pushed herself away from the counter. “You should go now, Ethan.”
He took a step closer. “If you need me to …”
“I don’t,” she said, almost yelling as she backed into the kitchen sink. She closed her eyes for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was calm, her gaze emotionless. “I don’t need anything from you.”
Her words poured over his head like a bucket of cold water. He turned away. “I guess some things never change,” he called over his shoulder, “because the way I remember it, you never did.”
He slammed the door behind him and stalked down the stairs, pausing at the bottom when he heard something clatter against the kitchen wall.
He wanted to charge back up the steps but knew whatever had smashed into the wall had clearly been meant for his head.
She didn’t need him, he repeated. How long would it take before he’d finally be clear on that? Ten years ago, he’d offered her everything he had: his heart, his name, the rest of his life. She’d thrown it all back in his face, walked away without even a goodbye.
He headed across the driveway to his truck. Vera told him the universe makes you repeat your mistakes until you get them right. If that was the case, this summer was bound to be the biggest lesson of his life.
Chapter Three
Lainey rapped her fist against the door a second time. “Come on. I know you’re in there.” She glanced at the Land Cruiser, running her fingers through her tangled mess of hair. Her mother had told her Ethan was staying at the clinic, and she didn’t know where else to go.
She turned back when the door opened. Ethan stood in the doorway, the house dark behind him. He wore a pair of faded cargo shorts and nothing else. She blinked, momentarily distracted by his bare chest and the muscles corded along his stomach, disappearing beneath the waistband of his shorts.
If there’d been any doubt, she now knew for certain the boy she remembered was long gone. From the shadow of stubble that covered his jaw to the powerful arms, Ethan’s body was one hundred percent man.
He squinted against the morning light peeking through the surrounding trees. “Lainey?” His voice was rough with sleep.
“I need you,” she began then realized how stupid she sounded after last night.
A look of disbelief flashed in his eyes before his gaze darkened. “That was quick.” He leaned against the doorjamb. “I get it because you’re only human and all. But there is no way—”
“Not like that. It’s Pita.”
He straightened. “What happened?” he asked, all business.
“She didn’t eat last night or this morning—” Lainey worked to keep the panic out of her voice. “She threw up then had an accident in the middle of the night. There was blood in it … more this morning.” Tears clogged her throat. “She’s bleeding, Ethan.”
He wrapped his big hands around hers, using his thumbs to pry apart her clenched fists and rub her palms. “It’s okay,” he said, his gaze never leaving her face. “I’ll take a look at her.”
“I don’t know anything about her, her history or age. I don’t even know if she’s been fixed.” Her voice trembled and he squeezed her hands harder. “She isn’t really mine …”
She knew she was overreacting but couldn’t stop it. She’d compartmentalized her own pain, avoided any connections that might lead to more hurt all the while telling herself she was okay. The past was in the past. But she wasn’t healed emotionally and her irrational fear over the dog made her wonder if she ever would be. “What if she’s pregnant and …” Her voice trailed off. “There’s a lot of blood.”
He drew her into a tight hug. “We’ll take care of her.”
Lainey wanted to pull away but pressed her cheek into the crook of his neck. His skin was warm, and the hair on his chest tickled her face. He smelled like sleep, soap and the spicy male scent that was intrinsically him—a scent that hadn’t changed in ten years.
He kept his hands on her, running his palms along her bare arms, looking deep into her eyes. “Are you okay?”
Lainey wiped the back of her hand across her nose and nodded. “I’m fine,” she said around a hiccup.
“Uh-huh.” He cocked his head to one side and studied her.
“Really, I am.” She didn’t want this. Hated feeling so exposed, like he could see into the depths of her soul.
He looked unconvinced. “Let’s get to it then.”
It wasn’t even 7:00 a.m., but Lainey guessed the temperature had already climbed past eighty degrees. Still her skin felt impossibly cold when he let her go. He disappeared into the house for a moment then stepped back onto the porch in a wrinkled polo shirt.
She led him around the SUV. The hatch was already open. The dog lay on a makeshift bed of blankets Lainey had piled into the cargo area.
“Hey there,” Ethan cooed. Pita lifted her head in response. Her tail thumped once, but she didn’t jump up. After a moment she pressed her face into the towel and whined.
“Hold her still.”
Lainey positioned her hands on the side of the dog’s head. Pita yelped when Ethan pushed his fingers into her belly. Her large brown eyes found Lainey’s.
“It’s all right,” Lainey whispered. “You are going to be just fine, my sweet pain in the ass.”
Ethan’s hands paused.
“Pita.” She huffed out a breath. “Pain in the ass.”
One side of his mouth kicked up as he moved his fingers along the dog’s abdomen. “Cute.”
Lainey couldn’t pin her hopes on this man. His rejection ten years ago had burned so badly she’d sworn never to give herself like that again to anyone. She’d spent a long time getting Ethan out of her system, remaking herself from the love-struck girl who’d literally fallen at his feet to an independent woman who didn’t need anyone—any man—to rescue her.
“What’s going on with her? Will she …”
“I need to take X-rays. It feels like there’s a blockage. Probably something she ate.”
Lainey’s fingers flew to her mouth. “Oh, no. The hamburger.” She bent forward to kiss the dog’s head. “I’m so sorry.”
“It wasn’t the hamburger.” He leveled a serious look at her. “This isn’t your fault. Animals eat things they shouldn’t. Keeps me in business most weeks. With any luck she’ll be back to normal in a day or so.”
“So she’s not …”
“She’s not pregnant, Lainey.”
Relief
