Chapter 5 #2
I slept like shit, which I decided to blame on the dog’s snoring, even though I could have taken him downstairs to his cage at any point.
Instead, I’d lain awake staring at the ceiling, tired as hell but unable to stop my thoughts from racing.
And they’d raced to some shitty places, like compulsively going over every fault of mine in my relationship with Patrick and all the way back to the humiliation I’d felt in third grade when the whole class had heard me accidentally call the teacher Mom.
When daylight finally arrived, my eyes were scratchy from lack of sleep, and I was hoping breakfast and some Advil would get rid of the headache that was beginning to make itself known right behind my eyes.
I was still in my sleep pants and T-shirt when Cash knocked on the front door.
“Don’t you sleep?” I asked him when I opened it.
He gave me a careful look, as though he was judging my mood.
Between him now and the cowering dog yesterday, I figured there was a better than average chance I was coming off as an asshole in my daily life.
Then he shrugged and smiled and shoved a coffee into my hands.
I took it gratefully. He darted past me and the dog met him in the hallway, wriggling with excitement.
Cash headed out into the backyard with him and I followed as far as the door, the coffee warming my hands.
The dog went and peed in three different spots, then took a massive shit in the corner.
Cash crouched down and clicked his tongue, and the dog trotted over to him and dropped to the ground.
Then the dog rolled over, presenting his belly and wriggling.
Cash beamed as he petted the dog’s stomach before scritching under his chin where the E-collar was resting.
His hand stilled, and he gave me a quizzical look, his smile fading.
“What is it?” I called from the back steps before remembering that he probably wouldn’t answer me. I took a sip of coffee then went out into the yard and crouched next to him.
“He’s all tangled,” Cash whispered. His brow creased with worry. “Will you have to shave him?”
I sighed and remembered that past me had been too busy to deal with the dog’s coat, which meant it was a problem for present me. “No, they’ll brush out,” I said. “I was planning on tackling them tonight.”
The look Cash gave me told me he didn’t quite believe me, but he didn’t say anything else.
Of course he didn’t. He just took the dog into the kitchen and fed him, then put his earbuds in and started on the laundry.
I put the dog in his cage while I went upstairs and showered, then spent far too long sitting on the side of my bed staring at the wall and questioning all my life choices.
It was only when I noticed the time and realized I’d been sitting there zoned out for almost an hour that I managed to muster up the ability to move.
When I got downstairs, I could hear the dryer rumbling quietly in the background, and the smell of disinfectant was sharp in the air.
I stuck my head in the treatment room, looking for Cash.
The room was clean and ready to go, but there was no sign of him.
I wondered if he’d left without telling me and felt an unexpected pang of disappointment.
I hadn’t even thanked him for the coffee.
But then I heard noises coming from the kennel room.
Cash was sitting in front of the dog’s cage, and I stood in the doorway and watched as he fed bits of kibble through the wire and murmured softly.
I couldn’t quite catch what he was saying, but his voice was low and soothing, and for a split second I was actually jealous.
What wouldn’t I give for someone who would talk to me like that on the nights when my brain wouldn’t shut off.
I took a step into the room, my sneakers squeaking on the freshly mopped linoleum. Cash spun around, eyes wide, and his entire body tensed. Then he saw it was me and his shoulders dropped back down and he gave a sheepish smile.
“Hey,” I said. “Done for today?”
Cash nodded, and the dog’s tail thwacked against the floor of his cage in a staccato beat. Cash rose to his feet, then glanced at the dog, then at my shoes, then at the dog again. His brow creased, and he cleared his throat.
“It’s my day off,” he whispered, so faintly I had to strain to hear him. He turned his gaze back to the floor, fiddling with the kibble in his palm, before straightening up and looking me in the eye. When he spoke again, it was louder. “I was thinking I could stay and brush the dog’s coat out?”
It was the most I’d ever heard him say at once. He must have really wanted this to use that many words.
Something small and warm unfurled in my chest at the thought of spending more time with Cash. Besides, who could say no to those wide brown eyes of his? Cash had the same goddamn magical powers as the dog.
“Sure,” I said. “Tell you what, how about you give him the full spa treatment? You need help setting up the tub?”
Cash’s entire face lit up with a grin. “Hear that, dog?” he whispered, crouching next to the cage. “Gonna make you feel so good, boy.”
And damned if knowing I was responsible for that sunshine smile didn’t make me feel good too.
We took the dog through to the laundry room and I removed his E-collar while Cash held him to stop him from wriggling too much. Which was a fool’s errand, of course. Nothing could stop him.
I got the trough out of the storeroom and dragged it into the laundry.
I showed Cash how to fill it up and found him some dog shampoo.
I left him reading the instructions with such a serious expression that he might have been learning how to dismantle a bomb instead of washing a dog and went and made myself a bowl of cereal.
I wasn’t hungry, but if I didn’t eat now, I might not get another chance.
Kayla breezed into the kitchen while I was eating.
“Morning,” she said, putting her lunch into the refrigerator. “Why is Cash filling the trough?”
