by Andrews, Amy
“More of you to love.”
Juliet’s breath cut out altogether. If she wasn’t very much mistaken, so had his. She knew he meant physical love but it was still the L word and it sat between them like a bloody great boulder. They froze in place as if they were both too scared to move in case it toppled and crushed one of them.
She really, really should call it quits.
His breath eased out in a slow, ragged sigh. “I’ll get the bed reinforced.”
Juliet blinked, a bubble of absurd laughter rising in her chest. Relief flooded her bone marrow. He hadn’t meant it.
It was going to be all right.
She could have kissed Ryder for pulling them back from the brink. In fact, she did, raising her face toward him, half turning, dragging his head down, her mouth meeting his, hot and hard and urgent, desperate to get lost in the one thing she was certain about.
Their overwhelming desire.
Chapter Twelve
Their desire kept Ryder grounded in the moment over the next ten days, but he was aware of the clouds hanging overhead, the distant clock ticking down their allotted time together. Every kiss and touch and look, every taste, every precious second spent buried inside her was savoured and racked up in the mental record he was keeping.
He just wished he had more time.
Juliet would be leaving in a couple of weeks. A Monday afternoon at three—he’d committed the time, date and her flight number to memory—and he wasn’t ready for it.
It hadn’t been long enough.
Why hadn’t he met her months ago? Maybe they’d have had enough of each other by now? Maybe he’d be ready to let her go.
Let her go.
As if it had anything to do with him. He didn’t own her. He wasn’t her keeper. She was going to Italy and there was nothing he could do to stop her.
He didn’t want to stop her.
He wouldn’t stop her. He wouldn’t ask her to stay. He wasn’t going to be like her ex. He wasn’t going to be another douche in her life asking her to set aside her dream for him.
This had been her goal for years and she’d been through a lot. She deserved it.
But man, they had crap timing. It sucked to finally meet a woman who was the full package—a top sheila as his father would say—only to have their time limited.
He’d been shit scared after he’d told her there’d be more of her to love that she was going to cut that time even shorter. He’d cursed himself as soon as he said it. He didn’t know where it had come from—it had just slipped out.
He hadn’t meant love love.
Or at least he didn’t think he had. But her stillness had been worrying. He’d gone still, too, half expecting her to end it right then and there. When she’d kissed him, it felt like a last-minute stay of execution and he’d taken it and drowned in it.
Juliet walked into the living room of her apartment with a bag of frozen peas. It was ten on Saturday night and she was wearing the hell out of her tiny tartan boxers. He’d been home from the game for ten minutes—they’d kicked ass, winning by twelve. The victory would have been sweeter had she been there but, as usual, she’d declined.
He was sitting on the couch, his leg raised on a chair from the dining room. He’d sustained a light sprain in the last two minutes, which was nothing serious. Rest, ice, and elevation. No training for him the next couple of days—just some gentle exercise managed by the physio and it’d be fine.
But having her play nursemaid wasn’t half bad, either.
She leaned over and applied the bag of peas to his strapped right ankle, moulding it gently to shape. “Nice view,” he murmured as he caught a glimpse of her cleavage, the white triangles of her breasts a stark contrast to the deep golden brown of her tan.
She straightened, a smile playing across her mouth. “You’re clearly not in any pain, then?”
“Not in my ankle, I’m not.” He grabbed his crotch suggestively. “It really hurts here, though.”
“Oh?” She cocked an innocent-looking eyebrow. “You want some frozen peas for that, too?”
He grinned. “I was thinking more along the lines of heat therapy.” He made a grab for her, but she danced away and he chuckled.
They’d spent all morning in bed but still he wanted her. Some guys swore off sex the night before or the day of a game, but Ryder had never subscribed to the theory. He’d always found sex invigorating and sex with Juliet made him feel ten feet tall and bulletproof.
She stood just out of reach, her arms folded, looking down at him all Little Miss Smug. He couldn’t wait to turn that little smile into a sexy little O and a throaty little gasp.
