“It’s like I don’t even know them anymore,” Mac said. “Beekeeping, guitar lessons, poetry slams; I need to call my dad.”
“I, for one, think it’s awesome,” Jillian said.
“Me, too,” Carly agreed. “Way to grab life by the balls.”
“Please do not use that expression in regard to my aunts,” Mac said. Then she shuddered and the other two laughed.
Mac walked her friends to the door and they loitered on the porch chatting for a while when Aunt Sarah came striding up the walk with her guitar in hand. She looked flushed and had a spring in her step that Mac had never seen before. Once again, Aunt Sarah didn’t break her stride as she blew past them on the way inside.
“Night, girls,” she said as the door banged shut behind her.
Mac frowned after her.
“Well, at least someone around here is getting some,” Carly said.
“Ack! Carly, that’s my aunt,” Mac said.
“Yep, and she’s having a helluva lot more fun than us; well, except for maybe you,” she said.
“You have to get out of the underwear industry,” Mac said. “I swear all you see is sex everywhere.”
“Whatever,” Carly said. “I know what I saw.”
“Focus, people,” Jillian said. She looked at Mac. “Since Emma and Brad are meeting with my dad for their final counseling session, this is our last free night on the itinerary. We need to make a plan.”
“To do what?” Carly asked. “She’s already blown the operation. How was the kiss with Gavin anyway?”
“Fine, normal, okay, I guess,” Mac stammered. Her heart was pounding and she could feel a telltale heat creep up her neck into her face.
“Oh, man, that means it was amazeballs,” Carly said to Jillian. “Remind me again, why are we trying to cock block the poor guy?”
“Because Mac has a boyfriend,” Jillian said. She wrinkled her nose, leaving no doubt as to what she thought of Trevor.
“Actually, I don’t, exactly,” Mac said.
“What?” Carly and Jillian cried together.
“But you said . . .” Jillian began but Carly interrupted.
“I knew it!” she crowed. “That night on the green you said ‘we didn’t break up, exactly,’ and I knew something was weird. So, who did the breaking up? You or him? Please tell me it was you.”
“It wasn’t me,” Mac said. “And we’re just taking a break while he’s in London, it’s not even a breakup, really.”
“That prick!” Carly shouted. “How could he? Does he not even realize how lucky he is that you put up with his bullshit?”
“You don’t understand.” Mac pressed her palm to her forehead. She loved her friends, dearly, but this was exactly why she hadn’t told them about taking a break with Trevor.
Both Jillian and Carly just stared at her and she got the feeling that in their minds they understood all too well.
“Wait, if you aren’t technically with Trevor, what is the problem with you and Gavin?” Carly asked.
“The problem is that Gavin is Emma’s little brother,” Mac said. She thought she should get points for not adding “duh” to her comment. “Emma is so protective of him; she’d be so pissed if we hooked up. How could I do that to her?”
“You don’t know that she’d be pissed,” Jillian said. She sounded doubtful but she forged on. “I mean maybe she’d be happy that her brother and her best friend are hooking up.”
“But what if she isn’t?” Mac asked. “Her wedding is in a matter of days. Can I really risk ruining it for her by getting involved with Gavin?”
Both Carly and Jillian looked pensive. Clearly, no one knew how Emma would take it and that proved to Mac that it was definitely not worth the risk.
“All right, I see your point, but I have to ask, what happened after you kissed him?” Carly asked. She looked eager for details.
“He said we were still just friends, that he did it because of Jessie,” Mac said.
“Do you believe him?”
“Yes, mostly,” Mac said.
“Okay, for the next week and a half, you have to maintain the perimeter,” Carly said. “Be friendly but not too friendly, be nice but not too nice, you get the picture.”
“Got it,” Mac said.
“And absolutely no being alone with him, call us for backup,” Jillian said. “Even if it’s awkward—agreed?”
“Agreed,” Mac said.
