The Puppy Problem

by Katie Meyer

  “Well, why don’t you go put on your pajamas while I let him in?”

  Owen looked down in surprise, as if only now realizing his state of undress. “Okay. But tell him not to leave.”

  She shook her head, marveling at the change in Owen since the school year had started. She had Luke and his decision to allow Lily in the classroom to thank for much of that. However, after what Cassie had just shared, she wasn’t feeling all that thankful.

  Opening the door, she noticed the strain around his eyes that said he knew something was wrong. The question was, had he simply heard the rumor or had he started it? Mindful of Owen, she held off asking right away and instead simply stood aside, giving him space to enter without overtly inviting him in.

  “I hope it’s okay I came so early.” Luke cast his eyes around the room, as if looking for something to focus on other than her face. “I wanted to talk to you before—”

  “I heard about us attending the banquet together?” Her heart sank even as her anger rose. “I’m afraid you’re too late. Cassie called and told me.”

  “Well, hell.”

  “You’re not supposed to say that. It’s a bad word.” Owen, now fully clothed, frowned at Luke. “You need to say you’re sorry.”

  Luke looked so uncomfortable, Megan almost, but not quite, felt sorry for him.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He turned to Megan and his tone softened. “I really am sorry. Can you forgive me?”

  “Sure!”

  Owen’s easy absolution brought a slight smile to Luke’s mouth, but it vanished when he saw that Megan wasn’t going to be so quick to pardon him. Not until she had some idea of what on earth it was that he had done, and how on earth she was going to control the damage. From the guilt written in the lines of his face, he had more to confess, and she wanted to hear everything before she could even consider absolution.

  * * *

  Luke waited, breath held, for Megan to say something. To give him some hope that he hadn’t lost her trust totally. Instead, she addressed Owen, reminding him that it was bedtime.

  “I want Dr. Wright to tuck me in.”

  “What?” Megan’s shocked question echoed through the small house, but Owen wasn’t deterred.

  “Please?” He took hold of Luke’s hand and pulled, attempting to tug him toward the hall.

  Helpless, the boy’s small fingers locked around his own, Luke looked to Megan for permission. She was already mad at him for overstepping, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell the kid no.

  She met his silent entreaty with a sad, nearly wistful smile. “Fine. But be quick about it. One story—no more.” Meeting Luke’s eyes, she added, “I’m serious. He’ll try to talk you into half a dozen if you aren’t careful.”

  Nodding in acknowledgment, he let Owen lead him to his bedroom. Stacks of books about dinosaurs, wild animals, and, of course, sharks, covered the top of a sturdy chest of drawers. Fiction was notably absent, leaving Luke wondering exactly what kind of bedtime story Owen expected him to read.

  “So, which one?” He scanned the titles. The first one—What Happened to the Dinosaurs—seemed a bit ominous for bedtime. He didn’t want to give the kid nightmares about mass extinction. Fish Species of the Florida Coast sounded safe, if a bit dry. He turned, holding it up for approval.

  “Not those books,” Owen admonished from his spot on the bed. “Those are for research. My regular stuff is over here.”

  “Ah, of course.” Because every first-grader kept a stack of research materials. Shaking his head, Luke put the book back and crossed to the nightstand where another, smaller pile of paperbacks vied for space with a startlingly realistic-looking owl lamp.

  Picking one that looked familiar, he eased onto the bed. Immediately the boy scooted closer, wiggling into a comfortable position. Comfortable for the boy anyway. Luke’s arm was going to be numb with Owen’s head pressed against it and he wasn’t sure how he would manage holding the book and turning the pages one-handed.

  As it turned out, Owen handled the page turning, and they finished the book without Luke suffering any permanent nerve damage. And if he had, it might have been worth it. He’d read to kids hundreds of times in his career, but sitting in front of a classroom was nothing like having a child snuggled peacefully against you. The tension that had gripped him since the encounter with Liz Robins had all but vanished. This was special, and he was smart enough to know it.

  If things worked out with Megan, would he do this every night? The thought was dizzying. But he couldn’t let himself think in that direction. Not yet. Given the welcome he’d received, he was more likely to be kicked to the curb than to ever be a part of this family.

  Until and unless he got Megan to agree to a real relationship, Luke couldn’t even pretend they had a future.

  Pushing that grim thought aside, he returned the book to the nightstand. “Good night, buddy.”

  Owen blinked sleepy eyes. “G’night. I liked you reading to me.”

  Luke swallowed hard. “I liked it, too.”

  Once alone in the hall, he stopped to gather his thoughts. Today had been a runaway train of emotion, and this evening’s conversation with Megan had the potential to send it right off the tracks. His only hope was to keep himself calm, to let her vent the anger she had every right to feel, and to pray she’d be willing to give him a second chance.

  He found her in the kitchen standing over an open first-aid kit. “What are you doing?”

  Her answer, as she struggled to bandage her own hand, was muffled by a length of medical tape held between her teeth. Probably for the best, as the one word he did make out was the type to earn one of his students a week of detention.

