Page 128 of Men or Paws

ChapterTwenty-Six

Rocco

One Week Later . . .

I was in a bad place. A really, really, really, really bad place.

I missed Beth so much I actually felt physical pain in my body. How was that even possible? Throw in my horrible sleepless nights, my irritability, my lack of appetite, and my constant focus problems, and I was a walking disaster. It probably wasn’t healthy that I was spending so much time in the garage, but the aching in my heart was new to me and I honestly didn’t know how to deal with it.

I felt lost.

Lost without Beth.

Marcello came into the garage and slid into the front seat of the Ford De Luxe next to me. He looked over at me, but didn’t speak.

Gwen, Douglas, and Marcello had tried to stage an intervention earlier, but I was able to avert it by pretending I had a horrible migraine and needed to lie down in the dark.

Pathetic, I know.

Marcello appeared to be contemplating a one-on-one intervention this time.

Yeah, good luck with that.

He looked over at me again.

I blew out a frustrated breath since it was his third visit to the garage in the last three hours. “You’re like a nurse doing hourly rounds.”

“Maybe I should check your pulse,” Marcello said.

I shook my head. “No need—I’m already dead on the inside.”

He glanced up at the speakers in the garage. “Me, too. This song is killing me.”

“Sandy” by John Travolta was playing. Again.

I shrugged. “Listen to the anguish in his voice. The man is in misery.”

“Of course, he is. He’s stranded at the drive-in and was branded a fool,” Marcello said, chuckling. He looked over again and sighed. “Okay, enough is enough. Come with me.” He got out of the car and closed the door.

I turned my head toward the passenger side. “Where are we going?”

“The kitchen,” he said, walking inside the house.

I was sure Marcello was going to use some logical crap on me to try to snap me out of the funk I was in. That’s what I got for surrounding myself with intelligent people.

Sliding out of the car, I went inside and stopped at the kitchen counter.

Marcello was standing in front of a bowl of food. “Eat.” He handed me a spoon. “And don’t complain. Gwen already left and it was all I could think of. I’m not a chef.”

That made me think of Beth, of course, and even those foul-tasting doggie treats. Just about everything made me think of her. I wasn’t the only one missing her, though. Houdini was acting out and shredding anything not nailed down.

Beth’s smile could melt my heart.

Her touch made my skin zing with electricity.

Too bad I was unable to get the image of her hurt out of my mind. It had torn me apart to see the pain and confusion in her eyes as we talked in my office. And letting her walk away was the hardest thing I had ever done. What kind of cruel universe made me choose between the two things I loved most?

Wait a minute, had I just admitted I loved Beth?