“Delaney is going to freak when I tell her about this,” she whispered, her hands glidin’ along the surfaces in a reverential way.
After a couple hours, she was ready to go. I took her hand and we started to explore. A woman and a young boy sat on the side of the street with a large box. Four ears attached to two separate heads popped out of it.
“Cian!” Maeve stopped, even though I tried to get her to keep walkin’. “Look at them! Hi! Hi, babies!” She was tryin’ to pet both of the Irish wolfhound puppies at once.
I took a step back, crossin’ my arms over my chest.
“Siblings,” the woman said. “Last two left in the litter. Can’t afford to keep them.”
“They’re so cute!” Maeve seemed to gush out, like she was overflowin’ with emotion or somethin’. “Aren’t you, babies?”
“All we ask is fifty dollars—for both. Just to make sure they go to a good home. My boy here is worried about them.”
Maeve picked up a wigglin’ puppy and brought it closer to me. I took a step back. I had to kill the impulse to close my eyes and steady my breathin’. It was like the past was back and smellin’ like dog breath.
“It would be so nice to keep them, Cian. You have so much room at the castle.”
“Castle?” the kid said, his brows furrowin’. “You have a proper castle?”
“He does!”
“Wedo,” I barely got out.
Maeve nodded. Then her eyes lowered, studyin’ me. I wiped sweat from my brow. She was inchin’ inside of me even deeper.
“Are you afraid of dogs?” she whispered.
Only what they represented in my memories.
She took a step closer. I took a step back.
The puppy’s tongue hung out, and its tail was waggin’.
“Sir,” the kid said. “If you don’t take them…we’ll be forced to take them to the shelter. I don’t want to see that happen. And if you have a proper castle…I know they’ll love it.”
His mam took him by the shoulder and pulled him back. “Manners!” she scolded. Then she called him by my middle name.
Maeve’s eyes widened. “Spelled with a C or K?”
I held my breath.
“C,” the woman said.
I couldn’t tell if this entire situation was a blessin’ or a curse.
Maeve looked at me and then at the family. She bent down to put the dog with its brother. She started laughin’ when the male started to jump and lick her.
I was about to tell him to get his ball-lickin’ tongue and filthy paws off my wife but was sidetracked by Maeve politely tellin’ the kid we couldn’t take them.
It was the first time I’d ever heard disappointment in her voice. It punched me in the chest like a heavy weight.
“You truly want them, Maeve?”
She stood and shook her head. She was about to tell me a lie to protect me—she knew the dogs made me uncomfortable, even if she didn’t know why.
“Tell me the truth or be silent,” I said.
She stilled. She seemed to think about what I’d just said. “I do. I want them.Wehave the room. And I’ve always wanted a puppy. My dad carved me one. But it’s definitely not the same.”
