A New Leash on Love

by Debbie Burns

  Megan high-fived him and Reese said that maybe just birthday parties—and not animals—were stupid.

  For the second time that night, Megan’s gaze locked on Craig’s. She held it just a second or two, then looked away, biting her lip.

  He thought of the walk they’d taken at her place and how close he’d been to kissing her. How the only reason he didn’t was because he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop. Until tonight, it had been impossible to believe that he could be ready to hold on to someone this soon.

  But whether or not he was ready for her, Megan was here. And he didn’t want to let her go.

  If his kids weren’t going home with him tonight, he would have committed to making right the idiot decision to avoid her that he’d somehow managed to keep this last week and a half.

  * * *

  With the saltiness of leftover cheese pizza and the clingy sweetness of root beer still on her tongue, Megan sank to her seat and shut the driver’s side door. In front of her, the shelter was dark and quiet, lit by the emergency-exit lighting. Letting out a tired breath, she glanced at the clock on her dashboard. It was almost nine o’clock. Friday night or not, as soon as she gathered the strength to start driving, she was headed home to curl up in bed. On top of a full working day, Sophie’s party had exhausted her physically and emotionally.

  Sophie had had a blast. That was the most important thing; it was her thirteenth birthday after all. And Sledge had rocked. Halfway through the party, Megan had thrown caution to the wind and done her best to help Reese make a connection with something other than a video game. She was fingers-crossed hopeful that it had worked. Her heart went out to the kid. When she was just a few years older than him, she hadn’t thought anything could be worse than losing her father. But Reese had lost his identical twin brother. She could only imagine how long the aftershocks of that would shake the Williams family.

  Jillian seemed as put together as a woman could be, but Megan had glimpsed the vulnerability that had to have come with loving her two surviving kids in the aftermath of losing the third. It had happened when Reese was leading Sledge back to the kennels. Sledge was following him for another treat, and Reese was still forgetting to hide that spectacular smile of his. Jillian’s composure faltered for a second or two, and her mask fell away. She’d been near tears. Tears, Megan suspected, of relief or hope. How scary it had to be for her to march forward, promising her children things would be okay, when she knew such promises can never really be made.

  Then there was Craig. Everything about him called to Megan’s soul. He also had put on an amazing front, but it was one Megan could see beneath. Maybe he hadn’t called in eleven days, but in just a few exchanged looks, she knew it wasn’t because he didn’t want to.

  He was afraid. And why shouldn’t he be? What would bringing her into his world do to his kids when they were already adjusting to new lives?

  She certainly wouldn’t be the one to press him into anything before he was ready. She’d made it through tonight. She could make it through anything. Right now, it had to be about Reese and Sophie. She got that in a way she hadn’t before. They’d been through enough. They were still going through it. Losing someone you loved wasn’t something that happened over one day. Like water carving away at rock, it would continue to shape them for years.

  Fishing through her purse, Megan pulled out her phone and unlocked the screen. She didn’t do it to make a call or to check her email. Instead, she stared at her background picture. She’d taken the photo when she was twelve. It was film originally; she’d had it converted to digital when she was seventeen.

  She brushed a fingertip over her dad’s image. It wasn’t the best picture, but she’d been the one to take it, and it had been a really good day. It was taken outside, late fall when the leaves were a golden yellow-brown. He was wearing his favorite plaid fleece and blue vest. He’d been working in the garage, restoring an old Camaro. She’d been hanging out with him, laughing and listening to his stories. She ran in the house for a camera when she noticed a dark smudge of oil on his cheek. Instead of telling him, she took his picture. Most likely he’d figured out something was amiss, but he grinned a cheesy grin and let her take it.

  It captured his playfulness, and even though it wasn’t perfectly focused, she loved it. Less than six months later, he was gone. How long had it taken, she wondered, for the pain over his death to stop carving away at her? Not knowing the answer, she flipped her ignition and started for home.

