“It’s only spaghetti.”
“I love spaghetti. I suck at making the sauce, though. Mine comes from a jar.”
“Hungry?”
His tongue traced over his bottom lip as his eyes narrowed. “Starving.”
My breathing faltered. I sensed he didn’t only mean for dinner.
I might have whimpered.
“Do I have time for a shower?”
I nodded, unable to speak.
“I’ll get Lucy settled and be back in a few minutes.”
“How will Dex feel about a dog being here?”
“Dex is an old mother hen. He’ll sit close to Lucy all night and watch over her, just as I will. He always does when I bring injured animals home with me. I think, because he was hurt, he just gets it. It’s as though he senses their pain.” Daniel shrugged. “Or maybe not. He is very gentle, regardless.”
“That’s amazing.”
He dropped another kiss on my head. “Yeah.”
I watched as he took Lucy into the living room, settling her basket by the fire where she would be warm. Dex jumped down, investigating the basket, and Lucy lifted her head, the two animals sniffing warily at each other. Lucy snuffled and laid her head back down, while Dex curled up on the floor beside the basket as Daniel murmured to them both, stroking their fur.
I smiled and turned to the stove to stir the sauce. My own Doctor Doolittle, talking to the animals. He reappeared in the doorway, and I noticed his grimace as he reached around and rubbed the center of his back.
“Are you okay?” I asked, feeling guilty. He had picked me up a lot today. “I’m not the lightest of things to pick up.”
He shook his head. “You barely weigh anything. You fit perfectly in my arms, so stop thinking like that. I love how you fit around me.”
His words caught me unaware, and I stared at him. No one had ever told me I was perfect.
“You are.”
Oh.
Obviously, I spoke out loud.
“But, you’re sore?” I asked, still worried.
“I’m good—just a little stiff. I am by the end of the day, bending over the exam table so much—a drawback of being tall. It has nothing to do with picking you up. That has been the very best part of my day—so far.” He winked. “I hope I don’t drop my shampoo, though. I’m not sure I could bend down and pick it up.” His face broke into a wicked grin. “If I did, would you come and . . . help me in the shower, Sprite?”
A strange noise came out of my throat, even as my face grew hot.
Help him?
In the shower?
He’d be naked.
Wet and naked.
In the shower.
“I–I . . .” The only words I was able to gasp out.