“WhereisPoppy?” Jamie scanned the room. “Poppy Rose . . .” She turned to Clayton. “Where’s Duke?”
“He’s at my brother’s house.”
“Poppy!” Jamie called again, her voice sharp with panic. She spun in place, eyes darting around the room. Her chest tightened and she looked at Clayton. “Did you let her out?”
Clayton ran a hand through his hair, glancing toward the entryway. “Not that I know of.” He moved toward the hall, scanning the floor. “She couldn’t have gone too far, now.”
Jamie barely heard him. Her pulse hammered as she rushed to the door, yanking it open. A gust of cool air hit her face. “Poppy!” she shouted.
Silence.
Her heart lurched. No sound of tiny paws. No jingling collar. Just emptiness stretching beyond the porch. She spun back to Clayton, her breath shallow. “We have to find her. Now.”
Clayton grabbed his jacket, his expression shifting. “I’m on it.”
“Don’t worry, Miss Jamie,” Emily said. “We’ll help you find her.”
The girls hopped on their bikes and called the dog’s name. Clayton let out a sharp whistle, fingers hooked in his mouth. Jamie winced, clapping her hands over her ears.
“Let’s head over to Nolan’s,” Clayton suggested.
“Poppy’s never been there,” Jamie huffed, lowering her voice. “I can’t believe you let my dog out.”
“There’s no telling what happened.” Clayton’s long legs covered one stride for every two of hers. “Maybe she went looking for Duke.”
“I doubt it.” Jamie shook her head, striving to keep pace with him. “She has better taste than that.”
The twins pedaled down the dirt road as Jamie and Clayton called the dog’s name every few seconds. No answer. When they reached Nolan’s house the girls barely slowed down, dropping their bikes in the yard before dashing inside. Moments later they burst back outside, jumping up and down, their excitement unmistakable.
“Poppy’s in here!” Charlotte said. “Come quick!”
“Oh my God!” Jamie instantly feared the worst. If anything happened to her dog she would never forgive Clayton. Poppy was the first being to love her unconditionally.
She ran into the house and found Nolan holding her dog.
“Poppy Rose!” she exclaimed, gently prying her from Nolan’s grasp. “Are you okay?” She examined her body for cuts or scratches while the dog licked her face, tail wagging enthusiastically.
“I called you,” Nolan said to his brother as he stepped inside the house, “but your phone went straight to voicemail.”
“Do you get a signal out here?” Jamie checked her phone and saw the 5G working. “Is anything wrong with Poppy?” she asked the vet desperately.
Nolan chuckled. “No, nothing’s wrong.” He pointed at Duke, who was curled up beside an identical Labrador Retriever. “She’s pregnant. I’d estimate about two or three weeks along, based on the pregnancy test I gave her.”
“What?” Jamie asked, bewildered. It must have been an immaculate conception since she was sure she’d been spayed. “What do you mean she’s pregnant? She hasn’t been—” She glared at Duke and pursed her lips. “I’m going to kill you, Clayton.”
Jamie said goodbye to the girls and stormed out of the house, too angry at Clayton to see straight. In just a week her life had spiraled into chaos—Derrick was fake-dating someone barely out of high school, her perfect poodle was having puppies with the dumbest dog on the planet, and somehow she had a number-one country song with Old Hickory.
Could her life get any worse?
She power-walked back to Clayton’s house, cradling Poppy against her chest like a lifeline. Her heart pounded in time with her hurried steps, her mind a storm of anger, humiliation, and disappointment.
The second she stepped inside she made a beeline for the phone. Forget waiting. Forget cooling off. She needed out. She grabbed the landline and punched in Ruth’s number with sharp, stabbing jabs.
Her pulse hammered as the dial tone rang in her ear.Pick up, pick up, pick up.
She couldn’t stay here another second. Not with him. Not in a place that smelled like him, where his voice still lingered in the air. She needed to be anywhere but here—preferably in Shorty’s condominium, curled up on the couch, shoveling popcorn into her mouth while people with too much hair product made bad decisions on reality dating shows.
“What’s up, boss?” Ruth answered, her tone cheerful.
