Maybe he’d tell Bailey that yes, he’d buy him a dog, but not till, say, Christmas. Or when he reached twenty-one.
Ketchup was awake and watching for her. He hopped stiffly out of his basket, balancing on three legs as he nudged her ankles. He had a world of worry in his eyes.
‘That makes two of us worried. But I don’t know why I am,’ she told him. ‘I don’t want them to move here. It’d cause complications.’
But she was lying. She did want them to move here. She wanted complications.
‘Only because I can’t have my yurt for a while longer,’ she muttered. ‘I need to let it go.’
She had let it go. And maybe she’d just let prospective tenants go.
‘I’ve pushed him too far,’ she told Ketchup.
Maybe he wasn’t as wealthy as the Internet suggested. She knew the guy who owned the house he was in. He’d have demanded rent in advance.
Nick was already paying an expensive veterinary bill. He hadn’t asked her how much she intended charging. Maybe… Maybe…
Maybe she was a complete fool. And the way he made her feel… What was she doing, hoping the phone would ring?
The phone rang.
She let it ring five times. It wouldn’t do to be eager.
On the sixth ring she lifted it. ‘Yes?’ She was gearing herself for a blunt refusal. Anger. Maybe he had the right to be angry.
‘You need to help me,’ Nick said, sounding goaded.
‘How can I do that?’
‘You need to help my son choose a dog,’ he said. ‘What time did you say this woman will be at the Shelter? And then you need to give me a key to your front door. I believe you have two new tenants. Three, if you count our new dog.’
CHAPTER SIX
NICK drove towards the Animal Shelter and beside him Bailey’s face glowed. He held his teddy, but he was looking forward, all eagerness, to what lay ahead.
‘A dog of my own,’ he whispered as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. ‘And living with Miss Lawrence…’
‘Next door to Miss Lawrence.’
‘I know,’ he said. ‘I’m getting a dog.’
Dogs had germs. Nick could still hear the echo of his mother’s horrified response when he’d asked for a dog thirty years ago.
Germs. Heartbreak. Loss. This was a risk-but Misty was right. He couldn’t protect his son from everything. He needed to loosen up.
And his son would be safe with Misty. The sensation that caused was wonderful. It was like going into freefall, but knowing the landing was assured. And maybe the landing was more wonderful than the fall itself.
For, dog or not, once he’d agreed to her conditions, he felt as if he was landing. He was finding a home for his son-with Misty.
He was finding a home beside Misty, he reminded himself, but that wasn’t how his body was thinking.
She’d teased him this morning. She’d backed him into a corner and she’d enjoyed doing it.
He’d been angry, frustrated, baffled-but he’d loved her doing it.
He turned the corner and she was already parked outside the Shelter. She was standing in the dappled sunlight under a vast gum tree, in her faded jeans, a sleeveless gingham shirt and old trainers. Her hair was caught back with a red ribbon and the sunlight was making her chestnut curls shine.
‘Isn’t she pretty?’ Bailey whispered and he could only agree.
Beautiful.
‘She has Ketchup,’ his son added, and Bailey was right. She had her dog in her arms. Why did she have him here?
‘We need Ketchup’s approval,’ she explained. ‘If these dogs are to live next door, we can’t have them growling at each other.’
‘I want a running dog,’ Bailey said.
‘Fast is good,’ Misty agreed. She wasn’t looking at Nick. Her attention was totally on Bailey and he was caught by the fact that he was sidelined.
From the time he’d won his first design prize, aged all of nineteen, Nick had moved among some of the wealthiest women in the world. His boat owners had money to burn and the boats he designed meant he had money to match them.
Women reacted to him. Even when he’d been married, women had taken notice of him. But now it was clear he came a poor second to his son and he thought the better of her for it.
More than that, the sensation had him feeling… Feeling…
Now’s hardly the time to think about how you’re feeling, he told himself. Not when you’re about to move next door to her. You’re here to choose a dog for your son.
‘Let’s get this over with,’ he muttered, and Misty looked at him in astonishment.
‘Don’t sound so severe. This isn’t a trip to the dentist.’
‘It might as well be.’
She’d started walking towards the Shelter but his words stopped her. She turned and met his gaze full on. Carefully, she set Ketchup down on the grass and she disengaged her hand from Bailey’s.
‘If you really don’t want a dog, then stop right now,’ she said, her voice suddenly steely. ‘The dogs in the Shelter have had a tough time-they’ve been abandoned already. They don’t want a half-hearted owner. Bailey, if your daddy doesn’t really want a dog, then of course I won’t insist. You can still share my house, and you and I can share Ketchup.’
She was angry?
She was definitely angry.
‘I got it wrong,’ she told him, still in that cold voice. ‘I thought it was just your stupid qualms about germs and risks. But if it’s more…say it now, Nicholas, and we’ll all go home. Bailey, if your father doesn’t really want a dog, honestly, could you be happy with Ketchup?’
Bailey stared up at her, surprised. He looked down at Ketchup, who looked back at him. Kid and dog.
‘Dad says we can have a dog,’ he whispered.
‘He needs to prove it. Why don’t we leave it for a bit so he can make up his mind? Owning your own dog is a big thing. I’m not sure your dad’s ready for it.’
He was a bright kid, was Bailey, and he knew the odds. He looked up at Nick and he tilted his chin. And then, surprisingly, he tucked his hand into Misty’s.
‘It’s okay,’ he told his father. He swallowed manfully. ‘Miss Lawrence and I can share looking after Ketchup.’ He sounded as if he was placating someone the same age as he was-or younger. ‘If you really, really, really don’t want a dog just for us, then it’s okay, Dad.’ He gulped and clutched his teddy.
It only needed this. Nick closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were still looking at him. Misty and Bailey. And Ketchup. Even Teddy.
If you really, really, really don’t want a dog just for us…
Misty’s gaze had lost its cool. Now she looked totally nonjudgmental. She’d backed right off. She’d given him a way out.
Behind them, a woman was emerging from the Shelter. Glancing across at them. Starting to lock up.
Was this Henrietta, finishing early? She was letting him off the hook as well.
He felt about six inches high.
What had he got himself into?
He glanced once more, at his son and his son’s teacher, and suddenly he knew exactly what he was getting into.
‘You want to go home?’ Misty asked and he shook his head.
‘I’m an idiot,’ he told her. And then… ‘Are you Henrietta?’ he called before any more of his stupid scruples could get in the way of what was looking more and more…he didn’t know what, but he surely intended to find out.
‘Yes,’ the woman called back, cautious.
‘Can you wait a moment before you lock up?’ he asked her. ‘If it’s okay with you… My son and I are here to see if we can choose a dog. We both want a dog and we’re hoping we can find one, right now. A dog that’s fast. A dog that’s young and a dog who can belong just to Bailey.’
And in the end it was easy.
Misty and Nick left things to Henrietta and Bailey. ‘Henrietta knows her dogs,’ Misty told Nick. ‘She won’t introduce him to one that’s unsuitable.’