“Is he ok? What did the vet say?” I ask as Lukas opens the back door for me to greet Cujo. He sniffs my injured hand, investigating the sling and licking my fingers gently. “You’re such a good dog,” I tell him, scratching under his chin.
“Just bruises. Nothing serious,” Asher grunts.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“One hundred percent,” he answers. “They did a full check-up, even took x-rays. He’s an attention whore, that’s about the only thing wrong with him. Damn near mauled the vet tech with kisses when she brought out the treats. He’s got medication in the glove box. I didn’t trust him not to eat it—”
“Medication for what?” I interrupt. “I thought you said he was fine.”
“He is. It’s just preventative stuff. Flea and tick, heartworm and shit. Oh, and he’s up to date on vaccines now. And they brushed his teeth.”
My lower lip starts trembling as I look at Asher. He took such good care of Cujo, and I’m so grateful. It was tearing me up not to be able to take him to the vet myself, and he really came through for us. He might be a grumpy ass most of the time, but he’s a softy underneath.
“Ah shit,” he mutters. “Don’t you cry.”
Lukas laughs and steers me towards the passenger door. “Don’t swear at her. She’s had a long day,” he says over his shoulder.
“Yeah, a long day of assaulting men and dognapping. I can see how that would really take it out of a person,” Asher mutters.
“Allegedly. I allegedly assaulted a man and stole his dog,” I say as Lukas helps me into the truck, chuckling as he buckles my seatbelt.
Asher’s lips twitch. “Sure. That’ll hold up in court. You two have a good night,” he says as he climbs into his truck.
“Thank you!” I yell out the open window. Asher gives us a wave as he backs out and drives away. Lukas leans on my open window, grinning at me. “What?” I ask. “You look awfully smug.”
He raises his eyebrows and grins at me.
“Yes,” I sigh. “Fine. You were right. I’m glad you asked Asher to take Cujo to the vet.” Lukas leans in, kissing me deeply.
“You always know exactly what to say to turn me on,” he teases.
“Oh, yeah?” I ask, raising my eyebrows at him. “My hand feels pretty good right now, you know.”
“Ha! Nice try, temptress. It only feels good because you’re still numb. If you think I’m going to do anything other than feed you and put your sexy ass to bed tonight, you are sorely mistaken.”
I sit back in my seat with an exaggerated huff. “Fine, be withholding then.”
Lukas chuckles and walks around the front of the truck to the driver’s side, shaking his head and muttering something under his breath. A happy shiver runs through me. I love him. And he loves me. It seems so simple.
As it turns out, the numbing effect starts wearing off before we even get back to Lukas’ house, and as much as I hate admitting defeat, dinner and bed sounds like an amazing plan right now. Olive is on the front porch with bags of food in her hands when we pull in.
“What on earth were you thinking?” she hollers at me as Lukas helps me out of the truck. “Julia said you punched a guy and then terrorized the hospital staff— Good lord that’s a big dog!”
Cujo jumps out of the truck, wiggling with excitement before rolling in the grass. He looks so damn happy. And to think that I was worried about how he’d adjust.
“That’s Cujo,” I tell her. When I say his name, he jumps up and barrels towards me, ears flopping. Lukas steps in to keep him from jumping on me, but it’s unnecessary. Cujo skids to a halt a foot away from me and leans his big bulk against my thigh, smiling up at me with pure love and adoration. “Good boy, Cujo,” I baby talk, scratching him behind the ears with my good hand.
“So the dog abduction wasn’t an exaggeration, then?” Olive asks.
Lukas shakes his head, giving Olive a look.
“And that’s not going to blow back on either of you?”
“Nope,” Lukas and I say in unison. He gives me a crooked smile that melts my insides. Stupid hand! The rest of me is in desperate need of some attention, but until the pain settles down, I’m afraid I’ll be left unsatisfied.
“Jesus. You two are a pair. I can’t wait to hear the whole story, but I guess I’ll let you have until tomorrow.” Olive blows us a kiss as she heads to her car. “You better strap in for some babying. Gran is going to lose it when she spots that sling.” She tips an imaginary hat in our direction. “Have a good night, Bonnie. Clyde.”
We don’t have dog food for Cujo, but Olive included a takeout out container labeled: “Doggie dinner.” When I open it, I burst into tears. Inside is a mountain of scrambled eggs, with shredded chicken and brown rice mixed in. She even topped it with crumbled bacon.