She hugged her friends and waved as they headed down the driveway. It occurred to her that she hadn’t talked to Trevor since she’d left Chicago. Even though they were technically on a break, that seemed wrong. She went inside to call him but then did a quick time change in her head and calculated it would be the middle of the night in London. She’d call him tomorrow.
She realized she was relieved that she didn’t have to talk to him. Again, that seemed wrong and she wondered if it was guilt about the kiss with Gavin that made her want to avoid Trevor. No, the kiss had been a spontaneous thing done by Gavin to tweak Jessie. It hadn’t meant anything.
Mac pressed her fingertips to her lips. Okay, so it had rocked her world. So what? She had a history with Trevor, a life together in Chicago that she valued. Gavin was still her best friend’s little brother. And while Emma wanted Mac to cheer Gavin up, it was a far cry from what Mac wanted to do to him when she allowed herself to think about it, which was why she didn’t allow it.
She cleared away the plates from the sitting room and tidied the kitchen. As she was climbing the stairs to her bedroom, she thought about the day’s events and knew that her friends were right, the best offense was to keep her distance from Gavin.
Mac knew that if anything more than a spur of the moment smooch happened between them, it would be like letting out a genie that she couldn’t shove back into the bottle. And this genie was a wrathful djinn who would likely destroy Mac’s relationship with her best friend and that was too high of a price to pay no matter how good of a kisser Gavin was. She felt a flash of heat cook her from the inside out. Yeah, it was time for a cold shower.
Mac closed the door to her room and thought about what to say to Trevor when she talked to him. Was she obligated to mention kissing Gavin? She didn’t think so; after all, they were on a break. Besides, she had told Trevor that she was paired with Emma’s little brother for the wedding.
Trevor didn’t know about their past encounter; it hadn’t seemed relevant before, but Mac had confided in him about feeling uneasy about Emma’s request that she bolster her baby brother’s spirits by being his quasi date. Trevor had thought it was hilarious that her role as maid of honor included a babysitting stint. Now she wondered if she should have confided in him more fully. Would he have cared enough to be here? She honestly didn’t know.
Twelve more days. She just had twelve more days until she was back in Chicago, riding the L back to her corporate job in the Loop. Usually, just the thought of riding the elevator to her corner office would have filled Mac with a surge of excitement, but at the moment she wasn’t feeling it. It had to be anxiety, numbing her usual workaholic buzz. She just had to get through the wedding without damaging any of her relationships and all would be well.
She flopped onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling. Surely, she could manage that. Right?
• • •
Mac was running late. She hadn’t been able to sleep and when she finally did, her dreams had been full of naughty images of Gavin that made her feel hot and dirty at the same time. Clearly, she was losing her mind.
She threw back a cup of cold coffee and grabbed a granola bar out of the pantry. She had promised to meet Emma at the hairdresser’s on Main Street to help Emma pick the hairstyle that would go best with her veil. Jillian was working in her bakery so it was left to Carly and Mac to help Emma. Because Carly tended to like extreme styles, Emma was counting on Ma
c to be the voice of reason.
“You look terrible,” Aunt Sarah said as Mac banged out of the front door. Sarah was reading the paper and enjoying her coffee while relaxing on the porch swing.
“Thanks,” Mac said. “I was going for awful, but terrible works.”
“Again with the sass.” Aunt Sarah tutted. “Slow down before you trip and break your neck.”
Mac paused to tug on her tennis shoes. “I have a feeling a broken neck is the only excuse that will be accepted if I am late for Emma’s hair appointment.”
“Well, you won’t be of much use to her if you’re damaged,” Aunt Charlotte said.
Mac wanted to ask them both about their evenings out, but then she thought about what they might share and realized, no, she didn’t. With a wave, she bolted down the steps to the driveway.
She shoved the granola bar in her bag and hurried down the street. She knew the hairdresser’s was on the far side of the town square, so she took a shortcut in between two houses that led to an alley that would cut her trip in half.