  “I probably deserved that, but if you let me help you, I promise you can yell at me afterward, okay?” He gently pulled the tape from her mouth and examined the makeshift bandage. “What happened anyway?”

  Glaring, she gestured with her uninjured hand at a pile of pottery pieces on the floor. “If you must know, I was washing the dishes when Cassie called to inform me that I was attending the Scholar’s Banquet with you. Given that I hadn’t agreed to any such thing, and our agreement to keep things private, I was a bit surprised. I dropped a plate and cut my hand cleaning it up.”

  Her tone made it clear that the injury was his fault, which, given the circumstances, was probably accurate.

  “All the more reason to let me help, right?”

  She didn’t answer, but let him unwind the tangled tape and gauze without objection. Perhaps she realized that seeing her hurting from an injury he’d caused, however indirectly, was punishment enough. Fresh guilt rose like ire in his throat at the sight of ragged wound, not just for the injury, which thankfully was superficial, but for the much deeper pain he knew he’d caused. Flesh healed swiftly; hearts were more delicate.

  When he’d finished, he grabbed the broom and swept up the broken pottery while she stood and watched, her expression blank.

  “You seem to be making a habit of this, you know.”

  He dumped the dustpan into the trash and set the broom back in the corner, trying to figure out her meaning. He’d screwed up plenty in his life, but his mistakes with Megan seemed to be uncharted territory, each one a new way to mess things up. “How so?”

  She nodded at the broom. “Sweeping up my messes. You cleaned up broken glass the first time you came here.”

  “Oh.” He smiled, remembering how flustered she’d been that day. It seemed a lifetime ago, and yet, in so many ways, they’d made very little progress. He was still trying to find the line between too much involvement and not enough, and he was damned tired of it. But what other choice did he have? Maybe this mistake, as badly as he felt about it, was really their chance to make a real move forward.

  Or maybe it was the last stop on what had always been a dead-end journey.

  * * *<
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  Megan hated that such a simple thing like sweeping up broken glass could soften her anger so quickly. She needed to be strong for this conversation, and swooning over a man doing household chores wasn’t going to help. She wanted answers, not a cleaning service. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  He shook his head. “It was the least I could do, after everything.”

  “No argument there.” Maybe he was just doing it out of guilt, not natural chivalry. Still, that he would instinctively step in to help had to be an indication of his character, right? He’d done exactly that from the beginning. That kind of behavior matched with who she’d thought he was...at least until tonight. Now? She wasn’t so sure. And worse, she wasn’t certain she wanted to find out. Not if the truth was ugly. Hadn’t she had enough ugliness to last a lifetime already?

  But even if ignorance was bliss, and she wasn’t naïve enough to believe it was, there was no ignoring Luke Wright. He took up to much space—in her kitchen and in her heart.

  “Can I explain?”

  “I sure hope so.” He’d stayed on the far side of the room, as if afraid to move for fear of raising her wrath. Smart man. But she’d been on her feet all evening, so she motioned him to the table. Whatever he had to say might hurt, but her feet didn’t have to.

  He sat across from her, his hands flat on the table in front of him as if he were bracing for something. Probably her reaction. “I want to start by saying I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  “For what to happen?” No way was she letting him off the hook that easily. She couldn’t accept his apology without knowing what it was he was apologizing for.

  “For telling Liz Robins that you were my date for the banquet.”

  She’d been expecting them, but hearing the words still shook her. Swallowing hard, she asked the next obvious question. “Why?”

  “Because she wanted me to take her, and there was no way that was happening.” He grimaced and, for a small, petty moment, she gloated at his obvious lack of interest in the attractive woman. “The only way I could think to put her off was to say I already had a date. But then she wanted to know who it was.”

  “And you said me.”

  “What else was I supposed to do?” He leaned in, frustration deepening the lines around his eyes. “Say some other woman and have you think I was dating someone else?”

  The heated anger that had been building since she’d spoken to Cassie dropped a few degrees. As bad as this was, hearing that he was involved with another woman would have been worse. Just knowing someone was hitting on him had jealousy twisting her insides—which was ridiculous. She couldn’t insist they keep their relationship a secret and then get upset that people thought he was available. She was like a dog who wasn’t sure he wanted a bone, but didn’t want anyone else to have it, either. Luke was a good-looking man, and because of her insistence on secrecy, as far as anyone knew, he was available.

  Logical, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. “You could have just made someone up.”

  He rolled his eyes. “A mystery woman? Even if she’d been willing to believe there was a new person in town she hadn’t met or heard of yet, as soon as Liz Robins and her gossip buddies started digging, they’d have realized the truth. Aside from being pointless, lying to a parent isn’t exactly a great career move.”

  “And dating a parent is?”

  He shrugged. “Since she’d just asked me out, she’d have been pretty hypocritical to make a fuss about that.”

  Out of arguments, Megan fell silent, the ticking of the old kitchen wall clock and Lily’s soft snores the only sounds. Before Luke, the quiet of the night had been the hardest time for her. Did she want to send him away and go back to that?

