“Remember that store I went into during my third, or maybe it was my fourth, bathroom break during the drive here yesterday?” During the past few months, Lori claimed the baby wasn’t just sitting on her bladder, she was dancing a jig on it. “I found a flyer for this pet-adoption event put on by the local elementary school.” She winced slightly when one of the puppies climbing over her jabbed her skin with its needlelike toenails. “I thought it would be fun to pitch in.” She reached up to touch his hand. “Sound good?”
Lori rarely asked him if he was on board with one of her plans—she just railroaded him into participating. Clearly, the fact that she was checking in about it meant that she was really concerned about him.
He got down on the sand with her and the puppies. “Anything that makes you smile works for me.”
“Anything?” Just like that, the mischievous twinkle in her eyes was back.
He pretended to groan as he said, “Well…”
“No take backs.” She picked up the smallest puppy of the group and gathered him close to her chest. “This little guy makes me smile. Wait—” She lifted the dog to check out its undercarriage. “Yup, he’s a he. And I would really love to take him home with us.”
Grayson knew there was no point in reminding her that they already had loads of animals on their farm—or that they were also going to be taking care of a baby soon too. By way of answering, he said, “You’ve already named him, haven’t you?”
“Of course I have,” she said, her smile even bigger now. “His name is Carmelo. Carmelo Sullivan-Tyler.”
Grayson’s chest, though still a little tight, felt increasingly better as he reached out for the tiny dog of indeterminate breeding. Lori grimaced slightly as she handed the puppy over, which normally would have jump-started Grayson’s worrying again. But after their talk this morning, he knew he needed to turn over a new leaf. Most likely, he told himself, it was simply because she didn’t want to let go of the puppy so soon.
“You stay here on the sand and play with the puppies. I’ll take this little guy over to the adoption desk and make it official. Although he doesn’t look old enough to take home yet.” He studied the puppy’s paws and muzzle. “I’m guessing we’ll be able to pick him up in about three weeks.”
“A baby and a puppy at the same time.” Lori beamed. “How perfect!”
Grayson knew plenty of people—make that most people—would disagree with her on that score. But he knew that she truly meant it. As far as his extremely energetic wife was concerned, the more activity and fun and excitement in her life, the better. Even if it meant dealing with dirty diapers and puppy accidents on too little sleep.
As he carried the puppy over to the adoption table that had been set up on the sand, the puppy kept trying to lick his face. No matter how he repositioned him, the little furball scampered back up Grayson’s chest and planted another wet puppy kiss on his cheek.
Though Grayson wasn’t the world’s biggest fan of dog breath, Carmelo’s persistence was pretty darned adorable. It didn’t hurt that Lori had finally picked a good name for one of their animals.
It never got any less weird to see the pigs come running for their feed when she called out, Marcus, Chase, Ryan, Sophie. As for their cat, Milliebob? Well, that had to be one of the worst names in creation, a crude combination of the names they’d each chosen for their rescue cat.
“Would you like to adopt this handsome fellow?”
“Yes.” Grayson handed over the puppy to the woman from the local pet shelter so that she could check his tags. The puppy whined until the lady handed him back, then happily snuggled into the crook of Grayson’s arm and closed his eyes. Snuffling snores sounded less than sixty seconds later.
“Please fill out this paperwork. Once we’ve checked that everything looks good—” Grayson appreciated that this pet rescue took the time to make sure their animals were going to good homes. “—we will give you a call to let you know when you can come pick him up at the shelter. He’s got another few weeks to go before he’s fully weaned.”
“Sounds good.” Holding the puppy on one arm, Grayson filled out the adoption application. “In addition to adopting the puppy, my wife and I came today to see if you could use some extra volunteers.”
The woman looked even more pleased. “We’d really appreciate the help. Honestly, the most important thing is to make sure people get a chance to meet the animals. Especially the ones that aren’t as obviously adorable as your new puppy.” She stroked the soft fur on Carmelo’s head. “If you and your wife—who I’m assuming is the stunning woman playing with the other puppies—would like to join me, I’ll take you on a tour of some of the animals we need to go the extra mile with to increase their odds of adoption.”
For the next fifteen minutes, Lori was in heaven meeting the different animals. A cat with three legs. A blind rabbit. A guinea pig missing most of the fur on its back.
Without being told, Grayson knew Lori wanted to adopt them all. Honestly, he was tempted too. More than tempted, in fact. But as their farm really was full to the brim, he hoped there were other families here today who would take these animals home and love them the way they deserved to be loved.
Just the way Lori had always loved him.
* * *
Lori didn’t normally second-guess herself. Once she made a decision, she moved boldly and confidently.
But she couldn’t stand the thought of Grayson being unhappy. Particularly when they were on the verge of the most wonderful thing ever to happen to them.
Soon, they were going to have a baby. A little girl who was going to have the best daddy in the entire world—one who would always put her first and who already loved her to the moon and back.
The muscles in Lori’s back tightened again, a beat before the pain inched around the front toward her belly button. Both sharp and lingering, her contractions had definitely ratcheted up during the past hour.
When she’d been lying in Grayson’s arms after making love this morning, she’d been able to convince herself that they were nothing more than Braxton-Hicks “practice” contractions. But with each passing pain since, she’d started to wonder if she might not actually be given much practice before having their baby.
Still, as Grayson finally looked at ease while chatting with prospective adoptees about the charming and friendly personality of the three-legged cat, she wasn’t about to let him know that there was a teeny, tiny chance she might be going into labor three weeks early. Not yet, anyway. Not when the darkness that had been hovering over him was dissipating more and more with every animal he helped to find a new home, and with the joy and laughter of the kids playing on the beach.
Hopefully, their little girl would hold her horses for just a while longer, until Grayson had found some measure of peace. Because if Lori really was in labor, that newfound peace was exactly what he was going to need to get him through.
* * *
Grayson couldn’t take his eyes off a little girl who was no more than five or six. She looked so much like the picture Mary Sullivan had given him of Lori when she was that age: pigtails flying, missing a front tooth, her cheeks pink with excitement as she met the animals one by one. Though she was a ball of energy, she was extremely gentle with the animals, especially the older ones.