“I have one I bought myself with allowance and so does Mace,” Owen informed him. “That one’s from all of us.”
“Great,” Jeff said as he opened the door for their son. “The Escalade’s unlocked. Go ahead and get in the backseat.”
Owen gave Chester one last squeeze, then raced for the Escalade.
“Thanks for the gift, Claire.”
“Sorry about the wrap job. I’m not at my best one-handed.”
“I’m sure I’ll love it.”
She had thought so, too, when she’d purchased the framed photograph at a gallery several weeks ago.
He pulled her into a hug and she thought of all the history between them and how strange it was that, as much as she’d once loved him, she had no desire to share anything with him now except their children.
“Just be careful with McKnight, okay? Even a friendship with him might not be the best course right now, politically. I wouldn’t be surprised if the city council tosses him out on his can. This accident has people in an uproar. As a small businesswoman trying to make a living in this town, you can’t afford to alienate people by aligning yourself with the wrong sort.”
She instinctively wanted to defend Riley, but she had no wish to prolong the argument with Jeff, so she gave him a polite smile. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said.
After he left, she closed the door behind him, then sank onto the bench in the foyer, her bones aching. She wasn’t at all certain she had the energy to even move to a more comfortable spot. Working all day and then dealing with two frustrating males had completely wrung her dry.
Each creak and groan of the big old house seemed to echo as she closed her eyes and considered her options for the rest of the evening.
What she really wanted right now was a long, luxurious soak in the claw-foot tub upstairs in the master bath that she had insisted on keeping when they renovated the house. But because she still wasn’t sure about her ability to handle fifteen narrow steps—and because she couldn’t very well soak in the tub anyway given the blasted casts—she would have to settle for the pitiful alternative of a shower using the chair the home care nurses had rigged that first day she was home.
Chester apparently decided he was done with his outdoor nap and ready to try the sleeping accommodations inside. He gave his deep, yowly rarh-rarh-rarh bark and she climbed to her feet—well, foot and crutches anyway—and opened the door for him.
He waddled inside, his tail wagging with more energy than the rest of him, appearing delighted to see her. “You’re such a good dog. Yes, you are,” she cooed, rubbing his acres-long ears. “You love me, don’t you, buddy?”
He gave her a doggy grin that looked so incongruous with his sad, droopy eyes and deep jowls. As she rubbed at the spot he loved just behind his collar, Claire could feel her shoulders relax and a bit of the tension of the past half hour seep away. At least one of the males in her life was relatively trouble-free. Food and a warm bed, that’s all he needed.
“You want some dinner, don’t you?”
In answer, he waddled toward the kitchen, his paws clicking on the wood floor and his tags jingling.
She followed him and refreshed his water and food dish, a bit of a chore with her limited mobility but not impossible.
When the dog’s immediate needs were taken care of, she opened the refrigerator and considered her own options. Right now, that last piece of Alex’s sinful chocolate cake with the layer of raspberry sauce and the chocolate curls on top looked mighty appealing.
She could have chocolate cake for dinner if she wanted. After the day she’d had, didn’t she deserve it?
“You won’t tell, will you, buddy?”
Chester barely looked up from his dinner and Claire decided to take that as a yes.
She pulled out the cardboard box with the resort logo and set it on the table. She was sticking a fork into all that chocolaty goodness when she heard a low rapping at the back door.
Chester didn’t bark, only wagged his tail eagerly on the kitchen floor, moving around a couple of chocolate cake crumbs she hadn’t realized she dropped.
With a sigh, she pulled out the fork and set it on the plate, then hobbled to the door and peeked through the filmy curtain. She supposed she wasn’t really surprised to find Riley on the other side, hands in his back pockets.
He’d changed out of the trousers and dress shirt he’d been wearing earlier for work to jeans and a casual cotton red shirt, the sleeves rolled up to midforearm in the still-pleasant evening.
Her stomach did a long, slow roll and she was tempted for a moment not to answer the door. All she wanted was to eat her chocolate cake dinner in peace, have a lousy, awkward shower with half her body wrapped in plastic and then crawl into bed. Was that too freaking much to ask?
Fighting with Riley again didn’t fit into that agenda whatsoever.
The only trouble was, he knew she’d seen him. They’d made eye contact, so she couldn’t just go back to her cake and ignore him, much as she would like to.