Mac turned into the alley and was striding quickly down the uneven pavement when she heard a fierce growl that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She stopped and slowly turned to her right.
There, behind a Dumpster next to the shattered remains of what looked like several pots of tulips, was a brown dog, baring its teeth and looking like it wanted to rip Mac’s throat out.
Chapter 12
“Easy, boy,” Mac said. Her heart thumped hard in her chest and she glanced at the end of the alley to determine if she could escape if she ran. She had visions of trying and having the dog chase her down and clamp its powerful jaws on her leg or her throat. She’d never make it.
She glanced back at the dog. It growled, keeping low to the ground. Only its big, blocky head was visible from its spot behind the Dumpster, and she couldn’t tell how big the dog actually was except that it definitely wouldn’t fit in her purse and that was saying something. Oh, man. Why couldn’t she be snarled at by a Yorkie or a Shih Tzu?
She took a cautious step away and the dog growled, deeper and meaner. Then Mac heard a thumping sound. The dog crept forward and she noticed it was brown and black with a white chest. Was it wagging its tail? What was that supposed to mean?
Mac had never had a dog for a pet. Growing up she’d had a cat, an orange tabby named Chubby who lived happily in the family home for seventeen years. When he’d died, she knew she could never love another pet as much as him so she’d never gotten another.
With her limited knowledge base on canines, she knew that growling was bad but wagging was good. Or so she thought. Maybe the dog was wagging because he planned to make her his lunch. Yeah, that settled it. Mac took another step away. The dog growled and it rumbled low and deep from its chest.
Okay, so the stepping away thing wasn’t really working for the dog. She stood still and studied the face staring at her from its hiding spot. One of its ears flopped down across its head and Mac recognized the puppy she had seen in Emma’s backyard.
“Oh, hey, I know you,” she said. The dog wagged, thumping its tail against the side of the Dumpster. “Are you all right?”
The dog whimpered and she felt her heart clutch in her chest; maybe the poor guy was hurt.
“Listen, I don’t speak dog,” Mac said. She knew she sounded nervous and she suspected that was bad form. She glanced around her, looking for anyone to help. There was no one, just her, the dog, and a bunch of smashed tulips.
Mac took a deep breath and willed herself to calm down. If animals could sense fear then she needed to get a grip on hers. She noticed the dog hadn’t moved. Maybe it was injured. She had to get a better look. She slowly crouched down, watching how it reacted to her.
“It’s okay,” she said. She kept her voice soft and kind, hoping the dog could sense she meant no harm. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
The dog whimpered and then wagged. Mac studied the dog’s face. Despite the very canine teeth, the dog had pretty brown eyes, a stubby black nose, and now that Mac was close enough, she could see the faint black stripes in its brown fur, making it a brindle. It also had a collar. Excellent.
If it had an owner, it could be friendly. Mac wondered how long it had been in the alley; maybe it had been lost since she’d seen it at Emma’s. No, wait. Her memory clicked and she remembered seeing the dog in the horse field on the very day she had arrived in town.
Mercy! Had the poor thing been lost all this time? It was probably starving. She wished she had a dog treat, but then she remembered her granola bar. Maybe some food would make the dog trust her enough to come out from behind the Dumpster.
She carefully reached into her purse and pulled out the granola bar. She took off the wrapper and noticed that the dog never looked away from her.
“Are you hungry?” she asked. “It probably tastes like rocks and sticks to you, but it is food, I swear.”
Mac held out her hand with a bit of the granola bar in it. The dog stared at her. She moved closer and the dog lowered itself to the ground, making Mac tense up, and then it wagged.
“You’re really giving me mixed signals here,” Mac said.
She inched closer, stopping a couple of feet short of reaching the dog. She didn’t know what she’d do if the dog attacked her at this point. Die, she supposed. With that in mind, she redoubled her effort to get the dog to trust her.
“I promise I’m not going to hurt you,” she said softly. She kept her hand steady, holding the food out. “I just want to make sure you’re okay and I’ll try and get you back to your people. I won’t hurt you. I promise. You’re going to be okay.”
