“Gavin?” Rachel asked as he wrangled with the two leashes holding the pups.
“I know. I’m early.” The guy looked beat. Like he’d not had Travis bring him evening margaritas.
He held out the leashes for the dogs and Rachel took them.
“I…” He shoved his hands through his hair. He had dark hair like Travis, but Gavin’s was a bit longer around the ears. The kind of haircut that took extra maintenance to make it seem like it didn’t.
“Are you okay?” she asked, because he didn’t really look okay.
“Last night was…” He studied the grass.
“Two-kids-and-two-puppies hard?” she responded.
He glanced up then. “I fucked up with the whole puppy thing.”
No kidding.
“It is what it is, Gav.” She held the leashes so the dogs couldn’t run off,and they settled at her feet.
A long pause descended over them. He had something he wanted to say, she could feel it. For some reason, he wasn’t spilling it. And, since she had no idea what he wanted to share, she didn’t speak either.
“How are we going to tell them?” he asked finally.
She shifted the leashes so they rested more comfortably in her hands. “Tell who what?”
“Tell the boys that the dogs have to go back to the breeder,” he said.
Um, that was not happening. No takesie backsies when you give puppies to a couple of eight-year-old boys.
“Gavin, that’s not how this works. You gave the boys a gift. It was a ridiculous gift. Now we have to make it work.”
Gavin stared at the grass surrounding his feet as though he were holding the conversation with the individual blades instead of Rachel. “Dakota asked that the dogs not come back to the house.”
Say, what? Rachel didn’t say anything because she couldn’t get her mouth to move, such was the shock running through her bloodstream.
Her mind made several suggestions as to what she could say to him…
She should’ve made that call before you both purchased the dogs.
Yes, I totally agree, what’s the number for the breeder?
That’s not her call to make.
The boys love them and we’re not messing that up.
“I’m sorry, I think I misunderstood you.” She settled on those words,since they seemed the least confrontational and, presently, she wasn’t trying to be a jerk.
The pups were done holding still,and they started to pull on the leashes toward the mommy picnic ten feet away.
Rachel held tight.
To be honest, holding on tight when things were falling apart was what she did best.
“They peed on the rug.” Gavin looked torn between good intentions and the bad outcomes of making not-so-good choices. “Ten times. They peed more inside than they did outside.”
“Did you contain them to a small area?” Rachel asked. They had been doing better at her house once she sequestered them in the dining room.
“Dakota said they can’t come back.”