“That was a great try you scored.”
“Oh, you were watching, huh?”
“I told you I’d watch. Karen had to force my hand away from my face about a dozen times, but I watched. The camera really zooms in on your butt, you know that, right?”
He laughed. “I think it’s actually zooming in on the ball, not my butt.” Although he was glad to be the star of her own little peep show.
“Well thank you for getting your butt in near the ball as often as possible. Keep up the good work.”
“I will.” He grimaced as the cold started to seep into his injured joint.
“Are you sure it’s only a sprain? It’s not broken or anything? Should they have done x-rays?”
Ryder had broken enough bones in his life to know what a break felt like. “It’s not broken.”
She eyed him dubiously. “I don’t suppose you’re going to be able to”—she looked around for lurking roommates and leaned in a little closer—“fuck with that? Especially if it’s broken.”
Ryder smiled. “I can fuck with all but a broken dick and even then I’d give it a red hot try.” He lunged, grabbing her arm and she squealed playfully as he dragged her toward him. “Come and sit in my lap and I’ll show you.”
He yanked on her hand and she went down laughing, her ass landing squarely in his lap, his semi-hard dick stirring to greater proportions. His mouth landed below her collarbone and from there it was a short trip to lick down into her cleavage.
“Your dog is vomiting in the courtyard.”
Karen’s announcement cut into the sexy times just as Ryder’s fingers were making their way under the hem of her shorts.
Nothing killed passion like dog vomit.
Juliet ripped her mouth away and pushed herself off Ryder’s lap. “Oh shit.” She frowned as she glanced at Ryder. “He’s been a bit off this afternoon.”
She scurried to the courtyard and Ryder followed her at a slower pace, limping slightly, his ankle stiff with cold. Tiny barely acknowledged Ryder’s presence as he paced back and forth along the breadth of the courtyard.
Juliet crouched down and called Tiny who reluctantly came to her. He must be sick. The animal would normally leap over a tall building for some Juliet loving.
She ran her hand over his head. “What’s up, big guy?” She glanced over her shoulder at Ryder. “Does his stomach look swollen to you?”
Ryder crouched beside her, laying a hand gently on Tiny’s abdomen. It was tight and round as a drum and the dog whimpered at the touch. “Yeah, I reckon it is. We better get him to the emergency vet, it could be a twisted gut.”
He’d seen it happen a couple of times with their working dogs and knew they had to act quickly. The dog may have caused all kinds of destruction and mayhem and only be a temporary pet, but he’d firmly wormed his way into Ryder’s affections.
“I’m sorry.” Juliet fluttered a hand over her cleavage, her fingers rubbing Tiny’s ear like a child rubbed an old faithful blanket. “I should have picked it up earlier when he didn’t eat that sausage I threw him.”
The worry and wobble in her voice clawed at his gut. The fact Tiny meant as much to her as to him yanked at his heart. “It’s okay. Hopefully we’ve caught it in time.” He gave her a quick arm squeeze. “Get dressed, and I’ll load him into the dual cab.”
The
y were at the vet within fifteen minutes. Ryder carried him in. The vet nurse took one look at a man hefting a seventy-kilo dog inside and the paleness and worry lines on Juliet’s face and ordered them straight through to a consult room. Tiny whimpered as Ryder eased him onto the cool metallic surface.
The vet, an older woman with sun-bleached locks and a pink stripe in her hair confirmed Ryder’s suspicions after a thorough but gentle examination. Tiny had lain passive and listless throughout, which put a real itch up Ryder’s spine.
“I think you’re probably right. Gastric dilation is quite common in Great Danes. We need to try and decompress his stomach, then get some x-rays. If there’s any torsion or twisting of the stomach I’ll need to operate. He’s not yours, you said?”