Mac’s legs were beginning to cramp and she was sure she and the dog were going to be in this stalemate until nightfall when the dog moved. It belly crawled toward her just a few inches and stopped.
“Good dog,” Mac said. “That’s right. You can trust me. Come on. It’ll be okay.”
The dog crawled forward again, stopping just in front of Mac’s hand. Mac waited and watched. The dog’s tail was still wagging and its ears were flopped to one side. The warm brown eyes never left Mac’s face. She really wished she could tell what the puppy was thinking.
She swallowed, trying to stay calm while waiting to see what the dog would do. To Mac’s surprise, the dog nudged the granola bar aside with its cold nose and pressed the top of its head into the palm of her hand.
“Oh,” Mac said softly.
The dog’s head felt like warm velvet beneath her fingers and it looked up at Mac from beneath her hand with big brown eyes that seemed to have witnessed a world of hurt.
“It’s okay, baby,” Mac said. “You’re going to be okay.”
The dog made a deep shuddering sigh as if it was psyching itself up for something, then it cautiously climbed into Mac’s lap. The dog’s posture was rigid as if bracing for rejection. There was no question it was taking a huge leap of faith in trusting her. Mac felt her throat get tight and as she looked into the dog’s earnest face, she could see the pretty eyes imploring, Please don’t hurt me!
“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Mac said. She cautiously hugged the dog close until she felt it relax against her. She gently stroked the dog’s side, giving it a minute to adjust to her. When Mac glanced down at the dog in her arms, its pink tongue flicked out and caught Mac on the chin. Mac smiled as she wiped the spit away.
Okay, now what? Mac carefully checked its collar for tags. Naturally, there were none. She did a mental assessment of what she had in her purse. Amazingly, there was nothing she could use as a leash. She didn’t want to risk losing the dog, or worse, having it run out into traffic, so she figured she’d have to carry it.
Mac hefted the dog and her bag up into her arms. The dog had to be a solid twenty-five pounds but it let Mac lift it without protest. Great.
Mac glanced down at the
end of the alley. Gavin’s veterinary clinic was one street over from here. Surely, she could make it there, and with any luck at all it would be Dr. Scharff on duty and not Gavin. Mac supposed she could turn around and take the dog home, but if anyone would know who it—she glanced down at the dog—okay, who she belonged to, it would be Gavin or Dr. Scharff.
By the time she got to the office, her arms were shaking and she was afraid she was going to drop the dog. Mercifully, the automatic door slid open when Mac stepped onto the mat and she entered the waiting room, which was empty.
She passed several chairs and approached the high counter at the end of the room. She couldn’t see anyone behind it, but she forged on.
“Hello?” she cried.
A gentle snore was the only answer she got. Huh?
The counter was wide so Mac used it to set down the dog, who immediately leaned into her. Mac wrapped her arms around her so she would feel secure.
“Hello?” Mac called again.
She glanced over the counter and found Gavin, dead asleep on the desktop in front of him. He’d made a pillow out of his arms and his pale brown hair flopped over his forehead. His lips were slightly parted and Mac thought she spotted a tiny bit of drool in the corner of his mouth. He was snoring very quietly. His face was relaxed in sleep, making him look like the innocent little boy she had once known.
She figured the Peaberry’s goat had kidded in the wee hours of the morning as Gavin had predicted. Mac didn’t want to wake him. She wondered if she should just take a seat and let him have his power nap.
A sudden shrill chime sounded from her bag, making Mac jump, the dog growl, and Gavin snap awake all at the same time.
“Sorry,” Mac cried. “I’m sorry.”
“Huh, what?” Gavin blinked at her. “Mac? A dog? Am I still dreaming?”
“No,” Mac said. She kept one arm around the dog while she searched her bag for her phone. She grabbed it and held it up to her ear. “What?”
About a Dog Page 10