His groan is so low, I know I’m not meant to hear his frustration. “Good night, then,” he says.
“Rhett,” I say, stopping him from hanging up. Drawing a deep breath and hopefully some courage, I ask, “I was wondering if you would go with me to Brody and Skye’s reception?”
If smiles had a sound, I’d be hearing his right now. “A. Rose, are you asking me out on a date? Do you know what that means?”
“What does it mean?”
“It means there’s the possibility of a kiss at the end of it.”
I giggle like a little schoolgirl. Before I hang up, I say, “A possibility is not a guarantee.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
I love you. I want you. I need you.
A. Rose
RHETT
I’ve been back in Charleston well over a month now. I’m back to working full days at the vet clinic. All in all, things are good. The adjustment hasn’t been as bad as I once thought it would be. If only I’d made as much progress with Ainsley.
We’re back to walking Sadie together most nights. It’s been weeks and weeks of the same routine. She doesn’t come into my place, and I don’t go into hers. I tell her goodnight at the door, and that’s it. We flirt like it’s an Olympic sport. Sometimes she calls later, and we talk. Usually, she falls asleep. She won’t say it, but I don’t think she sleeps well unless I’m with her in some way. Some nights, like when I have basketball and know I’ll be late, she’s even started keeping Sadie at her place.
She hasn’t missed one of my games, and I’ve spent every all-nighter she pulls in her shop with her. We have all the makings of a relationship, except the physical. I’m beginning to wonder if her hesitation has more to do with my situation than she wants to admit. It’s one thing to be friends with a paraplegic, it’s another to date one.
Or maybe that’s just my shit rearing its ugly head again.
I look up at the clock in the operating room of the vet clinic. I’ve had back to back surgeries this morning, but I find the day passes faster when I’m in the operating room. It’s easier than seeing patients all day. The surgical table is low enough that I can maneuver around quite easily. We don’t do any high-risk surgeries at the clinic. We have the occasional emergency, but it’s mostly spays, neuters, cyst removals, dental stuff. Things I can do blindfolded. I have the odd pet that doesn’t do well, but for the most part, things go smoothly during and after surgeries I perform.
The door opens, and Brody sticks his head in. “How long until you finish up?”
“I’m putting in the last stitch or so.” I look up at Brody, seeing tension on his face. It’s not like him to check up on me. He did the first few days I was back, but not anymore. Something must be up. I lower my surgical mask. The look on his face is making my stomach churn. “What’s up?”
“Ainsley’s here. She brought Sadie,” he says then leaves.
A sick feeling hits my stomach.
You ever just know something’s wrong? That’s exactly what this is.
On the nights Ainsley watches Sadie, she always drops her off here in the morning before opening her shop for the day. It’s been our routine. Brody’s never thought to come and get me before. What’s going on now? I finish the stitches as quick as I can then rip off my surgical gloves.
When I open the door, Brody is leaned up against the wall, waiting. “Ainsley’s in room two,” he says. “She . . .”
“Is she alright?”
“It’s not her.”
I fly through the door, finding Ainsley on a bench with Sadie’s head in her lap. She looks up at me with tears running down her cheeks. I stroke her cheek and pat my dog. “What happened?”
“She was whimpering.” Ainsley sniffles. “She wouldn’t get out of bed, not even for a treat.”
“Her arthritis has been acting up,” I say. “Did you give her the pill in some peanut butter?”
Ainsley looks up at her big brother. Brody softly shuts the door. “It’s not arthritis.” He turns off the lights and puts up an x-ray of Sadie’s chest.
“No,” I say, immediately seeing the problem, all the telltale signs of an enlarged heart. I’ve seen it before, had to deliver bad news to families, but this time it’s my dog. There’s nothing that can help her. My head starts to shake, refusing to accept what’s right in front of me.
“She doesn’t have long,” Brody says.
“No,” I say again.
“She’s in pain,” Brody says quietly.
I should’ve seen this coming. I’m a vet, for Christ’s sake. She’s not a young dog. She’s getting old. She’s been lazier than usual. But I haven’t seen her in pain before, certainly not recently. I would’ve dealt with it had I noticed that. I could’ve prepared myself a little bit.
Sadie lifts her head slightly, licking my hand, then places her head onto my lap. I lower my head and sit quietly for a minute.
“I can’t,” I say.
Brody kneels and gives a tiny, sad smile to his sister. “I know. I’ll do it,” he says.
“No,” I say. “What’s the name of that vet who specializes in canine cardiology?”
“Rhett,” Brody says. “He’s all the way in Columbia. She won’t survive the drive.”
My mind goes into warp speed. “Diuretics can help, and there’s . . .”
“Her case is very advanced,” Brody says. “She’s been like this for some time now.”
“Maybe we can take her home,” Ainsley says, tears running down her face. “She should be at home.”
“Rhett,” Brody says, his hand landing on my shoulder, giving me his best bedside manner. “She’s suffering.”
I nod my head, and Brody picks up Sadie, taking her to an exam table. He sets up a few things, the medicine, the needle. I know what’s coming.