“No. I’m looking after him for a friend of a friend who’s overseas at the moment. They’re back in a few days.” He made a mental note to ring Val and let her know. “So whatever you have to do, however much it costs, just do it, okay, Doc? Money’s not an issue.”
“Of course.” The vet smiled kindly at both of them. “First things first—we’ll try the decompression and get an x-ray. If you’d like to wait outside, I’ll call you back when we’re done.”
Ryder nodded, but he was strangely reluctant to leave as he stroked Tiny’s head. The dog whimpered softly and a sudden thickness invaded his throat. He may be a professional athlete who lived in some fancy beachside apartment, but deep down he was just a country kid who’d grown up with one dog or another at his heels.
A pampered city pet may not be a working dog, but the second Ryder had opened his door to Val and the bloody great lug of dog he’d been on a slippery slope. Tiny might not belong to him, but the very real danger he was in right now clenched like a vice around Ryder’s chest.
A farm kid was used to seeing the circle of life. Birthing and dying was as common as the sun rising and falling.
But a dog was different.
Juliet’s hand slid into his and the band around his ribs eased a little. Her hand was warm. Her body, pressed down his side, was achingly familiar. He smiled at her, so damn grateful she was here.
His belly clenched at the thought that in two weeks she wouldn’t be, and all his insides seemed to drain away. He shut his eyes as his breath left his chest in a rush.
God fucking damn it. It was a really shitty time to realise he loved her.
They sat side by side in the waiting room, not really talking, just holding hands and staring at the walls, pretending to listen to the soft radio music and feigning interest in lukewarm coffee. Ryder’s thoughts chased around and around in his head as the minutes ticked by, his heart about as twisted up as Tiny’s stomach.
He was in love with Juliet.
It had been staring him in the face for a long time, but he’d been too busy with the sex thing to analyse his feelings. Which was so bloody stupid because it was flagrantly obvious to him now.
What a fucking idiot he was.
Looking back, he could even pinpoint the exact second he’d fallen for her. The moment she’d snapped his picture and teased him about being a serial killer—that was the moment. He’d thought he’d fallen in like that night. He’d already been in lust. But it’d been more than that. She’d snatched his heart right out of his chest.
Stolen the damn thing from under his nose.
He’d never been in love before. Never felt this…this feeling that his heart belonged to somebody else. That it no longer served him. That it was too big and too full and too tight with the enormity of it all. That it could burst and break and shatter.
That it probably would.
Even trying to breathe while the knowledge grew and expanded in his chest was difficult. He loved her and he was going to have to let her walk out of his life because of that love.
If you love something set it free…
They looked up simultaneously as the door opposite opened, and the vet gestured for them to join her. Ryder, pleased to have something else to think about other than how much his life was going to suck in a couple of weeks, almost leapt to his feet. Juliet was slower, her thoughts transparent, focused solely on Tiny.
And didn’t that make him feel like an utter bastard…
The vet was standing in front of a large computer screen displaying an x-ray. “We were able to pass a tube and decompress the stomach, but I’m afraid Tiny does have a volvulus. See?”
She pointed to the x-ray. The chalk white of Tiny’s curved spinal column and the strips of his ribs were obvious but not much else was to Ryder.
“This is the stomach.” The vet pointed at the screen to a black area surrounded by a pocket of white. “Can you see the reverse C shape of it? That’s the volvulus, where it’s twisted. I’m going to have to go in and untwist it and tack it down so it won’t happen again.”
They stared at it for long moments, the torsion obvious when pointed out. “How long will it take?” Juliet’s voice was soft and a little high.
“If it’s straightforward, about half an hour. You got him here in good time, so I’m hoping it’ll just be a matter of the repair. But there could be other complications.”
“Such as?” Ryder enquired.
“Some of the stomach tissue could have died, in which case it will need to be removed which will obviously take longer. If it’s extensive it might be…too late to do anything about it.”
Ryder swore he could hear Juliet swallow at that announcement, and he slid an arm around her shoulders.
