Was it wrong to envy her friend his intact and emotionally invested family?

  Greg’s parents excused themselves to the restroom while they waited for after-dinner coffees, and when Greg leaned toward her, she braced herself for a sexual barrage. Was eager for the distraction. And the connection.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked instead.

  Did he have to see everything? Wanting to give him a nonchalant Nothing, she heard herself say, “Watching you with your parents, hearing you all talk about your sisters—the way your dad sits there quietly but is like the glue that binds your book—it makes me think that what I thought was a perfect family before my brother got injured probably wasn’t. What you all have, it would have weathered Michael’s injuries. And might even have been strong enough to handle his demons...”

  “You don’t know that.”

  He was right. She didn’t. But it made sense to her in a way nothing had in a very long time. Maybe Greg wasn’t the only one who’d been carrying around false images of himself.

  As they were waiting for the bill, the talk turned to Goldie, who was still at Wendy’s office. Greg’s mom, Dianne, asked after her, admitting that she’d heard about the dog from Birdie and Bunny that afternoon when she’d visited with the sisters. Wendy had told Bethany about her newest houseguest when she’d stopped in to arrange for Jedi’s permanent adoption, and it seemed that Bethany had shared the news with the Whitaker sisters.

  “I’ve been bringing her to work every day,” Wendy said. “She’s used to being with her owner 24-7, and I don’t want to leave her alone too much.”

  “You’re planning to keep her, then?” After an hour in the woman’s company, Wendy found Dianne’s questions more of a compliment than an intrusion. Greg’s mother clearly looked after those in her sphere. Besides, it was nice to have someone so interested in learning everything about her.

  She shook her head immediately. She’d thought about getting a dog, but having lost Jedi...she just didn’t think she was ready. Besides... “She’ll be happier working,” Wendy stated the deciding factor, not the other elements that had also contributed to her decision. “I’ve been looking all week and was thinking—” she looked at Randolph “—that maybe you’d know someone...”

  She glanced at Greg, who was studying her with some intent, and switched her attention immediately back to his father. Randolph said he’d be on the watch for someone who’d need the dog as much as the dog needed a home.

  “Randolph and I...we’re both huge believers in what you’re doing,” Dianne said then, wearing a smile that seemed to encompass the entire table. “Having met Jedi, we can see what a gift a dog like that would be.”

  “Speaking of which,” Randolph said, “how did things go with Duke yesterday?”

  “Same as always,” Greg shrugged, but then grinned. “He moved his fingers on Jedi, though. Three weeks in a row now.”

  Wendy had already heard the news through text message the day before. And...it hit her.

  “Wait,” she blurted out so loudly people at the next table glanced over. For a place that exuded elegance, she’d been a bit brass. She didn’t even care. “You said Duke’s sister—Julie, I think?—lives alone...”

  “That’s right,” Greg confirmed.

  “Is she a dog person?” Wendy asked excitedly.

  Greg, still looking bewildered, nodded. “I know they had one growing up. And she took in Duke’s collie when he left for the service. Chappy died more than five years ago, but—”

  “Goldie!” Wendy said, with a glance toward the elder Martins again. “You said Julie visits Duke every evening. If she brought Goldie with her, then the dog would get her service time but not have to be on the job 24-7 anymore, which would be better for her at her age. And Duke...right now he gets Jedi once a week, but what if he had a dog every single day?” She paused, briefly, as her heart contracted at the thought of losing the companion who’d been sharing her bed for over a week, but she pushed forward. “And Julie would have a housemate trained to pay attention to her, to give her back some of the caring she gives so faithfully to her brother.” Just the thought of giving a veteran’s sister a piece of love and loyalty while she served her brother... It made Wendy’s world right. And if, by some miracle, Goldie could help Duke...

  “I think it’s a great idea!” Dianne’s voice filled the void where Greg’s should have been.

  After a couple of seconds, her son said, “I’ll give Julie a call, if you’d like...”

  Wendy heard the hesitation in Greg’s voice, but her nod, her smile...she couldn’t contain them. She understood what it was to be a sister to an injured veteran. She knew how hard it was to see him suffer. Knew the need to be by his side every day.

  Maybe it wouldn’t happen. Maybe Julie wouldn’t want a dog. And Wendy would get to keep Goldie a while longer.

  But despite her sadness at the thought of saying goodbye to the animal, she was full of joy and excitement at the idea that she’d be able to help someone else who’d also lost the brother she’d known. It felt like she’d come full circle. Was a part of the circle.

  For that little piece of time, it felt like Greg’s family was a part of the circle, too. Like she was a part of them.

  And that made it a happy moment.

  * * *

  After a couple of nights without sex with Wendy, Greg made it to three orgasms Friday night. Their lives were moment to moment, and he was going to make those moments the absolute best they could be. He slid off of her that last time with deep regret but also satiated in ways that went far beyond the physical.

