Chapter 27
It feels like an eternity that I sit in the passenger seat of Jake’s truck, waiting. I have the vents blowing warm air at the duffel bag of puppies on my lap, and my attention set on the tree line.
Rain continues to fall in unrelenting droves, the sky looking more like evening light than late afternoon. “Come on, Jake,” I whisper, hugging the bag tighter. “Come back to us.”
Maybe there is something to his theories on chance and the universe. Because as soon as the words leave my lips, I watch the unmistakable rustle of trees. The movement is so subtle at first that I almost miss it. But then with another tremble of branches, Jake emerges.
He has his hat turned forward again, his face dipped low as if using the bill to protect something down around his chest. His arms are wrapped across himself, his flannel jacket unbuttoned. And two puppies’ faces peek out from inside the open flaps.
My heart leaps in my chest, partially from joy and partially from relief. “He did it,” I whisper to the rest of the litter. “Everyone is accounted for.”
Turning back to the truck window, I watch him slowly tip his chin upward, his dark eyes shining as they find me from underneath the cap.
My heart gives an exaggerated thud at the way he locks onto me and the corner of his mouth tugging up in that adorable way.
As if to say I can be the good guy in your story.
Or maybe that’s just what I’m thinking as he approaches.
I lean over and open my door for him, a spray of rain blowing in before he’s there and blocking it with his body. “You got them.” I beam as he unfolds the small animals from his coat and places them with their litter.
“Patches there didn’t make it easy,” he replies, lifting his hands to brace himself on the truck frame.
“Patches?” I look into the duffel, trying to guess which puppy he’s referring to. Fighting a smile, I add, “You named them already?”
“I named him. It only seemed right after having to crawl into some serious underbrush to get the little guy,” he replies warmly.
It’s sweet. So sweet. But I’m having difficulty focusing on that while he’s looking this sexy, leaning on his truck with his jacket exposing the wet T-shirt plastered to his strong torso.
“Patches it is,” I whisper, watching a bead of water run from his ear, down the curve of his neck, and disappear into the painted-on cotton.
He pats his truck once before taking a step back and closing the door. Then a moment later he climbs into the driver’s seat beside me. “Ready to get them to the shelter?” Jake asks, peeling off the waterlogged jacket and tossing it in the back seat.
I have to look away, it feels indecent to watch when I can see every ripple of muscle in the movement.
“Hopefully our vet is there waiting for them,” I reply, reaching into the duffel and stroking a finger over one of the pups.
“Parker only comes to the shelter a few days a week and this isn’t usually one of them. ”
“Think they’re in that bad of condition?” He throws the truck into drive.
“No, I don’t know. I hate that they were cold and wet like that. I would just feel better getting his professional opinion as soon as possible.”
What I don’t mention is that Parker has been one of the loudest voices against the Carpenters. A point that seems irrelevant after the way this Carpenter might have just caught pneumonia to save six puppies.
I reach out and point one of the vents towards him. Jake doesn’t say anything, but I watch his lips lift into a small smile. “You need to warm up too,” I explain. “I swear you have no self-preservation.”
“Mm, I always found self-preservation to be overrated,” he says teasingly. “After all, I’m about to walk into a situation with the man leading the charge to run me out of town.”
“You know?”
“He introduced himself when he stepped up to say his piece at that village trustees meeting.”
“I can take them myself if—”
“We’re in this together,” he says. “I mean Patches and me, of course.”
I shake my head. “Of course.”
“We’ll leave them in this exam room until all the necessary tests come back,” Parker says, holding one of the puppies up in the air. “Don’t want to affect any of the other animals at the shelter.”
“Do they look sick? Infected?” I ask nervously.
“Nothing stands out to me; I just want to be sure.” He places the squirming animal back in the travel crate they’ve all been transferred to, and she quickly cuddles up to her pile of siblings.
“It’s a good thing the passerby called when they did, though, this storm would have been gravely dangerous. ”
Jake and I exchange a look as the knot in my stomach tightens. He’s been keeping a respectable distance from me, having been introduced as my friend Jake—no last name. But I want him closer, I want him to reach for me again and make that awful feeling dissipate like before.
