Chapter Twelve
Connor stood beside Sunny in the waiting room of the veterinary hospital.
She shifted her weight from foot to foot, ignoring the seats in favor of standing and pacing. Connor had heard from Garrison about her day, which he’d have expected to leave her settled and tired. Instead, she seemed filled with tension she had no idea what to do with.
Then again, it was probably adrenaline from her worry about Spike that gave her the rush of energy.
Connor simply stood, his arms crossed, letting Sunny move as much as she needed to. It was after hours, which meant there weren’t patients there. Only the overnight staff remained, but as a professional courtesy, they’d allowed Connor to bring Sunny by.
“Breathe.” Connor allowed just a bit of demand into his voice, not wanting to spook Sunny but unable to ignore how shallow her breathing had become.
She turned a sharp glare on him, which was a sure sign she wasn’t working on all cylinders. He doubted she’d ever have done something so blatantly confrontational if she were.
“You’re not going to make it to see Spike it you keel over here.”
Sunny narrowed her eyes, but the spark of anger didn’t last long. It fizzled away as quickly as it had shown up, and her shoulders fell. “Sorry.”
“No reason to be sorry—being in your position would make anyone crazy.”
She blew out a long, slow breath. “I just can’t stop thinking about him.”
“I know, darlin’. You’ll get to see him in just a few, and I’ve already talked to the doctor a few times. He’s going to be okay.”
“He lost hisleg, Connor. How is that okay?” The pain in her voice destroyed him.
Connor wanted to fix it. It was a drive inside him, something that made him want to solve whatever what was causing that sort of anguish, but there was nothing to do here. He had someone looking into Tanner, had her somewhere safe, was keeping as close an eye on Spike as possible. That was as much as he could do, and it wasn’t nearly enough.
He opened his arms—an offer, not a demand—and waited for Sunny to decide if she wanted the comfort.
She came over, as if drawn in without having to think about it. It soothed him, the fact that she wasn’t afraid in that moment, that she took what little he could offer.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. She hugged back, grasping the back of his shirt in a tight clutch.
Damn, she fit there perfectly. No matter how many times Connor warned himself off getting attached, how many times he told himself that this was temporary, that she was clearly not sure what she wanted and that it would be stupid to go all in—moments like this undid that good advice.
“Dr. Larson?”
Connor turned at the use of his name to find a young woman standing with a door held open.
Sunny didn’t pull back right away, clearly unwilling to let go of the warmth and security of the embrace, and didn’t that draw Connor in even more?
“Come on, darlin’,” Connor said, and shifted, leaving his arm around her shoulders.
He didn’t want to lose the connection entirely, but they needed to go see Spike. He suspected that would help her anyway.
They followed the woman through the back hallways and into a large room full of kennels. A few dogs barked, rushing to the door, the ones who stayed there for boarding. Near the end, the woman stopped.
Inside the kennel, on a raised dog bed, lay Spike. He looked so different from the way he had when Connor had seen him at her house, when he’d come over and sat on his foot, then refused to move until given attention. Funny enough, Connor had loved seeing him there, had felt better about Sunny living alone after seeing the huge mastiff.
The woman gestured to the side, waving for Connor to follow. No doubt she wanted to update him on Spike’s status in private, so he could relay it to Sunny on his own. He squeezed Sunny’s palm before following the other woman.
A chill settled inside Sunny when she lost Connor’s hand, when he followed the doctor to the side and left Sunny standing in front of the kennel with Spike.
She opened the latch on the door of the kennel, then crouched in front of the bed. Spike opened his eyes, and while he didn’t move, he wagged his tail, a slow motion that showed how many painkillers he was on.
Still, she didn’t touch him. She didn’t want to jostle him, to cause him pain. The vet hospital reminded her too much of the times she’d ended up in the hospital and put her on edge. How often had she lied about the cause of the injuries? Had Tanner been right by her side like a doting husband after he’d caused the injuries?
Sunny held back tears, despite a sting in her eyes that told her they were there. The bandage at the end of the stump, the way he lay on his other side, the slow thud of his tail against the edge of the bed, all felt like too much.