And the two of them? They disappeared, trotted alongside the road, Frankie screeching her joy, Rynna right there in case the puppy tugged hard enough to get loose.
Thirty minutes later, I watched as Frankie ran with the puppy nipping along at her heels through Rynna’s front door. Rynna stood on the same deck that had changed everything, hugging her arms across her chest and biting at her lip as she watched the two of them bound inside.
I’d held back, standing against the railing, unable to process what was going on inside me.
I edged up behind her. I could feel it. The chill that skated her spine, the way she shook as I released a breath against her ear. A few strands of chestnut rustled with the air and tickled my lips. “A dog, huh?” I whispered.
There was a swift intake of breath before she cautiously turned around to face me. “I . . .” She glanced back at the house. “I’m living here alone, and I thought I could use a friend. It gets lonely at night.”
She turned around to face me fully. Bewilderment twitched along her brow. “Do you not like dogs?”
A vice of grief wrenched up my insides. I was right. Ever since Rynna Dayne had come into my life, every old wound had been unbound, released from its confines, spinning and taunting me where they danced right under my nose.
“Of course I like dogs.” Could barely force it out through the hardness that ridged my lips.
Longing twisted through her features when she glanced back at the door, looking back at me like she was begging for me to understand. “I know you and I are new. But Frankie . . . I saw that puppy and the only thing I could think about was her. About how excited she would be. I . . . I wanted to give her something she didn’t have.” Rapidly she blinked, and tears threatened at her eyes. “I wanted her to love something that’s a part of me. Are you mad?”
I couldn’t hold back anymore. I jerked her against me. “Fuck, Rynna. Of course I’m not mad.”
I hugged her tight. Kissed the crown of her head. Wishing I could explain how it brought back memories I didn’t know how to deal with.
I was numb as I stood by the side of the road, staring blankly as the taillights disappeared in the distance. I tried to blink through the squiggle of red, neon lines that lit up against my bleary vision. It was like looking at the sun and then closing your eyes. Or maybe I just wished they were closed. But they were open wide, my gaze sucked down.
Down.
Down.
Missy dead at my feet.
I gulped around the vision, bile in my throat, agony in my chest.
Mrs. Dayne was there, her hand on my forearm. “Don’t worry. I’ve got her. You do what you’ve got to do.”
She picked up Frankie where she was laying on the gravel, face-down, barely able to process what was happening through the daze that clouded my mind. My daughter’s cries. Taillights.
What had I done?
What had I done?
A shovel.
Dirt.
Sweat on my nape.
I struggled for a breath, that numbness fracturing when I picked Missy up and carried her to the hole. I laid her in it.
I squinted, trying to see through the haze.
A shovelful of dirt.
Another.
A mound of nothing.
My girl. My wife. Gone.
They always were.
“You wants to be my bestest friend?” Frankie’s small voice slipped through the thin wall, muted just the same as the light. Rynna’s echoed back, so goddamned soft it penetrated to the depths of me.
“You want me to be your best friend?”
There was no answer, but my mind was conjuring a clear picture of Frankie vigorously nodding her head against her pillow. Could picture Rynna where she knelt on the ground beside her bed where she’d been reading my daughter her bedtime story.
Of course, because Frankie had again insisted.
“I’d like that,” Rynna murmured, and there was shuffling, what I knew was a tender kiss.
My heart fisted. There was a special kind of terror when things felt too right. Too good. That lulling calm before your life was demolished by a devastating storm.
“Good night, Sweet Pea,” Rynna said.
My ear was tuned to the movement in Frankie’s room as Rynna stood and flipped off the light. Her presence grew denser with each step. Could feel it swallow me from behind when she emerged at the end of the hall.
An avalanche of need.
A landslide of desire.
She edged around the couch. Since Frankie was safely tucked away in bed, Rynna curled up at my side. We were still being careful, easing Frankie into the idea of Rynna and me.
I wound an arm around her, pressed a kiss to her temple.
Milo yipped, and Rynna cooed, pulling him into her arms. She settled back into my chest and released a contented breath.