“I really don’t think that’s the case at all,” the vet hastened to add. “I would expect Tiny to be much sicker if there was extensive tissue necrosis. But I do need to let you know the possibilities.”
It was Ryder’s turn to swallow. “Of course.”
The vet reached out and squeezed Juliet’s hand. “I really don’t think it’s going to be that bad, though, okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“You’re going to do this now, yeah?” Ryder asked.
“Yes. Straight away. Why don’t you guys head home, and I’ll ring you when it’s done.”
Juliet shook her head. “No. We’ll stay.”
“You’re more than welcome to, of course, but it’ll be after twelve by the time I’m finished and I do promise I’ll ring as soon as I’m done.”
“We’ll stay until after the surgery.” Juliet glanced at him. “Right?”
Ryder nodded, his heart growing bigger, his chest squeezing tighter all at once. She was pale beneath her tan, two high spots of colour on her cheeks, but she looked determined. And fierce and loyal. She looked like she’d stay all night if she had to.
He wished liked hell she felt the same way about him.
“We’ll stay.”
“Of course.” The vet smiled sympathetically. She clearly understood that clients’ feelings about their pets often overrode practicalities like sleep. “I’ll come and speak to you as soon as I’m done.”
They trundled out to the waiting room again, making more cups of coffee they probably wouldn’t drink. She chewed on her lip as they stood beside the machine “Hey.” Ryder cradled her face with his palm. “It’ll be okay. She seems really positive.”
He was heartened by the vet’s confidence, but Juliet was obviously still worried, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.
“I should have realised something was wrong earlier.”
Ryder pulled her in for a hug, resting his chin on the crown of her head. She leaned into him heavily and he inhaled deep and slow, soaking her in, soaking in her uncharacteristic clinginess, trying to give her the comfort and reassurance she was obviously craving.
She was feeling guilty, and he didn’t want that. Something like this couldn’t have been foreseen.
He came perilously close to muttering those three little words he so desperately wanted to say. It seemed like the right moment. Telling the woman you loved that you loved her in a moment when she was anxious and worried and beating herself up over something that wasn’t
her fault was the thing couples did. They were the words that spoke of so much else.
I’m here for you. I feel your pain. Lean on me.
But he didn’t. Because they weren’t a couple. And it was a purely self-serving impulse.
“This is not your fault,” he murmured instead and kissed the crown of her head. “It’s going to be okay.” And he believed it. Deep in his gut, Ryder knew Tiny was going to be okay.
Unlike himself.
Who was going to have his heart ripped out of his chest in two weeks’ time.
The vet strode out just over an hour later. She was smiling and Ryder felt the sudden release of tension in the muscles of Juliet’s neck he’d been absently rubbing. They both stood.
“He came through with flying colours,” the vet confirmed. “A straightforward op, no complications.”
She prattled on a bit about the procedure and post-op management, but Ryder didn’t take a lot in, he was too busy hugging Juliet, who’d sagged into his side.
“Can we see him?” she asked.
“Sure, you can come through. He’s groggy and sleeping but come and say hi so you know he’s okay.”
They followed the vet into the back area where several cages were mounted along a wall. Tiny was asleep in a large one at the end of the row which was sitting on the ground. He had a surprisingly short suture line visible on his shaved belly and a drip ran into a vein in his leg.
“Hey, Tiny,” Juliet whispered, reaching her fingers in to stroke the fluffy tip of his ear.
Tiny stirred a little, opening his eyes briefly and letting out a quiet whine in acknowledgement before his eyes drifted shut again. Ryder squeezed Juliet’s shoulder and she slid her hand over top of his.
“He’s likely to be out of it for some time,” the vet said as Juliet straightened. “Which is good because we obviously want to keep him quiet for a bit. Why don’t you guys head home now and get some sleep? There’ll be someone with him all night and I’ll ring you in the morning with an update. You’re also welcome to call at any time if you’re worried overnight.”