Maybe I don’t have any self-preservation either.
“And you’ll come back more often to check on them?”
Parker nods, zipping up the crate and starting toward the door. “You know I’ll be here round the clock,” he assures me warmly. Then turning to Jake, he adds, “I appreciate you helping Lucy today and taking the brunt of the storm for her.”
Jake looks over at me. “I’m glad she called. I’d do anything she needed.”
Satisfied, Parker steps into the hall, closing the door behind him. The moment he’s gone, I close the distance between us and clasp my hands on the outside of his arms. “Speaking of the brunt of the storm, you’re seriously soaked.”
He looks down at his clothes then back up at me, quirking a brow in amusement. “Let’s call it damp.”
“Jake, you could get sick from this, too, you need to go warm up.”
“I’m staying as long as you do,” he replies, reaching up and wrapping his arms around me. “Think I’ll leave you to find another way home in this weather?”
I take another step closer, my hands finding their way to his chest. “Then I guess it’s time for us to go.”
Normally, I’d spend the day watching the puppies. Maybe I’d set up a pen with blankets and towels for them to be able to spread out in the room. But all I can think of is Jake and the icy outer layer clinging to his body.
He glances between me and the travel kennel of puppies, as if reading my thoughts. I look over as well, noting the way they’re huddled together in the blanket I already got them, leaving more than half the crate unused. “They’ll be fine,” I assure him. And I can always come back later.
“If you’re sure…”
“I’m sure.”
Content that they are settled and comfortable, I usher him from the exam room and back out into the storm. Jake runs ahead to open the truck door for me, and this time I point all the vents his way before he comes around and climbs into the driver’s side.
If he notices once the truck starts up, he doesn’t say anything. But he does look over at me with a soft smile before starting up the drive.
I don’t live far from the shelter, and for the first time in my life, that disappoints me. Because the drive doesn’t give me enough time to form the thoughts I want to express to him.
As we park out front of my home, I shift on the bench seat, facing Jake. He does the same, our knees brushing together. “I appreciate it, too, you know,” I start, rubbing my lips together and wishing I was better at this. “Everything you did today.”
His eyes track the movement before flashing up to meet my gaze. “I meant it when I said anything you need. Not just if you need help, but any time you want to call, I want to be there.”
“Even if it’s a bad idea?”
“What’s the bad idea? Calling me?” He tries to mask it, but I hear the hurt in his tone. Like a subtle ripple breaking the surface of his typically cool demeanor. I shift closer, too, letting my knee graze higher along his thigh.
“It should be, shouldn’t it?”
A small smile returns to his face. “But you don’t feel like it is anymore.”
I rest my chin in my upturned palm and flash him a coy grin. “Apparently I’m not one for self-preservation either.”
His arm slips across the back of the seat, and his voice dips lower as he says, “I can promise you one thing though.”
He sounds terribly serious, but all I can think about is that I like the way it feels to be tucked against him like this. Tipping my face up, I give him a timid smile. “What’s that?”
His free hand reaches for my forehead, gently pushing my bangs over to my temple. “Whatever happens between Ellicottville and me, your preservation is a top priority for me.” His knuckle grazes the corner of my eyebrow, down to my cheekbone, and curls along my jaw.
My breath hitches, earning a tug at his lips. “Jake?” I rasp as his hand trails down my arm and stays at my wrist. All my attention settles on the heat radiating off his body and the tiny lines his thumb is tracing over my skin. I wonder if he can feel the way my pulse flutters at his touch.
“Lucy,” he whispers, his breath ruffling my hair. I’m not sure how we’ve gotten here, and I don’t care in the slightest. I’m just glad we have.
“What does that mean for you?”
His lets out a low exhale. “Hell if I know.”
I flinch in surprise as lightning cracks across the sky. It’s fitting, really. Because as his thumb continues to trace soft patterns on the inside of my wrist, an electric spark catches between my ribs.
Quietly he adds, “And hell if I care.”
I bite my lip to stop from blurting anything more out. Really, who needs self-preservation anyway?