1105 Yakima Street - Debbie Macomber [65]
Before she could open the car door, Will planted his hand on the side window and turned, leaning against the vehicle so she couldn’t leave.
“What?” she said heatedly.
Then Will hauled her into his arms and kissed her full on the mouth. When he released her, she faltered for a second or two.
He looked as shocked as she’d felt when she’d kissed him.
“Where are you going?” he asked again, his voice faint.
“Home.” He wasn’t the only one with voice problems. Her own sounded as if a mouse had gotten control of her voice box; her words came out like a high-pitched squeak.
“Will you be back in the morning?” He seemed anxious, as though concerned that she might resign her position.
“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”
“I didn’t want a little thing like a kiss to stand between us,” he said with a frown.
“You kissed me.”
“Yes, I know.”
“And I kissed you…first. Okay, I’ll admit it.”
“Do you plan on doing it again?”
“Why are you asking?” After all, he was the one who claimed she was a big-boned, opinionated windbag. “Do you want to kiss me again?”
His head shot up. “Let’s just call this whole episode a slip in judgment.”
“On both our parts,” she added.
He offered her a tentative smile. “On both our parts,” he agreed.
Twenty
The puppy’s soft mewling cry woke Grace from a sound sleep. Cliff had been feeding Beau in the middle of the night, and usually seemed to hear the puppy before Grace did. Often she got up, too, but there really wasn’t much she could do. So, after a few minutes she simply returned to bed.
“Okay, okay, I hear you,” she muttered as she threw aside the covers. Cliff continued to sleep peacefully, which told her he was especially tired. It was her turn to get up with the puppy.
Beau slept in a cardboard box in the corner of their bedroom. She didn’t like it, but there wasn’t anyplace else they could keep him where he could be heard at night. Unfortunately, he still needed to be fed every few hours.
Reaching for her fleece housecoat at the end of the bed, Grace slipped it on and tucked her feet into the warm, fuzzy pink slippers that had been a gift from her daughter Maryellen last Christmas.
Cliff had the puppy formula ready, so she got it out of the kitchen and carried Beau into the living room. As she set him in her lap, he latched on to the small rubber nipple and sucked greedily.
“You’re not as cute as you think you are,” she felt obliged to inform the puppy. “Buttercup was a great-looking dog,” she said aloud. Sighing, she realized she actually wanted this small, runt-of-the-litter dog to feel jealous. Beau wouldn’t grow up to be half the dog Buttercup was. Nope. Not in a million years.
“I hope you’re happy,” she said. Beau might think he’d finally got her where he wanted her, but he was dead wrong. Grace had no intention of letting this puppy, or any other dog, capture her affections. The only reason she’d agreed to take him was as a favor to Beth. Even now she was sorry she’d allowed herself to be talked into this.
Grace had managed to steel herself against the puppy—so far. In fact, she went out of her way not to pay attention to Beau. During the day Cliff looked after him, which helped. Unfortunately, he had a meeting with fellow horse-breeders the next day and wouldn’t be able to bring Beau with him. That meant she’d have to take the puppy to work for the first time—something she’d rather not do.
Holding the baby bottle, she focused her gaze on the opposite wall. “Buttercup would’ve looked after you,” she said. It was still difficult not to tear up when she thought of her beloved golden retriever. Not a day passed that she didn’t think of Buttercup. Her dog had always greeted her when she returned from work, and in the evenings Buttercup would lie at Grace’s feet while she read or watched television.
“You could pet him, you know.” Cliff’s voice startled her. Grace looked up to see her husband leaning against the archway that led into the living room.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“I didn’t see. Early. Too early for either of us to be up. This