I hummed around a mouthful of cereal, then said, “He’s gonna bathe and brush out the dog.”
“Good,” she said. Her tone made it clear that she approved, and I relaxed a little.
I’d felt her silent judgment at the state of the dog’s coat.
Like every vet tech I’d ever met, Kayla had strong opinions.
And sure, I might be the one with my name on the front door—well, not this front door, which had Uncle Jim’s name instead—but we both knew it was Kayla who kept the practice running.
And my time here would be a hell of a lot easier if I stayed on her good side.
The phone started ringing even though we weren’t open yet, and Kayla rolled her eyes before striding briskly out to reception and answering the call. I heard her explaining to the caller that no, we weren’t open and whoever it was couldn’t just pop on by.
I stood and rolled my shoulders and then went to check on Cash.
I opened the door to the laundry, half expecting chaos.
But instead I was greeted by the sight of Cash calmly bathing the dog, making soothing noises and petting his spine.
He turned the water off, grabbed a towel, and dried the dog. He was careful to avoid his ear.
Once he was done, Cash eased down to the floor, still holding the dog in his lap.
He discarded the towel and reached for the brush, using slow, gentle strokes as he worked and humming a tune I couldn’t quite name.
After a few moments the dog relaxed, resting his chin on Cash’s thigh, and let out a deep sigh of satisfaction.
It didn’t look like he was moving any time soon.
I stood leaning against the counter, and Cash glanced up at me and gave me a shy smile.
He seemed to have everything under control.
He mostly managed to work the brush through the tangles in the dog’s coat without incident, although there were a couple of times the dog tugged away and whined.
When that happened, Cash put the brush down and teased the knots apart with his fingers, waiting patiently until the dog had settled before going back to the brush.
I had plenty of things I should have been doing, but I was apparently as hypnotized by Cash’s slow, careful brushing as the dog was.
I stayed and watched instead, caught by the intent expression on Cash’s face.
There was nothing half-hearted or “good enough” about his efforts.
The dog was the entire focus of his attention, as though the rest of the world had ceased to exist for him.
I wondered fleetingly what it would be like to have that attention focused on me and remembered how good his hug had felt before I pushed the thought away.
Cash was cute, but he’d shown no signs of being interested in me.
It took less time than I thought before Cash was able to run his hands through the dog’s coat. He had a tiny, pleased smile on his face.
“Good job,” I said. “Like, really good.”
Cash looked up, startled, and his smile grew. “Thanks,” he whispered.
He hugged the dog, who clambered up in his lap and licked a stripe up his face. Cash gave a soft laugh and whispered something in the dog’s ear. The dog panted his agreement.
Cash pushed up off the ground and stood, and it was then that I saw how soaked he’d gotten while washing the dog.
His pale gray T-shirt was dark where it was soaked through, and it clung to his chest and biceps.
He was lean without being scrawny, and the wet fabric did nothing to hide the fact.
I could see the planes of his chest and the peaks of his nipples.
If he’d been standing at a car wash with a group of sorority girls with a sponge in one hand and a bucket in the other, I would have paid well over market value to get my car washed.
I must have been staring because Cash raised an eyebrow at me.
“Sorry,” I said. “Just, you’re really wet.”
He shrugged, still grinning, and glanced down as an adorable flush rose on his cheeks.
“I’ve got spare scrubs if you want to change.” I nodded at the stack of scrubs on top of the dryer. “Just grab whatever fits.”
From reception, the phone rang again, and Kayla didn’t answer it. I followed the noise out and saw through the front windows that she was heading for her car. She must have forgotten something.
So it was my turn to tell Mrs. Clayborn that no, we still weren’t open and wouldn’t be until eight, and if it wasn’t an emergency—it never was, with her—she could phone back after that and make an appointment.
She took my refusal well, somehow managing to sound as though she was doing me the favor by agreeing even though it was at great personal inconvenience to her.
Snorting, I headed back to the laundry room.
“I swear, people think business hours are optional,” I said, stepping into the room. And if I’d been planning a follow-up to that, and I wasn’t sure if I was or not, the words died on my lips.
Cash had his shirt off. I’d imagined pale skin, and yeah, there was a lot of that.
But there was something else too, a shadow or a faint stain, that started at his shoulders and extended down his back in splotches of pinkish-brown skin.
It was faded, but there was enough of a contrast with his complexion that it was still noticeable.
Cash froze with a scrub shirt in his hands, and I suddenly knew that the worst thing I could do was ask. So I said, “If it’s too big, I think Kayla has some safety pins.”
I could see the moment that Cash relaxed, just a fractional softening of his posture that relayed his relief.
“And when you’re done with the dog,” I said, ignoring the sudden urge to reach out and touch his skin, to reassure myself that whatever had happened to him a long time ago, he was okay now, “you can do me a favor and fold the towels.”
He nodded and whispered, “Okay.”
And I nodded back and smiled, and we both pretended I hadn’t seen the scars and didn’t know that at one point in his life, probably years ago now, Cash had been badly burned.