“Yes?”
Their gazes met and held. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words from his heart. “For everything.”
Shock flickered in her eyes, followed by a softening, and what he wanted to think was longing settled in her gaze. “Bye, Julian,” she whispered.
He inclined his head, accepting that for the dismissal it was. He curled Steve’s leash around his hand, winked at her, then turned and walked out of her life.
Chapter Three
Julian was losing his mind. He was surrounded in shit. Literally. Within forty-eight hours of bringing Steve home, the dog got sick… from both ends. He had a vet appointment scheduled at the end of the week for a checkup, and now it was almost five p.m., and of course, Steve was worse. Curled up in a ball on the cool kitchen floor, looking pathetic. He wouldn’t eat or drink.
Julian had run the gamut of ideas. He’d sat on the floor and tried to hand-feed. He’d attempted different bowls. Stainless. Ceramic. A damned kitchen plate.
He called the vet he had an appointment with, but the message went straight to voice mail. They’d closed for the day.
Unsure of what else to do, he picked up the phone and dialed the shelter. ?
?Hello, For Paws,” Kendall’s familiar voice said.
“Kendall, it’s Julian.”
Silence followed, then, “What can I do for you?”
“Steve’s sick.” He glanced at the poor dog, looking at him with sad eyes.
“What’s wrong?” she asked immediately, concern in her voice. She might not want to speak to him, but she cared about his dog.
Julian drew a deep breath and went on to explain the situation in as delicate a way as he could manage, considering. “The vet I called isn’t in and I… I’m at a loss.”
She was silent for a few precious seconds. “I’m finished here. I’ll come by to check on him. Not that I’m a vet, but we’ll figure out what to do. Are you still at the same place?”
“No.” He gave her the new address and expelled a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding.
Kendall was coming to help him. Kendall. He couldn’t even bring himself to process that thought because he had a living, breathing, sick dog on his hands. And he’d never been responsible for anything other than his sister before.
He’d had Steve for two days, and though he should have crated him at night, his cries had been pathetic. So Julian now had a bedmate with bad breath.
He paced the floor, waiting for Kendall to arrive, and finally the bell rang and he opened the door. “Hi. Come on in,” he said, relieved to see her.
She wore a similar outfit to the one he’d seen her in the other day, a pair of jeans that molded to her thighs and ass and a tee shirt that said Enjoy the Crazy. He appreciated her ability to laugh at life, something she’d been doing since they’d met.
“Where is he?” she asked.
“In the kitchen.” He gestured toward the room, and Kendall headed that way. She walked in and discovered Steve lying curled into himself.
“Hey,” she crooned to him, getting down on the floor. She put the back of her hand against his nose. “It’s warm and dry. There’s a twenty-four-hour emergency clinic uptown. Let’s take him there.”
“Okay, yeah. Good idea.” He was relieved someone knew what the hell to do.
She scooped the dog into her arms and rose to her feet “Cab?”
He shook his head. “I can drive.”
She met his gaze and nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”
* * *
Kendall held on to a lethargic Steve as Julian sped toward the Upper East Side. She did her best not to look at him, to study his handsome face or masculine features. She didn’t want to focus on his full lips or strong jaw. And she especially needed to ignore the woodsy scent in his car. All those things spelled trouble for her deprived senses.