  As if directed by her thoughts, Luke stood. “I’ll go, and let you think things over.”

  He was being a gentleman, as always. Giving her the space she kept saying she wanted. And yet something told her that if she let him walk out now, he wouldn’t be back. That one thought cut through the noise in her head. She may not have everything figured out, but her gut said letting him go would be a mistake she’d always regret.

  The realization made her bold. Standing, she stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “I thought you said I should stop overthinking everything.”

  His slow, sexy smile had her bare toes curling into the worn linoleum. “I did. But I wasn’t sure you could.”

  “I’m trying.” She stretched her arms up, wrapping them around his neck as she leaned into him. “Maybe you could help find a way to distract me.”

  Heat flashed in his eyes, and she tingled in anticipation. But then, instead of pulling her closer, he stepped back. “No.”

  “What?” He was rejecting her? “I thought this was what you wanted?”

  “Oh, I definitely want you,” he rasped, his expression nearly feral. “But taking you to bed right now isn’t going to fix this.”

  A lump formed somewhere behind her breastbone, making it hard to breathe. “I don’t know what you want, Luke.”

  “You. I want you, Megan.”

  Confusion fed her frustration. “So take me!” They were speaking in circles, and she was too tired to see a way out.

  Again, he shook his head. “This isn’t about sex. As awesome as that is, it isn’t enough, not anymore.” He took a breath, and she held hers, not sure she was ready to hear whatever came next.

  “I’m not asking you to promise forever. But if you won’t even risk being seen in public with me, if you aren’t going to give a real relationship a chance, then there’s no point to any of this.”

  “Is that an ultimatum?”

  He shrugged, but the movement was stiff. “Call it what you want. But if you don’t want to move forward, then I need to move on.”

  * * *

  Luke watched Megan digest his challenge and wondered for the thousandth time what the hell was wrong with him. He had a gorgeous, smart, funny, sexy woman who wanted to have sex with him on a regular basis, and he was messing it up for what? To take her to a fundraising banquet in the school auditorium? So he could hold her hand in public when he already had her naked in his arms in private?

  Still, even as he mentally prepared himself to walk away, he knew he was doing the only thing he could. Yes, they had a good thing going here, but he didn’t want to settle when he knew it could be better than good. They could be great—if only she’d just trust him enough to try.

  Seconds passed. He tried to read her face but her expression had frozen. Whatever reaction he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that.

  “Megan, whatever you’re thinking, just say it.”

  She blinked twice, fast, as if his voice had startled her out of whatever inner conversation she’d been having, then nodded once. “Okay.”

  “Okay, what?” Was she agreeing to a more serious relationship or agreeing to end it?

  “Okay, I’ll be your girlfriend. Or whatever they are calling it these days.”

  Air whooshed out of him, the sudden deflation leaving him light-headed for a second. Or maybe that was euphoria he was feeling. Like a runner’s high but way better. Adrenaline was a funny thing—you never noticed how much was pumping through your veins until it was gone. “You can call it whatever you want,” he assured her.

  A playful smile danced at the corners of her mouth. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

  “We still get to have sex, right?” he teased, reaching for her.

  She melted into his arms, her body molding against his as if she’d been made to fit him. “We’d better, or I’m going to change my mind.”

  “Well, we can’t have that,” he murmured into her neck, greedily inhaling the sweet scent of her skin. She arched, giving him better access, and he happily complied with the unspoken request, trailing kisses up to the sensitive spot behind her ear. When he nipp
ed at the delicate lobe, she moaned, the sound triggering an instant reaction from his body. “Bedroom,” she ordered breathlessly, tugging at his belt buckle. “Now.”

  He had better things to do with his mouth than answer, so he allowed her to pull him along as she backed toward the hallway. With each step, he teased and tasted her, moving ever so slowly along the deep V of her shirt, stopping only when they reached the safety of her room. There, he released her long enough to turn and lock the door. When he looked back she was already half naked, her shirt and bra tossed to the floor.

  “You are so beautiful.”

  She shook her head at the compliment, one hand coming up to cover her bare chest.

  “Beautiful,” he insisted, taking her hand in his. Gently, he brushed their joined fingers across the rise and fall of her breasts as he uncovered her. “Just looking at you makes me ache. Seeing you like this...” He dipped down and sucked a rose-colored nipple into his mouth for a brief taste before continuing. “Makes me hot.” He knew she was self-conscious about her body and the changes from childbearing, but all he saw was perfection. Softness where there should be softness. Also strength. She might not believe his words, but there were other, more primal ways to communicate how he felt about her. And he was willing to spend as long as it took to make sure she got the message.

  Dropping her hand, he quickly stripped. He didn’t want to let go for even that long, but once he had her naked, he wasn’t going to want to stop for anything. She must have been feeling the same way because she was already nude by the time he kicked the last of his clothes away.

  He paused only long enough to grab a condom from the wallet he’d tossed on the nightstand before pulling her to him and onto the bed. She landed on top, straddling him.