  Chapter 15

  Standing at the sink, Craig stared out the window into the darkness. A single streetlight glowed yellow in the distance, illuminating a redbud that was beginning to bloom, and making a halo of the rain falling in horizontal sheets across the parking lot. A flash of lightning danced across the sky. A crack of thunder shook the walls.

  Pressed against his ear, his cell ceased to ring and Megan’s voice mail picked up. He hung up without leaving a message, frowning, wishing he’d been able to call earlier. Tossing his phone on the counter, he paced his darkened apartment. But the sterile and confining kitchenette and adjoining living room weren’t big enough to work off his energy.

  Not only was there tension lining every muscle, but his skin was tight, uncomfortable. The compact apartment had never been so stifling. If it wasn’t storming, he would go outside for a run, despite the fact that it was nearly midnight. Long runs always took the edge off. Sophie and Reese were old enough now. And they were both sound asleep in their cramped, shared bedroom. He could leave them long enough to run himself to an exhausted calm.

  When the storm passed, that’s what he’d do. Until then, he needed to think of something. He shoved aside the coffee table and sank to the middle of the living room floor in push-up position. His chest and shoulders started to burn when he reached seventy, but he pressed on, not willing to stop until the burn turned to fire and the fire to acid.

  From the counter, his cell began to ring. Rising to his knees, he wiped the sweat off his brow and forced his breathing under control. He answered after the third ring, just before the call was lost to voice mail.

  “Hey,” he said without looking at the screen. “Thanks for calling back.”

  “That’s okay. Is everything all right?” Megan cleared her throat. Her voice was heavy with sleep, which made him visualize her smooth neck and how much time he wanted to spend kissing it.

  “Yeah, everything’s fine. Sorry if I woke you.”

  “It’s okay.”

  He took a breath, his heart still beating rapid-fire in his chest. “I wanted to call earlier, but I have the kids. They were up late. I think it was all that cake and caffeine.”

  “Sophie’s with you? She’s okay?” Megan sounded tired, confused. And there was something else in her voice he couldn’t place.

  “She’s fine. Why?”

  “I don’t know… It was a dream, I guess. It was terrible.” Afraid, Craig realized. She sounded afraid.

  “She’s asleep in the next room.” He stood up and headed for the kitchen, leaning over the sink to look at the rain. “Snoring even.”

  “Thank God. Nightmares, you know? They suck. But when I woke up, my phone was beeping with a missed call from you, and it seemed like too much of a coincidence.”

  “Would it help to tell me what it was about?”

  The line fell silent. A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky. “Not really,” she said finally. “I just have nightmares sometimes.”

  “Megan…” Her name was all that would come out. What could he say to her? Ask if there was something he could do to take her fears away? Hell, he hadn’t been able to do that with his own kids.

  “Will you promise me something?” Her voice was soft, innocent.

  “If it’s in my power, yes.”

  “It sounds stupid saying it, Budweiser commercial stupid, but Sophie… I don’t know… I was her age when i
t happened. A few days from turning thirteen. She’s always talking about how alike we are, but I never did tell her the whole truth. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I don’t know why. I never tell people.”

  Craig watched the rain racing nearly sideways toward the ground as everything fell into place. Suddenly he knew what she was going to say. He’d heard her allude to it in small snippets of conversation that were never pursued. He’d seen it in the photos at her place of a father who wasn’t aging. Felt it when she reached out to take his keys.

  He could tell she was fighting the unevenness in her voice. Trying to keep strong. “My dad, he wasn’t a drunk. He just made a mistake one night. My parents were fighting over something stupid. They’d have these rows, but then they’d make up. One night, they had one and he stormed out. I guess he met up with some friends at a bar.” He heard her swallow. Could tell there were tears sliding down her cheeks. If he was with her, he’d kiss them away, one at a time. She paused, swallowing hard. “I guess you know where this is headed.”