  “You could stay.” Her words weren’t a question. Nor were they a command. They weren’t even a suggestion, really. Just an audible declaration of what would always be there, hanging in the air between them. “You’ve got Jedi.”

  Now, that was more in the way of persuasion, and he couldn’t fall prey to that.

  He wanted to. God, how he wanted to!

  “And you have to be back in the morning, anyway...”

  They were taking Goldie to Julie in the morning. Meeting Duke’s sister in Duke’s room, actually, as she was spending a good part of the day there to watch a baseball doubleheader with her brother and Wendy thought that would be a great time to introduce Goldie to her new people. It would give the three of them a chance to spend their first hours as a family bonding all together.

  He sat up. “We can’t keep doing this if we can’t accept it for what it is,” he said, his heart heavy.

  She didn’t want to be left. He got it. And knew that she needed to be with someone who could give her what she needed. What she deserved.

  They both knew that couldn’t be him.

  He was just one more continuous leaver, strengthening her sense that being left was normal...

  Wendy scooted up beside him, propped on a pillow, their naked bodies a foot apart as she held the covers to her chest.

  As though he didn’t know every single inch of those breasts...their feel, their taste, their scent.

  But probably a good call to take away temptation.

  His job was to help her open her heart enough to let in the man who was meant for her. He’d been doing a pretty damned bad job at it.

  Sure, he could have sex with her until the other guy showed up, but his leaving every time was entirely counterproductive to the end goal.

  Him loving and leaving was another nail on the boards around her heart every single time.

  “You could sleep on the couch.” Her words came softly, but not tentatively. “Just for tonight, not as a way of life,” she quickly amended before he even had a chance to glance her way.

  He didn’t look, though he’d been about to. Instead, he tried to sit there naked with her and weigh the pros and cons of her suggestion against the ultimate objective.

  “Do you ever sleepwalk when you have nightmares?” she asked.

  He nodded, still back on her previous statement. And then he answered, “Not in a while,” when he caught up to where she was going with the question.

  “I could lock this door, if that would make you feel better. And...you have Jedi.”

  He knew what she was doing. But he had to think about what he was doing. More to the point, what he didn’t seem to be doing well. He was holding on to her, which was the last thing she needed.

  The other night with his parents, she’d seemed to settle right into being a daughter figure, treating them like parents—not her own, but the parents of a friend. There was something in the note of her voice, the way she’d looked at them...he couldn’t really place it. Maybe it boiled down to respect.

  He was getting off track. Letting her confuse him.

  If he stayed once, she’d want him to stay again. And before you knew it, he’d be bringing things to leave in her house. Having her bring things to his home to leave in his spare room.

  One of the six of them.

  How did being in the moment start so clean and get so messy so quickly?

  “Has Jedi been sleeping on the bed with you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you had any more nightmares?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  She nudged his shoulder, and he finally glanced her way. “How can you not be sure?” she asked, their faces so close he could see the lightest green glints dotting her eyes.

  “He woke me once. I don’t remember a nightmare, but it could have been starting...” He couldn’t get his hopes up. There were no miracle cures. “He could also just have been stretching or scratching an itch.”

  “How did he wake you?”

  She knew too much. “He whined,” Greg admitted. Service dogs were trained to whine when they perceived nightmares and to keep their distance from a sleeping owner. “But you know how he gives that whine when he’s scratching sometimes. And his stretching sigh sounds a lot like a whine.”

  All true. And necessary for them to keep in mind.

  “Your parents stayed with you...”

  And suddenly things started to make sense. She thought that since they’d stayed in the same house—maybe because of Jedi’s introduction to his life—that the circumstances were changing. “They stay in a guest wing. It has its own outside entrance with a dead-bolt lock on the door connecting to the rest of the residence.”

  He waited for more—and he felt deflated, in spite of himself, when it didn’t come. It felt like she’d run out of chances for him.

  That was his cue to move in with his own responsibilities. “Do you want kids?”

  The question was too personal for their in-the-moment coupling, and he knew it probably sounded abrupt and out of nowhere to her. He just didn’t know any other way to get her to reach for more than what she had.

  “It’s not a likely possibility for me.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “I don’t ask, Greg.” Her emphasis was clear.

  “Maybe you should.”

  “Why? It’s like wanting to have wings because it would be cool to be able to fly...”

  “Not really.” He knew he was pushing, but he couldn’t stop. “If you don’t ask, you limit who you can be, what you can become.” Her wing comment hit so close to home, he knew he was doing the right thing. He’d asked himself years before when the only life he’d ever envisioned had been taken from him. He’d been trying to picture what could possibly come next, and the only thing that had sounded at all fulfilling to him had been a life in the sky. He’d wanted to fly. He hadn’t had wings. But he’d bought some...

  “What’s the point here?” Her voice was growing querulous.

  The point was to get her to ask herself for more. To help her fight for what she wanted or needed. To fight for her greatest happiness.

  “It was a simple enough question. Could you be a good mother? Do you want that for your life?”

