Chapter 52
Chapter fifty-two
Christianna
Today has been a whirlwind. Everything is signed, and Brittany has left us with the keys.
I stand in the middle of the house, looking around in disbelief. I have a house. A mini mansion, really, but somehow still homey.
“Meg,” I say, “in all this furniture talk… where do you want to put your stuff?”
“Would you mind if I took the pool house?” she asks. “It’s plenty for me, and I can wander in to use the kitchen or hang out at night.”
My chest tightens. “You can have the third floor if you want. Or the big…”
“No,” she interrupts gently. “This is perfect. And it saves me from stairs.” She smiles. “It also gives you privacy, if you want it.”
I start to protest, but my stomach growls loudly, traitorously.
Remy lifts his brows. “The backyard has a patio set. It’s nice tonight. Why don’t I order pizza and we eat outside?”
I glance at him, uncertain. So much has happened today, so fast, and we have not talked. Not really.
“What toppings do you like?” he asks, hopeful.
“Anything but fish or olives.”
“Meg?”
“Same. I’ll pick things off if I need to. Oh, no pineapple either.”
“Done.” He checks his phone. “Forty minutes. Erik is in the backyard, I think.”
I head outside and am greeted by a low woof.
A white and gray dog barrels toward me.
“Oh,” I laugh, dropping to my knees as he crashes into my arms and starts licking any available skin. A soft whine follows, and I see a red dog approaching more carefully, tail wagging low, crab-walking sideways as if unsure he’s welcome.
“Well hello, baby,” I croon.
The slightly smaller dog nudges between us, determined to claim space. I laugh, talking nonsense as both dogs crowd into my lap, warm and solid and very real.
“Aren’t you the sweetest babies,” I murmur.
And just like that, they claim me.
I look up to see Erik walking toward me, leashes looped neatly in one hand.
“How?” I ask, breathless, still half buried in dogs.
Remy comes to stand beside him. “We intended to get you one dog. A rescue.”
Erik nods once. “But Dewdrop,” he says, indicating the red one, “could not function without Raindrop.”
The white and gray dog presses closer, tail wagging hard enough to thump my leg. Dewdrop is quivering but burrows in nonetheless.
“So,” Erik continues, tone utterly reasonable, “we got both.”
My throat tightens before I can stop it.
Both dogs settle against me like they’ve always belonged here.