Page 35

A wave of water swamped the concrete deck, setting Gen to prancing as it washed over her paws. Edging her way to the ledge, she leaned forward until she almost tipped in, eyes searching the surface for Dylan.
When he finally popped up in the center of the pool, she yapped a series of high-pitched play barks.
“Is she telling him to get out or asking if she can get in?” Scott asked.
Abby shrugged, smiling. “I’m not sure, but she’s playing emotional keep away.”
Gen backed away from the edge, then approached again, play bowing.
With a shake of his hair, Dylan sprayed water in all directions, then called to Gen. “C’mon, girl. You can do it!”
Finally committing, Gen flung herself into the pool after him, a wash of water submerging him momentarily until he surfaced again, grinning and calling her name.
Throwing her head back, Abby laughed at the sight. She couldn’t explain why Gen and Dylan playing together warmed her heart, but she couldn’t deny the joy that took hold of her every time the boy and the dog interacted.
Gen had never had a friend like Dylan. She loved children – she had to, in her line of work – but all the children she spent time with were sick and weak. Dylan, the picture of perfect health, full of rambunctious energy and mischievous plans, was the antithesis of all her experiences. And Gen loved him even more for it.
Had she done a disservice to Gen, forcing her to work as a therapy dog? She had discovered a whole new facet to the dog’s personality since meeting Scott and Dylan, and she couldn’t help doubting her decision. The playful, energetic dog before her had little in common with the hard worker who stood beside her in the brightly-colored halls of the hospital. Except her love of children.
On the pool steps, Dylan buried his face in Gen’s damp ruff, then blew raspberries at her while he wiped the stray strands of fur from his cheeks. Throwing a familiar foam football, he dove after it, Gen doggy paddling behind him.
“Come on,” Scott tugged at their entwined hands, leading her across the lawn and onto the deck. He let go long enough to pick up the towels Dylan had left strewn across a lounge chair, stack them on a small table, then drag a second lounger close to the first. Collapsing into it, he reached for her hand again.
Bringing it to his mouth, he pressed a feather-light kiss to her knuckles. Over almost as soon as it began, Abby didn’t have time to overthink, to demure, to pull away. Even afterwards, when her brain had caught up to the moment, she didn’t move.
Scott rested their hands together between them, seemingly content with nothing more than what he’d already done, and though Abby’s cheeks pinked with delicate heat, his attention switched fully to Dylan and Gen’s antics, letting the flitting breeze cool her skin.
Thus began a new tradition. After work, instead of meeting at the park, Abby and Gen would go to Scott’s and Dylan would swim with Gen while Abby and Scott sat on lounge chairs on the deck, supervising their play and talking in quiet, intimate voices.
Scott studied his tablet, brows knitted in concentration, while he rubbed the inside of Abby’s wrist with one thumb. He couldn’t help wanting to touch her soft skin, though he kept the pressure light, nearly not there at all. One of these days, she’d be ready for more, and then...
Scott forced his attention back to the screen. Picturing Abby after their first kiss—eyes half-lidded, cheeks pink, and hair mussed—would not help him learn the new plays Jeff, his offensive coordinator, had sent over in preparation for training camp.
Still, she’d set her book aside a few minutes ago, eyes on his son and her dog, but every time his thumb ceased its circles, her arm twitched.
Scott hid a grin. He might have doubted he still had any allure, given how little Abby responded to him, but she had her own ghosts to put to rest, and he could be patient. Especially when little signs like this one showed progress.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the moment a smile turned the corners of her mouth up. Squeezing his fingers, she waited for him to glance over.
“Thank you,” she said when he did.
She turned back as Dylan faked throwing a ball, then hid it behind his back as Gen made a mad dash around the perimeter of the pool before realizing Dylan still had it firmly in his grasp.
Scott let the tablet fall flat in his lap. “For what?”
“For this.” Abby jutted her chin toward the pool, the dog, and the boy. “I don’t think I’ve told you. I’d never seen this side of Gen before we met you and Dylan. She’s so happy with him.”
“Of course.” Scott twined his fingers in hers, bringing them to his lips to brush a kiss over her knuckles. She didn’t resist, and he tallied another point of progress in his head. “We love having you and Gen here.”
Keeping her hand tucked into his and pressed to his chest, he turned his attention back to the tablet. As training camp approached and the season ramped up, he’d spend more and more time preparing, both on and off the field. This was the nature of his job, but after the last several months of having a looser schedule, how would Abby adjust to the demands of his career?
Sighing, he turned the screen off and set it to the side. “There’s something we probably need to talk about, though.”
Abby stiffened, fingers tight in his.
Gen paused and turned to stare at her, the change in Abby’s breathing triggering her therapy response. Dylan’s gaze followed hers, until both of them stared at Abby and Scott.
Internally berating himself, Scott hurried to salvage the situation. “No, no, nothing bad.” He squeezed her fingers tighter, preventing her from untangling her own. “We need to discuss... work. My work.”