I’ve done it myself, but it’s completely different when it’s your animal. Knowing that Sadie won’t suffer is the only consolation my medical knowledge provides me. Ainsley takes my hand and kisses the top of my head. Slowly, we approach Sadie, and Ainsley steps forward first.
“I love you, girl,” she says, sobbing. “You’re the best dog . . .” Her voice gives, and she can’t continue. I put my hand on top of hers and lean down, wrapping my arm around Sadie, burying my head in her fur.
Sadie shifts her head so that she’s resting on my and Ainsley’s hands joined together. I look up, and Sadie holds my eyes. I swear she smiles at me. In that moment, I know she hung on to life for me, to see me through, to make sure I was okay, to make sure someone else would love me unconditionally like she does.
That’s the special thing about a pet. They’re always happy to see you. Wouldn’t it be nice if your partner greeted you with the same enthusiasm each time you walked through the door, no matter how short of a time you’ve been gone? Imagine being given that kind of love. The world would be a very different place if everyone was loved like that.
Ainsley loved me like that, even at my worst. She’s always been there for me, happy to see me. How different would my life be now if I had allowed her to continue to love me? Not been such an asshole to her?
“It’s time,” Brody says.
Drawing a deep breath, I nod. He gives her the shot, the medicine seeping into her veins.
Everything Sadie has given to me runs through my mind. Dogs don’t get enough credit; they are wise animals. They play every day. They live in the moment and jump for joy when their loved ones come home. They don’t hold their emotions inside. When they’re scared, they look for love. They don’t run from it.
I’ve run from it. I hate that I did. Sadie knew better than me.
“Thank you,” I mumble into her floppy ear, trying to hold in tears.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
AINSLEY
Brody insisted Rhett go home after Sadie passed. I closed my store so I could be with him, leaving a note on my door and a message on my voicemail that I had a family emergency. Sadie was my family, just the four-legged, furry kind.
Perhaps those are the best family members. They’re always good listeners, don’t mind our bullshit, and never have a bad word to say.
Rhett hasn’t had much to say, either. He’s just been sitting on the sofa. And aside from the few tears at the clinic, I haven’t seen him cry. All the silence is starting to drive me a little crazy. His condo seems eerily quiet without the sound of Sadie’s paws tapping along the hardwoods, her tail rapping against something.
We haven’t really hung out in each other’s places since Rhett’s been home, aside from Skye’s pregnancy test incident and my accidental nap on his sofa. Now, here we are, together again, in his place, where we spent so many nights before. It’s kind of sad that it took Sadie dying to bring me back here. I guess, even in death, Sadie brings Rhett and me together.
“Would you like me to pick up Sadie’s things?” I ask Rhett. “I could take them to a shelter, donate them.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll take care of it later.”
Taking a seat beside him, a few tears fall from my eyes. “I’m so sad, and she wasn’t even my dog.”
“Yeah, she was,” he says, looking over at me. “I know how much you loved her.”
“I’m really sorry,” I say.
Holding my eyes, he says, “No more walks with Sadie.”
He doesn’t say it like a question, but I know he’s asking one. That dang dog was the reason he kissed me the first time. She brought us together. All those walks—we fell in love on those walks. “Guess you’ll just have walks with me, then.”
His pale blue eyes cut right through me. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispers.
I’m not sure if he’s talking about Sadie or us. “I used to whisper that in your ear in the hospital,” I say. “When you were unconscious or sleeping.”
“I know.” He strokes my cheek. “You’d softly kiss me and whisper to me. I heard every word. I felt every kiss.”
“I wanted so badly for you to promise that back, that it would be okay.”
“It will be okay,” he whispers again, leaning in just a little.
For weeks, we’ve been spending time together. Since those initial few days he returned to Charleston, he’s backed off a lot, giving me the time and space I so desperately needed from him. Through that time, we’ve been playful, flirty, fun, but my guard has still been up. Maybe it’s because I’m too emotionally drained to fight it anymore, or maybe it’s just that it’s time, but suddenly, it seems that Rhett and I have had too much space and time apart. “You have to kiss me,” I say.
Without a moment of pause, he pulls me to him, parting my lips, his tongue greedy for mine. I don’t know what I expected—maybe soft and sweet, but there is nothing soft or sweet about this.
His hand grips my hair. My hands cling to his shirt, neither one of us able to get close enough. It feels a like a battle against all that we lost, all the time, all the moments stolen from us. He shouldn’t feel this good. I shouldn’t want him this much. His kiss shouldn’t still do this to me. My body knows what it wants, even if my heart is still scared.
He pulls me into his lap, straddling him. The fear that’s in my heart spreads to my body, and I jerk away, harder than I mean to. As soon as my eyes catch his, regret fills me. “I didn’t mean to . . .”
“I get it,” he says, transferring from the sofa to his chair. “This isn’t going to happen, is it? I was right in the hospital; you don’t want me like this.”
“Rhett!” I cry. “That’s not true.”
“All this time we’ve been spending time together, I thought you were still hurting, and just needed time. I thought if I was just patient enough . . . but now I see that’s not it at all.” His eyes lower to the ground. “You never pulled away from me. Now you’ve done it twice. First in Atlanta, and just now.”
