Rebecca burst into a laugh, her hand going to her mouth. “Oh my God, that is the saddest, most obnoxious sound I’ve ever heard. He sounds so heartbroken.”
“He’s quite dramatic,” Marco said with an affectionate smirk.
“Aww, don’t cry, Knight,” Wes announced. “Your new mom is here!”
“Stop.” Rebecca smacked Wes’s arm, earning a lifted brow from his brother. A brow that seemed to say, So you’re still doing this?
Wes gave him a back-off look.
Rebecca crouched next to the kennel, oblivious to the silent argument between the brothers. “Hey there, cutie pie. You ready to go home? Huh? You ready?”
Wes bit his lip at the baby-talk tone Rebecca used and tried not to laugh. He would’ve bet money she wasn’t capable of such behavior, but the tough lawyer dissolved into a pile of mushy words at the sight of the happy dog.
Knight, who’d graduated out of the head cone, got to his feet, his tail banging against the side of the kennel, and went from howling to whining and snuffling.
“He’s made a great recovery and can do all the normal things,” Marco reported. “But his body is still recuperating from all that healing work, so he’ll probably tire out quickly. Don’t let him get too confident.”
Marco gave Wes a pointed look.
Wes sniffed. “I think he’s ready to take on the world.”
Marco reached down and unhooked the latch on the door. But before he could loop the leash over Knight’s head, the dog barreled out of the kennel and launched himself at Rebecca. His big paws landed on her shoulders, and he knocked her right onto her butt, licking her face like she was made of bacon.
Wes jumped forward to help, but Rebecca was hugging the dog and laughing while trying to turn her head and avoid the slobbery onslaught.
Marco managed to get the collar and leash on and tugged Knight back. “Calm down, boy. Sit. Sit.”
Knight eventually yielded but didn’t look happy about it, and the high-pitched whining started again.
Wes squatted down and ruffled the fur on Knight’s fluffy head. “Yeah, man, you got to slow it down. Woo her a little first. Buy her dinner before you try to kiss her. I recommend Indian food. And fancy cheese.”
Knight barked.
Rebecca laughed. “Try Italian. That’s his favorite. He pilfered garlic bread from me the night we met.”
Knight panted and bumped Rebecca’s knee with his snout. She sighed and petted him as she looked to Wes. “I’m so done, aren’t I?”
Wes smiled, warmth sliding through him. “Absolute toast, lawyer girl.”
Or maybe that was just Wes.
* * *
Rebecca collapsed onto a stool at her kitchen counter and glanced at the clock—half past seven. She’d called Child Protective Services a little earlier while she was walking Knight and couldn’t help wondering if the authorities had headed to Steven’s place yet. Her nerves were brittle, but she tried to shove the thoughts to the back of her mind because she’d done all she could for now. The proper channels had been notified.
At least about the abuse. She hadn’t said a word about the robbery.
She let out a sigh, mentally exhausted and physically drained, her muscles sapped from the bus scrubbing, a harrowing walk with Knight, and a too-hot shower to wash off all the grime. But Wes had no idea what was going on yet, so she tried to keep her tone light. “Well, if nothing else, I’m going to be able to eat extra dessert now. Knight’s going to be like having a gym membership.”
Wes smirked from his spot in front of her stove and slid her a bottle of water. His hair was still a little damp from the shower he’d grabbed while she’d walked Knight, and he looked downright edible. She hated that she’d had to keep something from him, but his obligation to report had no gray area. If she was ever pressed for why she waited hours to report, she could claim attorney-client privilege since she’d offered to represent Steven and there wasn’t an urgent threat of substantial bodily harm. Steven was going home to an empty house. No immediate threat. But Wes was Steven’s teacher. He would’ve had to report any kind of abuse immediately, no fine print. She couldn’t have told him before the seven o’clock deadline. And now she just needed a break from it all.
“And that’s Knight in recovery mode,” Wes said. “Imagine how long he’s going to want to walk when he’s fully healed up.”
“I’m trying not to think about that.” She opened the bottle and took a grateful gulp of water. “He hates the leash. Kept trying to back out of it and shake it off. But I’ve got news for him. I’ve watched The Dog Whisperer. I’m prepared to show him who’s boss. And if nothing else, I can outlast him for now. He’s snoring in his kennel.”
Wes flipped a kitchen towel over his shoulder and grinned. “Strays aren’t used to taking orders from anyone. Just ask Ed and Carolina. I don’t know why they didn’t ship me off to military school within the first few weeks of when I arrived at their place. But smart strays also know a good gig when we see one. I have no doubt Knight will shape up and give in once he realizes how sweet he’s got it now.” He dipped a wooden spoon into the sauce he was making. “Here, taste this. I didn’t have the ingredients to do a proper spaghetti sauce, but I doctored up your jarred one.”
She leaned forward, blowing on the steaming sauce and then tasting it. The spicy, garlicky flavor made her stomach rumble for more. “Damn. That’s good. You definitely have a gift. I eat that sauce at least once a week, and it tastes nothing like that. What’s that smoky flavor?”