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.”
Dakota did not get to take this away from her kids. They had something they loved, and Rachel would fight for their right to hang on to it. Even if the thing they loved was actually two things that enjoyed peeing on the carpet.
“I didn’t know Dakota paid your mortgage.” Rachel happened to know that she didn’t. Even since their engagement, Dakota kept her separate apartment on Speer Boulevard downtown.
“Rach.”
“Gavin.”
Yep, that was a touch of snark coming out in Rachel’s tone, which wasn’t the usual, since she normally liked Dakota. Sometimes she had to say it over and over again to convince herself, but there were all kinds of people and all types of friends. She and Dakota weren’t the kind of friends who would hang out at the neighborhood park on Sundays drinking margaritas together, but they’d say hello and swap stories if they saw each other at the grocery store.
Unless it was the produce department. Rachel probably didn’t want to watch how Dakota picked out vegetables, so she’d definitely have to hightail it to the dairy aisle.
Dakota didn’t eat dairy.
“Rach, I’m in need of a little help here.” Gavin adjusted his stance, and she waited not-so-patiently to see which direction he’d be taking this.
Her guess was that he’d either go with a giant heaping of the Gavin magnetism, also known occasionally as the Frank charm because all the brothers employed this technique, or he’d go with the sad, puppy dog eyes. Which, she would be remiss not to note, would be total bullshit, given he was trying to convince her they needed to re-home the puppies that he’d saddled their family with.
“Okay, look, here’s how it’s going to go, because I’m not bending on this,” Rachel announced because Gavin was seriously eating into her Sunday morning girl time. “I didn’t want the dogs to begin with, but they’re here. The kids love them, they’ve already had enough instability in their lives, and so we’re not taking them away. I’m not taking them away. And I still stand by my previous assertion that where the boys go, the dogs go. If Dakota has a problem with that, she’s going to have to sort that out with you.”
“Hey, guys.” Molly bounced up beside Rachel. Deftly, she snatched the leashes and, somehow, simultaneously slipped Rachel’s travel mug into her hand. “I’ll grab these two so you guys can chat without getting peed on.” Molly continued under her breath, “Like Gavin’s carpet.”
Normally, Rachel would’ve told her to be nice. But today wasn’t a normal day.
“Thanks,” Rachel said, disentangling her feet from where the dogs had gone this way and that, thus creating a medley of leash tangle around her legs.
Molly hauled the mini-mutts away. Gavin said nothing.
Rachel toyed with the lid of her margarita mug, flipping open the top, then snapping it closed. Open. Closed. Open. Closed. Click. Click. Click.
Gavin still said nothing. He stood there looking perplexed and staring at the dogs.
“Okay, good chat,” Rachel finally said, because whatever was going on between Gavin and Dakota was seriously interfering with her morning. “See you later this week?”