“That’s what you think?” He simply stares at me. I know that look. I’ve seen it before, right about the time the bouquet of flowers flew past my head. “Let’s get it all out. Once and for all,” I say. “We never really did that. Bits and pieces, but we never had it out—all of it.”
“Fine!”
“This just didn’t happen to you!” I scream. “It happened to us. You never understood that.”
“I understand that my cock doesn’t do it for you anymore.”
“If you believe that, then you haven’t changed one bit.”
“Why don’t you just admit it?” he asks. “Admit you don’t want me like this.”
“I don’t want you like this,” I say, stepping closer. “But it has nothing to do with the chair.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” he bites out.
Unsure what comes over me, or what gives me this crazy ass idea, I stand right in front of him and grab his hand. He resists, but I don’t let go. His pale blue eyes watch mine, unsure what I’m doing. I’m not quite sure myself.
Guiding his hand under my dress, he jerks back, but I hold firm. “Touch me, Rhett,” I say.
Shocked, confused, pissed, thrilled—I have no idea the emotion going through his eyes, but he does what I say. He doesn’t wait a moment. His hand drifts higher, his fingers grazing the flesh of my inner thighs.
“Feel what you do to me,” I whisper. “What you’ve always done to me.”
Gently, his finger slips under my panties, finding me wet and open. My muscles clench. It’s been so long. “Just your kiss does that.”
His eyes close. I know I’ve proven my point and step away, my body screaming at the loss of contact.
He whispers my name, sounding like an apology, but I’m done listening. It’s time for him to hear me. “I’m scared, Rhett. I’m scared of losing you again. I left the gym that day because I was afraid you’d get hurt in the game. I came back because I couldn’t stand the thought of me not being there if you were. But I can’t be there if you won’t let me.”
“Ainsley,” he says, reaching for the chain that hangs around his neck.
“No,” I say, holding up my hand. “I pulled away just now not because I don’t want you, but because it scares me how much I do.” I feel my tears welling up and suck them back down. “You want me to be honest?”
“Always.”
“Of course I’m afraid to have sex with you again. It’s been a long time. And I don’t know what I’m doing. I mean, logistically. Can you be on top? Do I just straddle your chair? I know there’s some sort of sex swing that’s supposed to help.”
“How do you know about the swing?”
“Google,” I say.
“You’ve Googled sex with paraplegics?”
“And wheelchair sex. And sex toys for . . .”
He busts out laughing, interrupting my cyber-stroll down memory lane. “Did you buy anything?”
He thinks he’s being cute and funny, but I’m not laughing. “We aren’t going to work,” I say softly. He stops laughing, his head shaking, and I can see the arguments forming behind his eyes. “If you don’t stop putting the chair between us, we don’t have a chance.”
“I don’t.”
“You assume everything is about you being in that chair, but it’s not. I pull away, and you assume I don’t want you. What’s it going to be like if I don’t want to have sex one night? Are you always going to assume it’s about you? Maybe I just have a headache.”
“Tell me you have a headache, and then I’ll know.”
“But will you believe me?” I ask.
“A. Rose.”
I shake my head. “No, Rhett. You’re always going to think I’m sacrificing something to be with you. You can’t see everything you give me, and that’s no way to have a relationship.”
“Ainsley, what can I do?” he asks.
“Get over yourself,” I say. “Or get over me. It’s your choice.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
When you kiss me, my toes curl.
A. Rose
RHETT
“Dude, I think Skye’s gone off the deep end,” Brody says, sitting at his desk across from mine
in our joint office.
“Why?” I ask, trying to act interested, but I’ve got my own woman problems to contend with.
“You’ll see when she gets here,” he says. “She’s stopping by with some lunch. She’s just not herself. Like the other day, the florist called to say tulips are out of season, and you know, that’s Skye’s favorite flower. She designed the whole wedding around that flower, basically. And Skye just smiled and said we’ll have baby roses instead.”
“That doesn’t sound like her. Must be something in the water with women these days.”
Brody looks over at me, holding his hands up. “You know I can’t get in the middle.”
“I understand, but I need to ask you one thing,” I say. “I need you to be honest. Ainsley’s your little sister. Would you have any hesitations if she and I got back together?”
I know he knows what I’m asking. I don’t have to spell it out for him. He wasn’t exactly thrilled when he found out about our relationship, and that’s when I wasn’t stuck in this chair. He has to have given this some thought. Would he want his sister to spend her life with me? Is he concerned she’ll end up being a nursemaid? Concerned about what she might be giving up to be with me?
Brody leans back in his chair, looking straight at me. “Not one.”
His support means a lot to me. When I first started dating Ainsley, I really didn’t care what Brody thought, or at least I told myself I didn’t, but having his blessing this time is important. “Appreciate that.”
“I’ve seen you around here, on the basketball court, how you’re handling things. I have no doubt you will take care of her, love her.”
“So we have your permission this time?”
“You asking for it this time?”
“Hell, no,” I say, chuckling.
Skye walks in with a couple sacks of takeout. “What’s so funny?” She gives Brody a kiss on the cheek.
“What’s that I smell?” he asks, giving me a look. “Is that fried chicken?”
Just Love Page 22