“Half of the people you’ve listed work for me. They have a vested interest in keeping me happy.”
Charity laughed, genuinely amused by that statement. “I mean, have you met George Clark and Amos Moloi? Two of the most straight-talking, zero bullshit old men I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing? They couldn’t care less about keeping you happy. But they do because they like you. More people than you realize like you, Miles.”
He stopped walking and turned to face her, his eyes narrowed against the blustery wind.
“What’s this about, Charity?”
“I don’t know. I just wish you could see yourself the way I do.”
“And how’s that?” His voice had deepened, roughened. The gravel scraped her raw and left her on fire.
Stormy’s loud squeal saved her from replying, and they both looked up in alarm at the sound. The dog had leaped back from the hole and was still yelping, her left front paw held aloft in obvious pain.
“Shit!” Miles streaked down the beach toward his still crying dog, with Charity close behind. By the time she caught up, he was on his knees in the sand, the trembling pup held protectively in his lap. He was examining the paw.
“One of the pads is bleeding. It doesn’t look too terrible, but I’m not taking any chances, we have to get her to the vet.”
?
??Oh my God,” Charity went to her knees beside him and stared at the sluggishly bleeding paw. The blood was mixed with fine beach sand. The wound would definitely need cleaning. “Did she cut herself? Is there glass in there? A nail?”
“No.” He shook his head grimly, glaring out at the tranquil lake. “I think she got nipped by a crab. It was scuttling toward the water by the time I reached her.” He got up, the shivering, whimpering dog still gently cradled in his arms.
They were all piled into the SUV and on their way in under ten minutes. Stormy, clearly in pain, whined all the way to town and Miles, his eyes stark and his features taut, barely spoke a word during the entire drive.
Fortunately, Dr. McGregor considered the situation enough of an emergency to see them immediately, but after cleaning the wound and examining it, he smiled reassuringly at the still tense Miles.
“It’s just a flesh wound, as they say in the movies,” he quipped. “I’ll apply some salve and bandage the paw, but you won’t need to keep it on overnight or anything. It’s just to allow the salve some time to work without being licked off. Besides, this young miss is feeling very sorry for herself. A bandage will make her feel vindicated after all this drama. I’ll give her an anti-inflammatory shot, prescribe a course of antibiotics, and she’ll be right as rain soon enough.”
“You sure about that?” Miles barked, but the vet—obviously quite used to being barked, and snapped, and snarled at—merely smiled gently.
“Absolutely certain. I think you were right about a crab being the likely culprit. If nothing else, this will give her a healthy respect for all things crustacean. Sometimes we need to learn life’s lessons the hard way.”
Miles sagged in relief and after bombarding the vet with after care questions, they finally left. Charity watched as he murmured sweet, reassuring, little nothings to a sleepy Stormy…entirely focused on his dog, but still concerned enough about Charity to constantly check over his shoulder if she was following.
She had once believed that Blaine would be the literal death of her. But this complicated, sweet, caring man…he was the one who was going to end her. And the longer she stayed here with him like this, the worse it was going to be. She had to leave.
Soon.
Because if she didn’t, she wouldn’t have a beating heart left in her chest when she returned home to her family. Miles would have stolen it from her completely.
The drive back to the house was as silent as it had been in to town…but when he parked the car in the basement garage, she broke the silence before he could unbuckle his seatbelt.
“I’m leaving.”
His head swiveled, and his intense eyes honed in on her face.
“What do you mean?”
“On Saturday. I think that’ll give me enough time to say my goodbyes and arrange to ship the bulk of my things to my parents. I’ll leave you the shortlist of names and résumés for my replacement. If you don’t want to do it, I’m sure Lia will be happy to help. She knows a few of the ladies on the list and can give you some sound advice on who would be best for the job.”
“But…what about us?”
“Miles. This is for the best. Before we get too attached.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” His voice rose, and Stormy whimpered, startled out of a sound sleep. “Christ, Charity, I’m already attached. And I know you are as well. Why are you cheating us out of the last bit of time we could have together?”
She swiped at a few errant tears, refusing to make this worse by crying. But it was so hard when he looked so unreservedly distraught. Like his whole world was imploding.