He’s talking deep within the park. There is an expansive area that is only accessible by sled dogs in the winter, where anything motorized is banned.
He inhales deeply, as if that’ll expel the weight of the topic. “How’s our friend Harry doing, by the way?”
“Harry? I have no idea. I guess you haven’t heard?” I assumed everyone would have by now.
Tyler frowns. “Heard what?”
“I’m no longer the Hatchett Kennels’ veterinarian.”
His eyebrows arch. “Are you kidding me? Since when?”
I hesitate.
Tyler’s head falls back. “Since you took me on, and he found out.” The muscles in his jaw clench. “What a little shithead.”
“It was going to happen eventually.” Tyler’s rage reminds me of Jonah’s, and it’s oddly satisfying. “Things have not been going well for Harry, and he’s looking for everyone else to blame so he doesn’t have to take responsibility. Let him learn the hard way how good he had it.” I just hope it’s not at the dogs’ expense.
“Do you know who he went to?”
I clear my throat. “From what I’ve heard … Frank Hartley.”
Tyler’s bellow of laughter echoes through the night. Across the property, through the open windows, Yukon and Bentley howl in response.
“Shhh!” I give his boot a playful kick. “You’ll wake my parents.” My dad has no doubt fallen asleep in his chair watching TV.
“It’s been awhile since I’ve had to worry about that.” Tyler shifts to peek through the window behind him. The curtains are open, and the lamp inside casts enough light to see most everything—the kitchenette, the couch, my bed in the back. “I meant to ask, whatever happened with your friend after last weekend?”
“Who, Jonah?” I shake my head. “Nothing.” I dropped off flowers and nonalcoholic wine the next day, apologized for ducking out before I had a chance to congratulate them, Jonah pestered me about making out with Tyler in the parking lot—he obviously made a sharp turn back the way he came and missed the worst of it—and that was that. If he or Calla suspected there was more to it than some rush of hormones between Tyler and me, they never hinted at it. Besides, Jonah’s too busy bouncing around their place and measuring one of the spare rooms for the nursery to think about anything else.
“So, it worked, then?”
“Seemed to.” Too well, because all I’ve been thinking about all week is the feel of Tyler’s mouth and hands on me, and him, inside me.
Wishing for an excuse to experience it again.
Right now would be ideal.
A heady mood settles over the space within my screened-in porch, intensifying with each passing moment. Is that why he’s here?
It can’t go that far, anyway, I remind myself. My period came yesterday morning. Still, I can think of a dozen ways I’d like to touch him.
I check the monitor for a distraction from my illicit thoughts.
Tyler must take that as his sign to leave because he eases out of his chair with a stretch. “I should get going. Reed’s been home alone all day.”
Disappointment bursts within me, but I tamp it down. “You need to bring him out more. He should make some friends.”
“You try telling him that. The guy’s not too keen on meeting new people. I think he’d honestly rather be out there in the woods alone with the dogs.”
“Bring him around the Ale House on a weekend next time you go.”
“I think that owner would send him into hiding for the next decade.”
“Muriel?” I laugh. “Nah. She’d put him to work.”
Tyler finishes the last of his beer and then sets the remaining cans on the table by my feet.
“For me? How sweet.”
“It’s the least I could do after showing up here and making you cut off a dog’s leg.”
“Not just a dog. The most famous dog I might ever meet. But at least I’ll get paid in full.” I’ve always hated thinking about my patients in terms of money, but everyone around me does. Maybe that’s where I’ve gone wrong all these years.
Tyler moves for the door but then stalls, his brow furrowed. “I’m sorry about Harry. I know you said you needed the money from his kennel.”
“He needs me more. He’ll be back.” I don’t necessarily believe it, but if there’s one thing I hate showing, it’s vulnerability.
“Make him beg.”