Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
I watch in awe as the two of them disappear down the hall, and a swirl of emotions surges in my chest.
Tyler would have made a good father to his son.
He will make a good father.
“Okay, if I weren’t already pregnant, I think watching that would have knocked me up.” Vicki turns her dazed eyes to me. “He is perfect for you, Marie. He loves dogs and babies, and he’s so hot.”
My pulse races. I know. But others see it, too. “We’re just friends.” Dare I hope for more?
From the living room, a sharp whistle cuts through the air, and Yukon and Bentley bolt out of the kitchen.
“See?” Dad holds up his finger in the air. “Dogs always know.”
* * *
“I hope that wasn’t the worst dinner you’ve ever had.” My mom wrings her hands as she walks us to the door. I’ll bet she’s as relieved as I am that it ended without a cataclysmic screaming match, but she’s suitably embarrassed, regardless.
Tyler’s unexpected and swift removal of the children seemed to disarm the bomb about to detonate, allowing everyone a moment to calm down and reevaluate words that likely would’ve caused lasting damage once they were spoken. Jim and Liz left soon after, citing Jim’s workload and Liz’s condition for their speedy departure. Vicki escaped upstairs to bathe Molly and ready her for bed. Tyler tried to find a spot next to me at the sink, but my mother chased him off, so he ended up parked on the couch where my father regaled him with countless stories about Earl Hatchett and other mushers who became more than just clients.
When I emerged from the kitchen, Aurora’s chin was resting on Tyler’s knee as his fingers moved in a slow, circular pattern over her forehead. I’ve never seen her get that close to anyone besides my mother.
“Actually, Marie specifically promised me a horrible dinner, and didn’t deliver on it.”
“Oh.” My mom laugh-snorts and shakes her head. “Did she mean my cooking or the company?”
Tyler’s eyes sparkle as he towers over my tiny mother and charms her. “Both were enjoyable, Eleanor. Thank you for the invitation.”
“You’re welcome!” my father hollers from the depths of the house, where he’s settled into his chair. “See you again, if you’re crazy enough to return.”
Tyler chuckles and then, with a pensive look, hollers back, “Tell Bill Compton that I’ll give him that interview, but only if Marie’s involved.”
I stare at him. Is he serious? Where did that come from?
“She’ll do it! I’ll let him know!”
“Stop hollering! Vicki’s trying to put Molly to bed,” my mother hisses in the direction of the living room before reaching for my wrist, giving it an affectionate squeeze.
I smile. “You sure you’re okay with helping out at the clinic this week?” It’s been years since she sat at that desk.
She waves away my concern. “It’s like riding a bike. Plus, I could use the break from this madhouse.” She peeks around me to confirm that Tyler has already reached the bottom of the steps. “I really like him,” she whispers. “But I don’t think this one is just a friend.”
Warmth swells in my chest. I can’t tell if it’s wishful thinking or if she sees something I want to see. Either way, I hope she’s right. She knows well enough the heartache that’s woven into my history with Jonah. “Good night, Mom.”
I rejoin Tyler on the grassy path, my steps buoyed with hope as we walk toward my cabin in the gloomy dusk. The chill in the damp air prompts me to pull the front of my jacket closed.
Without a word, Tyler slips his arm around my shoulders, fitting me against his side, much like he did that night in the truck when he was offering me comfort.
Now, he’s offering me warmth.
Butterflies stir in my stomach as I try to relax against him, but this is all so new. I keep my pace slow, not wanting this part of the night to end.
Tyler’s chest rises and falls with a sigh. Is he as happy as I am at this moment?
“So, will you admit now that we should have started with coffee?” I ask into the quiet.
“And miss that shit show? No way.”
I shake my head, but I’m laughing. “I don’t know what’s going on lately. If it’s the pregnancy hormones or money worries … We’re not normally that bad.” Clearly, there’s animosity fermenting beneath Liz’s skin, and I seem to be the catalyst. “My sister has always had an issue with my dad handing over the family clinic to me. She thinks I have it too easy.”
He chuckles. “You did how many years of school again?”
“She thinks I should have started from scratch after I got out,” I amend. “Built up my own clientele. That, or paid Dad outright for his. She doesn’t see that technically, I am paying for it monthly. It’s kind of a rent-to-own business.” Except I’ll never own the physical structure. “Anyway, I hope that wasn’t too painful. Even though I did warn you.”