A Brand New Ending (Page 50)

Harper sagged in defeat. She pressed a kiss to the dog’s head as if apologizing. “I’m all out of options. Is there anyone you can think of who doesn’t have any pets and can take in a stray, at least until I’m able to line up something else?”

The answer came in a blinding flash.

Oh no—could she? Would he flip out? Then again, if she insisted and brought over all the supplies, how could he say no? It’d only be temporary, a few days at most.

“Actually, I think I do,” she said slowly. “But it can only be for a week maximum.”

“That’s all I need! I’ll find him a more permanent place—I just need more time.”

Ophelia sighed. “Can you get him in my car?”

“Yes. Where are you taking him?”

She grabbed her coat and shot her sister a look. “Don’t ask. Just be grateful I care as much as I do.”

“I owe you, big-time!”

Ophelia grabbed some old blankets, rummaged in the cabinets for some bowls, and headed to the car. The poor lab was in the back seat, curled up next to Harper. Her sister was staring at her cell phone screen with obvious tension.

“What’s the matter?” Ophelia asked.

“I’m so sorry—what a crap day. One of my rescues is having an issue. I have to get to the barns.”

“Go. I can handle this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Go.”

Harper eased the dog on top of one of the blankets, making a cozy nest for him on the floor. “Thanks.”

After Harper climbed out, Ophelia began to drive, making sure she kept talking in a low, calming voice. “The ride is only a few minutes down the road,” she told him. “I’m taking a risk, but at least you’ll have shelter and food. The quality of the company I can’t promise you will be great.”

Finally, she got to Patrick’s house. She picked up the poor dog, who was shaking, and knocked on the door.

When he opened it, he glanced at her with surprise. “Did you bring more food?” The hopeful glint in his eyes faded when he spotted the dog in her arms. “What the hell is that?” he boomed out, making the poor dog cringe.

She frowned. “Lower your voice. I need you to do me a favor.”

His eyes widened, and he backed up, shaking his head. “I’m not taking in a dog. I can barely take care of myself. Have you gone crazy, girl?”

“Probably,” she muttered. She kicked the door closed with her heel and walked inside the house. “Look, it’s just for a few days. We found him in the woods, half-starved. He’s been to the vet so we know he’s not sick or contagious. He hates other animals, though, so Ethan can’t take him and Harper can’t take him. The vet’s place is full and, basically, if you don’t take him, he’s going to die out there in the cold.”

He glowered at her, then spit out a few vicious curses. “No.”

“You don’t need any more crap on your soul, Patrick,” she warned. “Didn’t AA talk about amends?”

“To people I hurt—not stray dogs!”

“Think of it as an analogy. Or a simile . . . I’m not sure.”

Patrick studied the dog. “It’s old as dirt. Probably will die soon anyway.”

“You’re old as dirt and you’re still here. How would you feel if someone said that to you?”

He just grunted, looking stubborn.

“Look, by helping this stray dog, you’re gaining someone’s forgiveness.”

“Whose?” he growled, glaring at her.

“Mine. Okay, me. I’ll forgive you. Clean slate. Just take the dog.”

More cursing. He started to pace. “I have nothing here. What if he shits?”

“He probably will, but I’ll head into town right now and get you the supplies you need. I already have blankets and bowls. Will you do this for me?”

“Fuck.”

“Thank you!” She placed the dog on the couch and hurriedly backed up. “Just be nice to him. I’ll be back soon with the supplies.”

“Three days!”

“Five.”

“Fuck.”

She shot him a brilliant smile. “I’ll be right back.” Then she took off like Danica Patrick on the racetrack before he could change his mind.

A few hours later, she climbed out of the shower, exhausted. It had taken forever to get the dog set up at Patrick’s and convince him it would be okay. Then Margo and Devon came home early from the festival with a whole bunch of requests before retiring to their rooms to get dressed to go out for the night. The ski couple had also returned, wanting to chill in the main room by the fireplace and order takeout. She’d taken care of business, spent some time doing bills since it was the end of the month, and had finally been able to crash. Kyle was over at Ethan’s after putting in a full day’s work—he probably needed to blow off some steam.

Clad in her comfy yoga pants and oversize flannel shirt, she dried her hair until it was damp, then twisted it into a topknot. She slipped her feet into pink fuzzy slippers and went into the kitchen to pull together a mishmash of leftovers for dinner.

She had a hot date with the television and some yummy carbs.

Singing low, she made herself some cheese and crackers, poured herself some white wine, and settled in with one of her favorite classic movies, Moonstruck.

She must’ve fallen asleep, because when she opened her eyes the movie was over and it was almost eleven p.m. Yawning, she got up and stretched, then took her plate and empty glass into the kitchen.

The main lights were out, and the place was quiet.

Hmm, maybe the girls had come back early?

She’d left the porch and foyer lights on. She wondered if Kyle was home, too. Biting her lip, she fought the impulse to go upstairs and knock on his door, casually ask him how Ethan and Mia were—even though they lived on the same property and she saw them practically every day.

Dear God, it was time to admit it.

She wanted a booty call.

Shaking her head, she went to the front door to check the locks when she heard a door bang upstairs. Moving to the stairs, she strained her ears.

Had he just come in?

Didn’t matter. She couldn’t stage a seduction dressed in her current outfit. She snorted and started walking back to her room, but she heard the faint creak of the steps. She turned her head to look back and see who was coming down when Kyle suddenly flew around the corner, grabbed her hand, and dragged her inside the bedroom.

“What the . . . ?”

“Save me,” he muttered, quietly closing the door tight. He leaned his back against the hard wood, his face etched in the lines of male wariness. “She’s scary as hell. Don’t let her get near me.”

Recognition shot through her. “Are you talking about Devon?”

“Hell yeah. She knocked on my door, but I was trying to get some work done so I didn’t answer. Then she started whispering things that made me uncomfortable, begging me to let her in. It was like a bad vampire movie. I had to make a run for it. What if she picked the lock?”

She bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud. “Oh my God. I cannot believe she tried knocking on your door.”

“I know. I even told her I was married!”

Ophelia blew out an annoyed breath. “I should say something to her. This is ridiculous.”

“No!” His arm shot out to block her. “She’ll be gone tomorrow. You don’t need her torturing you for the next few hours. I’ll just sleep in here. So you can keep me safe.”