Calmly, Carefully, Completely (The Reed Brothers 3)
Page 60
“Do you want some company when you go?” I ask. “I could go with you.”
His gaze leaps to mine.
“I mean, I could wait in the waiting room.”
He nods. “Maybe.” He smiles. “Thanks for the offer.”
He comes forward and grabs my arm, squeezing it gently as he walks by me. And I don’t freak out or feel like I need to hit him. Maybe it’s just him. He seems like a good guy. One of the best, probably. He’s been through a lot.
“Good night,” he says quietly.
“’Night,” I say.
I cluck my tongue at Maggie, and she follows me into the bedroom, where I close and lock the door. I shrug out of my clothes and slide into bed with Pete. He pulls me to him immediately, and I roll forward, putting my face against the light dusting of hair on this chest. “You’re cold,” he says.
“Maggie needed to go out,” I explain.
He lifts his head. “You didn’t go out alone, did you?” he asks.
“Matt went with me.” I yawn.
“Oh, okay,” he hums. He grabs my leg and pulls it over his hip, and my naked girl parts are right beside his naked boy parts. But I’m not worried, not even when I realize his parts are reaching toward mine. He kisses my forehead and murmurs, “Go back to sleep.”
I close my eyes and snuggle into him. He’s quiet and still when I say, “I love you, Pete.”
“I love you, too,” he says, his voice husky from sleep but clear. I smile and find the sweet spot where my head fits best.
Pete
I sit on the couch with Maggie at my feet. She’s not well. She hasn’t been able to stand up this morning, and so I just sit and pet her and talk to her about Reagan.
“This doesn’t look good,” Paul says, eyeing Maggie. He’s worried since Hayley is here and he doesn’t want her to mess with Maggie. It’s hard to tell a five-year-old to leave the dog alone.
“I know. I made an appointment for nine a.m.,” I say. “I just need to go and wake Reagan up.”
“Does she know how bad it is?” he asks. He’s making breakfast for Hayley, and he stops every few minutes to dance around the kitchen with her.
“I doubt it,” I grunt. “She was walking around just fine yesterday.”
“You had better go and wake her up or you’re going to be late,” Paul warns. Paul’s the timekeeper of the family.
Sam starts to put his shoes on. “I’m going with you,” he says.
“Do you want me to go, too?” Matt asks.
“Neither of you needs to go,” I remind them. “Why don’t you stay here and make a cake or something, Sam?” I ask. She might need cheering up when we come back.
He shrugs. “Okay.”
But Matt gets ready to with us, and he comes to take my place petting Maggie while I go get Reagan. I step into the room and close the door behind me. She’s kicked the covers down so that one of her boobs is exposed. Her skin is pale where her bathing suit covers her, and she has tan lines that I want to trace with my tongue. But not right now.
I sit down on the side of the bed and give her a gentle shake. “Reagan,” I say quietly. Her eyes open slowly, and she stretches, her lips spreading into a smile. “Good morning,” I say. I’m hard. I admit it. I’m a guy and she’s naked and she came on my face last night. So, yeah, I have to adjust my junk. This isn’t the time.
“Morning,” she says, her voice hoarse from sleep.
“You need to get up,” I say. “I made an appointment for Maggie this morning at nine at the vet.”
“She still acting tired?” she asks. She sits up on the side of the bed, holding the covers up over her br**sts.
It’s worse than her being tired. I’m sure of it. “Yeah.”
“Okay,” she says, covering a yawn. She looks at her clothes lying across the room.
“Do you need clothes out of the car?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I just need to get dressed and brush my teeth.”
“I’ll give you a few minutes,” I say. But what I really want to do is stay and watch her get dressed. And then undress her and do it all over again.
I walk out and Matt’s got Maggie in his lap. She doesn’t look that bad, but she’s tired. I can tell. This is a big deal. She threw up again and again last night, more than Reagan probably is even aware of. Reagan comes out a few minutes later with her hair pulled into a ponytail. She slips into the bathroom, and I hear her brushing her teeth.
She comes out, and I stand up with Maggie in my arms. “I’ll carry her down,” I say.
“She can walk, can’t she?”
I shake my head, and I see Reagan’s features cloud with worry. I start toward the door, and she follows. Matt goes with us. Reagan climbs into the backseat of her Camry, and I put Maggie in her lap. I toss the keys to Matt, and he drives so I can sit with Reagan. Reagan coos at her dog, talking softly to her about how she is going to get some vitamins and then they would go home. But I doubt that’s going to be the case.
We get to the vet’s office, and they put us in a room. The vet comes in and does a quick exam. She takes Maggie to the back for pictures and tests. She doesn’t have Maggie with her when she returns. She has her vet’s face on. “I’m sorry. I don’t have good news,” she says quietly.
Reagan covers her mouth with her hand, and a sound escapes her lips. I pull her into my side. I had a feeling this was coming. “Maggie is fifteen years old. That’s pretty old for her breed.”