Salvaged - Page 13/81

I put the dog back on the floor in the kitchen just in case he decided he really did have to go. I looked up at Wheeler like he’d lost his mind, because the way he was talking right now I kind of figured he had.

The dimples were back as he shifted position so he was leaning against the counter with his legs stretched out in front of him. “It all makes sense. I knew you weren’t going to want to give the puppy up after I fucked up and I know I’m not ready for all that responsibility on my own. It’s the perfect solution.”

I shook my head at him and threw my hands up in the air. “I think you’re insane.”

He continued to grin at me and I realized belatedly that when I’d moved into the kitchen it put me close enough to him that I could feel the heat his body generated and could see the way his muscles flexed and moved each time he laughed.

“Well, I think you’re pretty but that doesn’t have anything to do with anything. Take me up on my offer, Poppy, please.”

It was the second time he’s brought up the fact that he found me attractive. I used to be, but I’d gone out of my way to be anything except that ever since I was released from the hospital after Oliver died and the police pulled me away from the horrific scene that was our last moments together. How attractive Wheeler found me wasn’t what I should be focused on, and yet I couldn’t stop his words from spinning around in my head or the way they made my heart dip and my breath shudder.

“Fine. I’ll help you with the dog, but once he’s older and you and the baby are settled into a pattern, you have to keep him full-time. Kids need a pet.” Or at least in my experience, they wanted one and were never allowed to have one because their tyrannical father thought they were dirty and unnecessary. I cringed at the memory.

“I can do that.” He stuck out his hand, and before I could think twice about it or recoil at the thought of touching my palm to his, I put my much smaller one in his firm grasp. I let out a little whimper when his fingers closed over mine, too stunned that I was touching another person on purpose to move. “It’s a deal, honey.” His words were quiet and soft. He let go far earlier than I wanted him to but I was still in shock, so I just stood there with my mouth hanging open and my eyes wide as he told me, “He needs a name before I go.”

I took a step back and lifted a hand to my throat. I wanted to get it right, which is why I hadn’t given him a name yet. I didn’t like the pressure of trying to come up with something fitting while Wheeler had those chilly baby blues locked on me. “You pick.”

Slowly his head shook back and forth in the negative. “Nope. You’ve known him longer and spent more time with him. You should get to pick what we call him.”

I looked down at the dog, who was now on his back, all four feet in the air as he wiggled around the floor fueled by nothing more than excitement and joy. I cleared my throat and looked down at my feet. “Happy. We should call him Happy.” I winced as my voice did that thing where it broke in the middle of my words again.

“Happy? Like the guy on Sons of Anarchy? You didn’t strike me as a biker babe, Poppy.”

It was my turn to cock my head in confusion. “What’s a Son of Anarchy?” I didn’t watch much TV. It was all too violent and I’d made the mistake of stumbling onto a Law & Order: SVU marathon on cable a few months ago and ended up curled up in a ball on the couch crying my eyes out because the content hit too close to home. Even something as simple as watching television Oliver had tainted and destroyed.

His eyebrows shot up again and his whole body vibrated as he started to laugh. “Never mind. Why Happy?”

I shrugged, worried that he hated the name and was just being nice. To avoid those prying eyes I crouched down so I could rub the puppy’s pink little belly. “Because he was left at our office, left like he was nothing more than forgotten baggage. He was dropped off by someone that knows how difficult it is to find homes for pits in Denver and that didn’t care that his actions might result in the entire litter having to be put down. None of that matters to Happy. He still wags his tail. He still chases the ball. He gives kisses and isn’t afraid of anyone. He still manages to be happy.” I couldn’t even slightly remember what that felt like but I desperately wanted to.

Wheeler cleared his throat and pushed off the counter. He carefully stepped around me and made his way over to where his thoroughly chewed coat was resting on the back of the couch. At first I thought he hated the name, that he was going to tell me to pick something else. Instead, in that firm tone that never seemed to waver, he told me, “Happy it is. I’ll touch base with you tomorrow so we can set up some kind of schedule. Make yourself dinner and have a good night.” At first I recoiled, thinking he was making a subtle dig about the fact I was noticeably too skinny, but somewhere, some sense of rationality rose up and reminded me sternly that only moments ago he told me he thought I was pretty. I wondered if maybe that girl that hadn’t been broken was somewhere deep down inside of me still.

He flipped the lock on my door before he left and I knew without looking that he was waiting on the other side until he heard that I slid the chain in place and threw the dead bolt before he left. I leaned back against the door and let my head hit the wood with a heavy thud. The newly named Happy trotted over and plopped his fuzzy butt right on my feet as he looked up at me.

I hadn’t had a good night in ages. That being said, this one was as close as I’d gotten in longer than I could remember.

Sighing, I picked up the dog and made my way into the kitchen so I could make myself something to eat.

 

 

Wheeler


Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I honestly didn’t think you would.”

She used to be my everything; I would have done anything for her and tried my best to hand her the world. Now she was surprised I agreed to have coffee with her before I had to be at the shop. It was crazy how quickly things could change, including Kallie.

She’d always been the prettiest girl I had ever seen (until Poppy Cruz came wandering into my garage all golden-eyed and heartbroken). Kallie had the kind of easy and effortless all-American good looks that appealed instantly to a kid that always felt like he was on the outside of normal looking in. Her long blond hair was shiny and thick. Her baby-blue eyes were wide and guileless looking. Her skin was the perfect peaches and cream with a touch of freckles that was the only thing about her that matched her to her redheaded older sister. Dixie was short and curvy, Kallie was tall and thin with legs that went on for day and days. She turned heads then and she made men weak in the knees … not that it was male attention she was interested in attracting.