“Wow, thanks. Well, I would love to go.” Devon rubbed his belly like he was soothing himself.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. He’s just kicking my ribs. It’s like he’s trying to punish me for something.”
“No, not punish you. Maybe he’s trying to encourage you.”
Devon blinked at him. “Encourage me? To do what?”
Laird tried to think of anything and finallysettled on, “Kiss me. I’m sure that’s what it is. He knows that I’m in desperate need of a kiss.”
Devon started laughing, but he did get a kiss that was actually quite enthusiastic. “I like the way your son thinks.”
“Right? Me too. It’s like he knows me or something.”
They both started laughing again, the sound just kind of rollicking between them.
As they kissed, there was this sound that made him stop even as Devon pulled back.
“What was that?”
It was like a weird chirping type of sound, and Laird felt as if it was coming from in the yard.
“I don’t know if you can hear it, but it’s coming from outside.”
“I hear it.” And they needed to find out what it was.
“I don’t like it. Maybe it’s a little bird that got knocked down from the rain.” Devon levered himself up, so he stood, and they both headed to the front door.
The sound was louder out here for sure, and it sounded strange, almost like a cry.
“I don’t like this, Laird,” Devon repeated. “Find out what it is.”
“I’m working on it, babe. I’m working on it.”
“Do you want an umbrella?” There was one sitting by the door, and Devon handed it over, so he popped it open and wandered down the stairs, searching.
It was definitely louder down here. “It’s coming from underneath the stairs.”
He bent down. He needed to put some kind of a siding or fencing or latticework or something so that when their baby started crawling, he couldn’t possibly get in here.
He blinked, trying to focus. “Good lord, are you a dog or a rat?”
The tiny creature was no bigger than a minute, but as soon as he held his hand down, it came right to him. It was a little dog—tiny and fuzzy.
“Laird? What is it?”
“I think it’s a puppy, either that or it’s a really hairy white rat.”
“Shut up. Don’t you say that. Bring it up here, and let me go grab some towels.”
Laird kept the puppy close until Devon arrived, towels in hand to wrap it up close.
“The little thing’s shivering. It’s just tiny and fuzzy. Let’s get it warm—do you think we should wash it?” Devon pulled back one of the towels. “Yeah, he’s muddy. She’s muddy. It’s muddy. Let’s get it washed off. I mean, it’s already wet, right? And then we can dry him off and give him some food.”
The little beast was pure white with this black nose and black eyes. It couldn’t even weigh two pounds.
Laird had never seen anything like it, because his family tended toward Labs and that kind of dog if they were going to have one. But God, it was like a drowned rat and it needed help.