  “Yeah, I do. I’m so sorry, Megan.”

  “It’s okay. I survived. Those of us who are left behind survive, don’t we?”

  “We do, but surviving isn’t everything, is it? We have to learn to do more than survive. It’s taken me a long time to realize that. But I get it now. How can I expect Reese and Sophie to heal when I’m not?”

  “What you’re doing for your kids, I respect that. Believe me. My dad was only gone a year when my mom got serious about someone new. Six months after that, she remarried. Some guy they both went to high school with.” Megan laughed, but the sound was mingled with tears. “Want to talk about grudges? I’m still holding one. It’s probably why I never tell anyone. In the long run, my mom remarrying turned out for the best. I have a brother and sister now. They’re a lot younger than me, but they’re amazing kids. I’m crazy about them.”

  Craig turned away from the rain and pressed his eyes shut, picturing her face. From the first time they met, he’d been drawn to everything about her. Her skin, her mouth, the shape of her nose. Hair he wanted to sweep back so he could lose himself in that neck of hers. Eyes that seemed to read him in a way no one else’s ever had. And that…that was above the neckline. The rest of her stirred him to life, making him feel as if his sluggish body was waking from a hundred-year slumber.

  He felt it sliding in with these thoughts, the fear that came with wanting someone as much as he wanted her. Exposing himself to something else that could be taken away. Diving into something that could cause his kids more pain. The fear was so strong that he was almost surprised by his next words.

  “I have to see you.”

  Her laugh was subdued, painful, and muffled like she was wiping away tears. “We saw each other tonight.”

  “That…that was torture.”

  “I haven’t gotten to that promise,” she said. “About you and never driving drunk.”

  “Okay.” He paced his apartment, itching to grab his keys and take off for her place. “That’s an easy promise. I haven’t done that since college. If losing Andrew and then watching my kids as I went through the divorce didn’t push me into it, I can promise nothing will.”

  She let out a slow, even breath. “Thank you.”

  “Megan.” He stopped pacing and sank to his couch. “Christ, Megan. What am I going to do with you?” He closed his eyes, waiting for her to respond, wishing he could reach the pair of lips on the other side of the line.

  “Nothing,” she said finally. “Because right now, nothing is the right thing to do. When it isn’t storming and the middle of the night, you’ll remember it too.”

  “Would you care to guess how many times I’ve reached for the phone to call you this last week and a half? How many times I’ve nearly had to tie myself down to keep from driving to your place? And then tonight you were so phenomenal with Sophie. And Reese… That was nothing short of a miracle. It made me realize this doesn’t have to be something else to tear the kids apart. It doesn’t have to be wrong.”

  “It’s wrong if you jump into something. If we jump into something.”

  “Then how about we don’t jump? How about we walk or crawl or, hell, we can slither.”

  She laughed, low and quiet and in a way that called to his soul. “Oh yes, please. Let’s slither. I’ve always dreamed of that.”

  He chuckled, and the line fell quiet. The part of him that’d been waking up was humming with wild tension. “I’ll never regret a minute with my kids, but I have them through Sunday. Otherwise…” He stopped pacing and brushed his fingers down the ridge of the front doorframe. “I think you know the otherwise.”

  “Craig, I… This scares the hell out of me.”

  Unlocking the door, he stepped onto the threshold and soaked in the crisp, clean scent of the spring storm as the rain battered the ground. “They always do, you know. Those things we want the most.”

  A blue-white flash of lightning and simultaneous boom of thunder exploded over the parking lot as if in agreement. He felt the energy surge through the air, matching the tension inside him. If there was any other way than to face this fear head-on, he certainly didn’t know it.

  * * *

  Megan was in the kennels squatting—did she have to be squatting?—in front of a slobbery mastiff mix when Craig walked through the glass doors and into the noisy room, stopping not far behind her. Rather than turning to acknowledge him, she stood up and handed the mastiff’s leash to the new volunteer who had a hankering to take him today.

