school,” my mom says. “It’s a good thing, too, because I’m sure that boy would miss the rest of his senior year if we’d let him. And before you ask me, I don’t know where we’re going because it’s a surprise.”
The joy in my mom’s voice does strange things to my heart.
Part of me feels happy for her, because she and Dad have always had such a loving, healthy relationship, even after giving birth to me and my siblings.
I’ve definitely envied them more than once.
And now is no exception. But along with the envy, there’s sadness knowing I’m pushing away the possibility of what she has—a happy marriage and children who love her.
By letting Cole taint my view of relationships, I’m pushing away surprise trips to share with the one I love, or fostering children like I once dreamed of, and Christmas mornings filled with those children’s laughter as they rip open their gifts.
I won’t have that note of romantic wanderlust in my voice when I tell people how my husband made me smile.
I won’t have any of it, because I no longer want it. I don’t .
“I hope you two have fun, Mom. I, uh, have to get back to work.”
“Thanks, sweetie. Don’t work too hard, okay?”
If only she knew. “Okay.”
When I hang up, I try to focus on the positive. You have a place of your own to call home, Romilly. You own a thriving pet salon. Or, at least, it will be thriving once Agatha comes back. And best of all, you’re not lonely. You’re just fine. And no one can break your heart again.
But then Bash breaks my focus as he emerges from the back and locks eyes with me. He looks like he has a question, but when he takes in the way I’m hunched over at my desk, aggressively rubbing my temples, his expression shifts into concern. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
His frown deepens. “Have you eaten anything today?”
I frown right back. “No. Why?”
“Are you trying to make yourself sick?” He stomps over to the desk I’m still moping at. Rifling through one of the drawers, he pulls out a protein bar and hands it to me. “Here. You should eat something.”
“Where did those come from?”
“Eat one, and I’ll tell you.”
Rolling my eyes, I unwrap the bar and take a bite. Mostly, I do it because my stomach has been screaming at me all morning, but I didn’t have time for breakfast because I accidentally overslept.
“More,” he urges. He picks up another and unwraps it, like he plans to feed me like a baby once I finish the one I’m working on.
I continue eating until I’m left with only an empty yellow wrapper. “These are really good.”
“Thanks.” He grins. “They’re my favorite.”
I resist the urge to laugh. “And you…stuffed a bunch of them up here for later?”
“Yes. They’re delicious. And some people don’t enjoy masochism.”
My mouth falls open. “I’m not a masochist!”
“You’ve been starving yourself all morning. What do you call it?”