Before We Kiss (Fool's Gold #14)

Dellina had a feeling that next up would be Lark reminiscing about the time she walked in on Sam in the shower or something. Honestly, the woman had no boundaries. Sam’s personal life and preferences should be respected, not the subject of casual conversation.

“Did any of you know Mayor Marsha has a dog?” she asked, in a not very subtle attempt to change the subject.

Jo returned with their drinks in time to hear the question. “No, she doesn’t.”

“I agree,” Isabel said. “I’ve never known her to have a pet.”

“Well, she left an adorable Pomeranian with Fayrene while she’s in New Zealand.”

Taryn’s knowing gaze settled on her face. Dellina figured Taryn had guessed what she was trying to do.

“You think she has a secret pet?” Taryn asked.

“I don’t know. Caramel is very sweet and highly socialized. She was a big hit this weekend. The kids loved her.”

“She was lovely,” Lark said. “And the right size for travel. Maybe I should talk to Reggie about getting a little dog. He or she could go with us on our trips.”

“I’m working with an organization that might have to do a chiweenie rescue,” Larissa said. “They’re small.”

“Chihuahua and dachshund?” Lark asked. “An interesting blend.”

“They’re cute,” Larissa told her. “There’s a woman being investigated. We think it was a regular breeder situation that got out of hand. That can happen.”

Taryn sighed. “Yes, Larissa is very good at finding causes. Remember when you hand-fed imprinted swan babies?”

“Cygnets,” Larissa corrected. She nodded. “Their mother had been killed and a family took them in. But then the cygnets imprinted on humans and there were five of them, so I took in a couple.”

Taryn leaned toward Dellina. “What she means is she volunteered and Jack ended up with baby swans in his living room.”

“Cygnets.”

“Whatever.”

Dellina nodded, not that interested in Larissa’s need to rescue the world. Of more importance to her was the fact that they weren’t talking about Sam anymore. More specifically, that Lark wasn’t blabbing about her son to anyone who would listen.

* * *

THEY GOT THROUGH lunch without any more oversharing. Dellina told herself to be grateful and simply move on with her life. Only she couldn’t stop thinking about all Lark had said about Sam. Not just during this meal, but every other time they’d spoken. She wasn’t angry, exactly. More frustrated. As they all walked out of the restaurant, she pulled Lark aside.

“What is it?” the other woman asked.

Dellina tried to tell herself it wasn’t her business. That she shouldn’t get involved. Only she couldn’t seem to help herself.

“I’m sorry. I know this is just my opinion, but you can’t keep doing that,” she said quickly. “Talking about personal things. It’s fine when it’s your business. You have every right to share as much as you want. But not when it comes to Sam. Maybe the girls, too, but certainly him.”

Lark frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“You say things that make him crazy. Like talking about when he stopped breast-feeding and that he wouldn’t run around the house naked.”

“But he was a charming child.”

“I believe that, Lark. I know you love your son, but talking about him that way is intrusive and disrespectful. He wouldn’t want you to do it. I can’t figure out if you simply don’t understand that or if you don’t care about his wishes.”

She paused to wonder how deeply she’d stepped in it. “I get that you’re a warm, loving family. I wish my mom was alive to drive me crazy. You obviously care about your kids a lot. But Sam is different from you. He needs his boundaries to be respected.”

Lark’s blue eyes filled with tears. “I’ve upset you, Dellina. I’m so sorry.”

“This isn’t about me. It’s about Sam. Why can’t you see that?”

Lark sniffed. “Look at you, standing up for him.” She hugged Dellina. “I’m so glad he has you on his side.”

Dellina hugged her back, even as she wanted to shake her. “Lark,” she began.

The other woman shook her head. “Not another word,” she said. “I understand everything.”

But Dellina knew there was no way that was true.

* * *

KIPLING KEPT HIS breathing even. He knew the argument for painkillers. That being in pain stressed the body and impeded healing. It made sense medically, but the information wasn’t the issue. Instead he had to deal with what was happening in his gut. The knotted anger and helplessness that had nothing to do with broken bones and damaged organs.

Shelby had left for home. Her mother had taken another turn for the worse and Shelby wanted to be with her. Kipling had told her to go—he knew she would, anyway. But leaving meant putting herself in danger. She would walk into the house of a monster and there was no way he could protect her.