Marcus had rolled onto his stomach, which was quite a nice view. I slid under the covers, brushed my fingertips down the knobs of his spine. “This okay?”
“Hell yes.”
I squeezed his smooth cheeks, my hand trailing over the fuzz on his thighs, giving myself permission to explore a little. “I’ll admit, it’s nice having you in my bed.”
“Told ya you wanna date me,” Marcus said into his pillow. “I’m irresistible.”
“And so modest,” I said with a laugh against his nape.
That was when I heard the screeching of tires outside the window.
“What the hell was that?” Marcus asked as his head sprang up.
“No idea.” My heart throbbed as a terrible feeling washed over me. I pushed off the bed and strode to the window.
A woman was in the street, crouching over something, her car door wide open. When I angled my head, I saw a dog lying on its side. Ruby. I couldn’t believe my eyes. “Holy fuck.”
“What’s wrong?” Marcus asked in an alarmed voice.
“Ruby got out and was hit by a car!” I bolted from the room, ran downstairs, and out the front door, my gut churning wildly.
“What happened?” I asked as I made it to the woman holding her phone and hovering over my dog. I could hear Ruby whimpering, so I immediately squatted to check on her. I saw no signs of blood or injury, but she was obviously in pain. “Oh God, Ruby, honey.”
“This is your dog?” The woman’s voice was panicked. “I’m so sorry. She just came out of nowhere. I slammed on my brakes, but my reflexes weren’t fast enough.”
“It’s gonna be okay,” Marcus said from behind me.
But was it? How could he be so sure when Ruby was lying in the street, unable to move?
“I can drive her to the vet,” the woman said.
“It’s closed on the weekends.” I stroked Ruby’s muzzle, trying to soothe her. “But there’s a twenty-four-hour emergency center in University Heights.”
“We can load her in the back seat of my car,” Marcus said, and fuck, right then, I was so grateful for his calm demeanor. “We’ll need to be careful about moving her.”
“How can I help?” the woman asked. “I’ll pay the vet bill. I feel terrible.”
I stood up, my gaze traveling up the driveway to the backyard. “Damn it. Looks like the latch wasn’t properly closed on the gate. The wind probably blew it open.”
Marcus squeezed my shoulder, but I barely felt it, I was so numb. “How about we get your number, and we’ll let you know what the vet says about her condition?”
“Are you sure?” she rummaged through her purse for a business card and handed it to Marcus. “I could—”
“It’s okay,” I said, finally meeting her eyes, and I saw the panic there. “We’ll be in touch. I promise.”
I tried soothing Ruby as I waited for Marcus to back his truck into the street, hoping like hell she was going to survive. Her breaths were reedy, her pupils dilated. It was as if she didn’t even recognize me. Fuck.
We lifted her very carefully and placed her on a blanket in the back seat. I stayed beside her as Marcus drove us to the emergency vet.
“It could’ve happened to any of us,” he said in the rearview mirror. “It was a freak accident.”
“No. Had I been more careful and not so fucking”—I waved my hand—“distracted by the idea of getting back upstairs to you, I would’ve kept a better eye on her and noticed the gate wasn’t latched.”
“Goddamn it, Lane. I already know where you’re going with this. There is nothing wrong with you taking time for yourself and your own happiness.” His knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel. “Not everything is black and white. Sometimes life—”
“Is fucking cruel.” I buried my fingers in Ruby’s fur, willing her to hang on. “But we already know that.”
He fell silent the rest of the way as I carefully watched Ruby’s chest moving up and down with effort. Damn it, Ruby. Be strong, girl.
Once we pulled up, it was a whirlwind of activity. Two staff members brought out a stretcher to get Ruby inside. They led us to an empty exam room, where we told the vet what had transpired.
She examined Ruby from head to toe, drawing a cry from her when she touched her right back leg. “It looks like she might have a fracture.”
“I’m so sorry, Ruby,” I said in a pained voice. Fucking hell.
“How old is she?” the vet asked as her assistant typed the information into the computer.
I frowned. “She’ll be twelve in a couple of months.”
She nodded, patting her muzzle comfortingly. “We’ll need to x-ray her leg and then do an ultrasound and some blood work to alert us to any internal bleeding,” she said, and I held in a gasp. “The good news is that everything we do is in-house, and we’ll have results back as soon as possible.”