Page 77 of Her Christmas Wish

He’d get a dog right away. Had to have it trained before the child visited. And, hope to God, the canine would train him, too, in how to be responsible every single day, without growing too resentful when the dog’s needs overrode his own desires or plans.

Of course, there were a lot of wonderful places he could board a canine companion when he had to get away.

Not so with humans.

Walking up to the cottage, he made his first in-person, up close inspection. Stood in the cracked and broken parking spaces. Touched the knob on the front door. Noticed shingles missing from the roof. Saw some rotting wood on one side.

And eventually ended up sitting in the sand, leaning up against what had used to be a sliding glass door, an entryway that had been boarded up.

He’d have to dig out to have a porch.

He wanted a porch.

The place was small. Much smaller than Sage’s or Scott’s cottages. That was partially why it hadn’t sold, the Realtor had told him. The woman had also shared that all cottages had right-of-way for additions. Sitting on almost an acre apiece, there was certainly room for the structure to grow.

He had to tell Sage he planned to make an offer. As soon as possible. He didn’t want to lose the place.

Sage.

Possibly pregnant Sage.

He’d had some hours to come to grips with the idea. She’d had almost a week. Had obviously known, the second she’d climbed off him—or shortly thereafter—that there’d been completely unprotected sex.

And she hadn’t said a word. Protecting him?

Or afraid to tell him?

Sage, afraid? Not when it came to telling someone the truth. Easy or hard, the woman was a rock when it came to delivering provable fact.

Even to a man who’d left her at the altar because he’d been so resistant to impregnating her he’d had to break her heart. And his.

But she’d wait until she knew.

And she’d spend every minute between the possibility and the knowing...distraught.

There were some things a guy’s gut just knew when it came to the woman who’d once been his soulmate.

He’d never actually said the word. She had. But that truth had resonated so deeply within him he’d accepted that it was so.

Sage would rather die than trap him. And because of a few brainless seconds in the sand...she could be forced to do just that.

Ten years after they’d both suffered so much to prevent the imprisonment from ever happening.

Irony at its worst?

Fate’s worst joke on him ever?

An early Thanksgiving nightmare?

Or just something that had happened because he and Sage had made a choice without considering the consequences?

Gray leaned his head back against the house, closing his eyes so he could concentrate more fully on the sound of the waves as he let the questions roll over him.

Figuring he’d have his answers, at least the pertinent ones, soon enough.

The first water rescue class took off to a hearty round of applause at its conclusion. Using Morgan as his demonstrator, Gray had started with giving dogs treats for quickly entering the water at a splash. From there, Sage got a little lost, but noticed that all six residents enrolled in the class were attentive. And participating.

Sitting up on her porch, she made certain that while Leigh watched from the sand, she didn’t approach or interrupt the class.