  “Of course.” Sounding affronted, she shot the answer out with no hesitation.

  And he knew he’d just taken the first step toward losing her to a man who could give her everything she needed.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Greg didn’t stay. After the whole pregnancy discussion, she was kind of relieved to have him gone. To have her space comfortably and securely to herself again.

  Taking a long hot shower, she let the troubles of the world wash off her. She gave up the worry and fear and heartache, too, for the time she stood there and just reveled in the relaxing, physical pleasure. Even humming for a second or two.

  She liked being alone. Liked the control she had of her world when she was alone.

  Then she got out of the shower. Saw Goldie lying in the middle of the bathroom floor, waiting for her, and started to cry.

  She’d only had the Lab for a short time, but she was going to miss her, that was for sure.

  She was also incredibly excited at the thought of Julie and Duke gaining the Lab as a family member. They had real joy coming their way, and that far, far outweighed her small bit of sadness.

  At least, her sadness over losing Goldie. Her sadness over Greg, on the other hand, felt like it might just be beginning. Because while they’d agreed to continue what they had, he seemed to be looking for any excuse to pull away.

  If she got pregnant somehow, would she keep the child?

  Would she be a good mother?

  Of course.

  That didn’t mean she wanted kids.

  She didn’t.

  Hadn’t even thought about it until Greg practically forced the question into her mind.

  She wasn’t going to turn up pregnant. She and Greg used condoms. Carefully. Every single time.

  But...had she ever thought she wanted kids?

  Maybe, as a pubescent teen, right after her cycle had started.

  Before Michael came home.

  How did you think about having children when you had no family to bring them into?

  In flannel pants and a cutoff T-shirt she wandered around her rented home—rented so there’d be no worry about getting so attached that her soul got ripped if she lost it—and pushed back at the questions Greg had raised. What was he after? What answers had he expected from her? Did he want to rub it in that even if she’d be a good mother, she’d be raising the child entirely on her own?

  She didn’t have a Randolph and Dianne and irritating sisters to love a kid to death.

  The only family she had left to give a kid was her dad.

  In her living room, pulling her bare feet onto the couch with her—her own couch, albeit second hand—she dialed her father’s cell. Wherever he was, it wasn’t in the States, so it was likely that it was not the middle of the night. She’d listen to his voice on his voice mail. Leave a message.

  He wouldn’t call back anytime soon.

  But he’d acknowledge that she’d called when he finally did.

  Or he’d text.

  “Hello?”

  Wendy gulped, started curling her fingers around her toes like she used to do sitting on the floor waiting to open presents on Christmas morning. “Papa?”

  “Hija mia! Everything okay?”

  “Yep. Fine! I’m starting a new business.”

  “That’s nice! I’m sure you’ll do well at it. How’s your weather there?”

  “Good. Warm.” Dark, moonless, but the sun was supposed to be up in the morning... “How about there?”

  “Sunny.”

  That was it. No details.

  “Where are you?”

  “Heading toward the UK,” he said, sounding as though something else had just grabbed his attention. “We’re supposed to be docking later this afternoon.”

  United Kingdom. Not even a specific country. Seemed like a world away.

  “So, if everything’s okay, I should probably...”

  “You ever wish you had grandchildren, Papa?” she interrupted his sign-off, holding her breath, even as she knew that she was just setting herself up for disappointment. It was incredibly unlikely that he’d give her the answer she actually wanted to hear.

  “Nah,” he told her, just as she’d figured he would. “You aren’t pregnant, are you?” She suddenly seemed to have his full attention.

  “Would it bother you if I was?”

  “Of course not! You’re a grown woman.”

  “Would you like it if I was? If I got pregnant somehow, would you want me to keep the child?”

  “If it’s what you wanted.”

  Would you be a good grandpapa? The question hung there. She didn’t ask it. To do so would be unfair. Her dad was who he was.

  He didn’t get that he wasn’t who she needed him to be.

  Or if he did, he didn’t seem able or willing to change that.

  “I love you, Papa.”

  “Love you, too, Princesa...”

  And that was that.

  * * *

  Greg should have known that it didn’t bode well that Wendy came out of her house with a forty-ounce-sized travel mug of coffee Saturday morning. As previously arranged, he’d brought Jedi to stay at her house while they transported Goldie to Duke’s, as the dog seemed much more comfortable alone in the smaller space. Greg had yet to leave the pup alone at his place.

  She didn’t offer Greg any coffee, just helped Goldie up into the back seat of his SUV, climbed into the front passenger seat, buckled herself in and sipped at her mug. In capri pants and a Furever Paws short-sleeved T-shirt, her hair neatly braided and bangs straight, she looked lovely and put together, and yet she somehow still seemed...off.

  “Rough night?”

  “Nope.” Her tone expressly discouraged further questioning on the matter.

  Okay, then. She wasn’t in a talking mood. He’d hoped to discuss some new ideas he’d come up with for the business, but if she wanted silence, he would comply.