  “He’s been walked a few times,” she continued. “No complaints so far, except that it’s best to stand off to the side when other dogs are going to pass. He’s a bit skittish around other males, but he hasn’t shown any hint of aggression.”

  Megan heard Sophie and Reese in the background, squabbling over something as the volunteer leaned over to let the mastiff lick her cheek. Though she had her back to the three of them, she could hear the kids moving from kennel to kennel, looking at the whimpering and pleading dogs.

  Keeping her attention on the woman, Megan said, “Would you like to walk him around outside while I get the rest of the dogs ready?”

  The new volunteer agreed, only half acknowledging Megan as she cooed to the dog and headed toward the back doors.

  Facing the new arrivals, Megan self-consciously wiped her hands on the backs of her pants. She was fairly certain her cheeks had reached a deeper shade of red than they had been since grade school as Craig, who was now standing behind his kids, winked at her. In blue jeans, a fitted V-neck, and a light jacket, he exuded a meet-me-at-the-park male model aura.

  Because she felt as if she’d have less chance of falling apart, Megan forced her attention to Sophie. “Hey there, thirteen-year-old. We’re walking in Forest Park this morning. Trees are starting to blossom, so it’ll be a beautiful one.”

  “Great. And in case I forget later, last night was the best birthday party ever.” Sophie bit her lip and motioned toward her dad. “Would it be okay if they walked some dogs too?”

  An entire morning with Craig. Somehow Megan managed to shrug as she turned her attention to Reese, who was mock-whimpering at a Great Dane nearly his height. “Sure. Reese, was this your idea?”

  He scoffed loudly enough to be heard over the dogs. She wasn’t sure why it surprised her to see his guard up again. “Walking’s gay.”

  “Reese,” Craig interjected, “enough.”

  Joining Reese in front of the showstopping Great Dane, Megan pulled out her keys to unlock the cage door. “I’ll let that slide since you’re a kid, but there are better adjectives out there for your lack of enthusiasm in activities.”

  One corner of Reese’s mouth pulled up in a shadow of a smile. “Maybe. But walking in a park to smell the spring flowers is definitely gay.”

  Stepping into the Dane’s cage, Megan motioned Reese to follow her, then d
irected her next words Sophie’s way. “I don’t know, Soph, but I’m pretty sure drastic grudges call for drastic measures. Think Peanut can win him over?”

  Sophie giggled. “If any of these dogs can, it’ll be Peanut.”

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, Reese’s dog stopped in his tracks as the group rounded a bend in the trail overlooking a gurgling stream. “I’m so not picking that up.” He gagged as Peanut pulled in his massive haunches to take a dump the size of Reese’s head.

  Megan fanned her nose. “His poops are always huge and stinky. It’s Peanut’s only downfall. That and the Great Dane’s short life expectancy, I guess.” She pulled one of the bags from her jacket pocket. “We have a strict rule here, but I’ll give you this one-time exception since we’re trying to win you over. Otherwise, it’s each walker to his own crap.”

  Closing off her breath, Megan bagged the poop and jogged back with Sledge to the nearest trash can. When she returned, Reese was still holding his throat.

  “It was so big. How’s that possible?”

  Craig, who was farthest away, motioned to the Chihuahua-dachshund he’d been given. “I told you we should trade.”

  “I wouldn’t walk that dog if you paid me,” Reese replied. “That shows you shouldn’t say you don’t care what kind of dog you get next time.”

  “At least his crap will only be the size of my pinky.”

  “I’m just glad you’re open to a next time,” Megan said, cocking an eyebrow at Reese.

  He turned away with a shrug, but not before she caught the hint of a smile that belied his indifferent expression.

  Sophie groaned. “Can you two not ruin this for me? I look forward to this all week.”

  “Sure thing, sweets,” Craig said, resuming his place beside Sophie. “How long a walk is it today?”