Thank God.
***
“I wish you’d come with me,” Rhys murmurs against my lips early the next morning. We’re standing next to his rental car. He’s holding me close to him, kissing me as if he’s never going to see me again.
Is this what it’ll look like when he finally does leave for good?
“Be safe,” I say, gripping onto his arms. “I’ll see you tomorrow, you know.”
He sighs and leans his forehead against mine. “Why does it feel like you won’t miss me?”
“Are you going to miss me?”
He tips those lips up at the corner, giving me that sexy half-smile. “More than I’m comfortable with, Gabrielle.”
Well, okay.
“I might miss you a little.”
He slaps my ass, then lowers his long body into the driver’s seat and slams the door.
“See you tomorrow,” he says when he lowers the window.
“See you.” I wave as he pulls away, and then return to the inn to make sure that all of the guests have had breakfast, and the ones leaving today are checked out. My cleaning crew is already here, working hard on the rooms. I have just enough time to take Sam to camp for a couple hours, then come home and get to work.
It’ll be a busy day, but that’s good. It’ll keep my mind occupied on things that aren’t the fact that Rhys isn’t here.
Because that’s just silly.
“Are you ready, buddy?” I ask Sam as I bustle through the kitchen, tuck a box of Cheerios back into the pantry and set Sam’s bowl in the sink.
“Yep! We get the puppy today!”
“I know.” I smile and take his hand in mine, leading him to my car. “It was nice of Rhys to take us out yesterday to buy all of the things we’ll need.”
“The puppy is going to like the plastic baseball the best,” he informs me.
“How do you know?”
“Because he’s my puppy.”
“Oh, right. Of course.”
Baseball camp is fun for the kids. They spend a few hours learning all of the basics, then play a short three-inning game. There are the usual falls and tiffs, and inevitably one of the boys bursts out in tears, but for the most part, it’s just fun.
When they’re done, Sam and I drive just a few miles away to a parking lot where we’re meeting the lady with the puppy.
“Oh, Mom, look!” Sam jumps out of the car and goes running to the smiling woman with the puppy in her arms. The dog is squirming, trying to break free and join Sam, but she holds him strong.
“Hi there,” I say when I join them.
“Hi. Well, Sam, what do you think?”
“I think he’s awesome!” Sam is rubbing the pup’s ears gently. “He likes me.”
“I think so too.” She passes the dog to my son, who laughs as he gets his face kissed, which really just makes my stomach turn.
I’m pretty sure I know where that tongue has been.
“That’s it, unless you have questions. But you have my number, so feel free to call if you need anything.”
“Thanks.” I get the boy and his dog settled in the back seat and set off for home.
In the short ten-minute drive, the dog has been in the front seat, the back seat, and returned to the front seat seventeen times.
Seventeen.
I’m relieved that we live on enough land that I’m not worried about Sam and the puppy playing in the yard. We also don’t live near a busy road, so Sam should be able to play with him without the leash.
And that puppy definitely needs to burn off some steam.
“What are you naming him?” I ask Sam.
“Derek.”
I choke, sputtering and laughing at the same time.
“Derek? Why that?”
“Because Derek Jeter retired, and I know I’m not a Yankees fan, but it’s all about respect, Mom.”
“Ah,” I reply seriously. “What if you called him Jeter?”
“Jeter is a last name.” He rolls his eyes like I just don’t get it, making me smile more. “Derek is a first name.”
“Okay, it’s your dog.” I hold my hands up in surrender, then lift the puppy into my arms, cuddling and nuzzling the sweet little guy. He really is adorable. He’s red in color, and his ears are almost as big as the rest of him. And oh, that sweet puppy smell. I might be a little in love with him myself. “Make sure he goes pee, then you can take him in and show him your room and the kitchen.”
“Okay! Come on, Derek.”
Derek.
My kiddo is hilarious.
I walk to my desk to fetch my iPad so I can open my scheduling program for the inn to double-check the guest list, who is staying where, and to see if anyone has booked online since yesterday afternoon.
But it’s not on my desk. I check the kitchen, my bedroom, and even my car.
Nothing.
Where in the hell did I leave it? I’m crippled without it. I hate flying blind, not knowing which guests I’ve assigned to which room, and I definitely can’t take phone reservations without my scheduling program.
My phone suddenly rings, and glancing down at it, it’s the same unknown caller again.
“Hello?”
There’s a long pause, and then the call ends.
God, I hate that.
Okay, Gabby, adjust your sails. You can’t find the iPad. What now?
My computer. I can log into the program on my computer and use it there until I find the damn iPad.