Page 21 of Yorkie to My Heart (Friends of Gaynor Beach Animal Rescue #6)

Phillip

The scent of yeast and fresh-baked bread hit me full force as I stepped into Jeremy’s house.

He was hard on my heels and greeted the scent with a, “What the fuck?”

“Uncle Jer said a bad word.” Thaddeus was right there by the front door, apparently ready to tattle on his favorite uncle.

His only uncle?

Huh.

I hadn’t gotten a rundown of Marcie’s husband’s siblings.

This is what you’re focusing on? Seriously?

“Uh, Marcie?” Jeremy leaned over to untie his shoes.

I plopped onto the bench by the front door to do the same thing. So much easier than sucking in my stomach and trying to do it bent over while standing.

Jeremy’s defiant words circled in my mind. Generous. Kind. Attractive. Sexy. Who the hell found a fat guy sexy?

Okay, that came out wrong. Some people really didn’t see body type in their attraction factor.

Some people were specifically attracted to overweight people.

Something about survival of the species.

Or something. My doctor in LA recommended a couple of articles about self-esteem but, me being me, I’d gone down a rabbit hole to see what random people thought about fat and skinny people.

Not supposed to use the word fat .

Right. Overweight? Curvy? Something less pejorative? That was the idea, anyway. But shaming myself for my weight was my coping mechanism. A way to keep people at arm’s length. If they didn’t get close, then they couldn’t hurt me like Hank did.

I hadn’t told Jeremy about the suicide attempt. Nearly…but I hadn’t been able to get the words past my tight throat. Because his kindness overwhelmed me. His anger on my behalf. The righteousness that Hank was…wrong.

Part of me wanted to believe Jeremy. And part of me continued to look at myself in the mirror and hate what he saw.

“Hey, munchkin.” Jeremy tousled Thaddeus’s hair.

“He’s not a munchkin.” Raphael put their hands on their hips. “He’s a boy. Munchkins are in Oz.”

I blinked. I was pretty certain Jeremy did as well, given his stunned expression.

Funny—I figured he’d be accustomed to such proclamations from the obviously bright Raphael.

I smiled. “I saw that movie when I was a kid. Scared the bejeebers out of me. I didn’t watch it again for years.

They always played it at Halloween.” They being the powers that be in our little town.

For reasons, I wasn’t entirely clear on, they alternated between The Wizard of Oz and Old Yeller for our once-a-year secular movies.

I didn’t think either were good choices—but no one ever asked me.

“You were right to be scared.” Raphael pointed at me. “Uncle Jeremy will protect you.” With that pronouncement, they flounced out of the room.

“Well, okay, then.” Jeremy pressed a hand to my shoulder. “I’ll always protect you. Be it from foe or friend.”

“You mean from your nibblets.”

Thaddeus had also bolted out of the room.

“Jeremy, is that you?” Marcie’s disembodied voice came from the kitchen,

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Marcie.”

“Great. Come help.”

We exchanged a look.

I bent over to unclip Wally who’d been waiting patiently. I was always hesitant to just let him run around in Jeremy’s house. Especially with kids running around as well.

Wally waited and watched as I straightened.

Figuring he might be thirsty, I indicated he was free to go.

He bolted into the kitchen.

“Oh, dear Lord.” Marcie’s voice again carried.

Jeremy and I hustled into the kitchen.

To find Marcie at the stove with her hand pressed against her chest. “That dog.”

“Sorry.” I scanned the room and found Wally at his water bowl, by the back door, slurping away contentedly.

Marcie smiled. “No, it’s fine. I should have realized he’d be with you two.

” She pointed to the oven. “I heard about what happened and came over this morning planning to…I don’t know.

” She frowned. “And then you weren’t home, and Raphael pointed out that coming home to fresh-baked bread makes everything better. ”

“Uh, sis?”

She eyed him. “Yes?”

“I don’t keep many baking supplies in the house. And we weren’t gone that long.”

She winced. “Darren might’ve gotten rip-roaring drunk at his lieutenant’s retirement party last night. At least he got a ride home from a sober friend. He’s sleeping it off, and I thought it would be nice to leave him in peace. Now, if you don’t want fresh-baked bread?—”

“I always want fresh-baked bread.” Jeremy stepped to her and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “We did just have sticky buns from Nice Buns, so we may not partake right now. But you’ll leave the leftovers, right?”

Marcie rolled her eyes. “No. I thought I’d come here, bake, and take everything home with me.”

“No, you didn’t.” Raphael frowned. “You said we needed to do something nice for Uncle Jeremy’s boyfriend because his house burned down and he’s sad.” The kid turned to me. “Are you sad?”

“Uh…” So this is what a deer in the headlights feels like .

The answer should’ve been simple. I’d lost all my new things, including the laptop.

I should’ve been sad. But thanks to Jeremy this morning—with his quick wit and even quicker smile—I’d enjoyed myself.

I’d forgotten the trauma that had led me here.

Unburdening myself had been…freeing. I tilted my head.

“I’m sorry for the man who owns the house because he’ll have to rebuild.

I’m sorry because I lost a couple of things like my new clothes and my laptop. ”

“Oh, that’s easily solved.” Jeremy sniffed the bread, then met my gaze.

“I have a perfectly good one. Long story, but I needed to swap it out last year. Well, let me be more precise—it needed to be repaired, and I didn’t have the patience to wait.

So I bought a new one, and then the repair shop fixed the old one, and now I have two. ”

That was entirely too convenient, as far as I was concerned. But I didn’t have tenant’s insurance, and no way in hell was I going to ask Anthony to find me another laptop. He’d already done so much. “Uh, if you’re sure.”

“He’s sure.” Marcie swatted Jeremy on his ass with a tea towel. “Go wash your hands. I’ll cut a bun in half for you to share. And you’re not having leftover pizza for lunch. I brought a rosemary chicken.”

Jeremy and I exchanged looks. And smiled because we’d entirely planned on leftover pizza. Given how many miles we’d walked today, I’d calculated a slice or two wouldn’t hurt too much.

I went into the half bath on the main floor to wash my hands while Jeremy hustled upstairs. Soon we presented ourselves in the kitchen to receive half of one of Marcie’s delicious-smelling buns.

As we feasted, I caught sight of Wally rolling around on his back, scratching it on the mat, while Thaddeus rubbed his belly. My dog was in seventh heaven.

Given the treat I was consuming, so was I.

“Marcie, you’ve outdone yourself.” Jeremy used a napkin to wipe away a dribble of melted butter that had escaped down his chin.

Drat. I’d wanted to do that…with my tongue. Which was possibly one of the weirdest thoughts ever. Because first, beard. And second, I just didn’t have thoughts like that. Ones that were vaguely sexual. Or sensual. Or anything. I’d never had them before, so why start now?

Oh.

Maybe because Jeremy was safe?

High school hadn’t been safe. College hadn’t been safe. Hank hadn’t been safe.

But Jeremy, with his gentle teasing, and his ardent willingness to fight all the battles for me, felt…safe.

I swallowed. Hard. “Delicious, Marcie. Thank you.”

Raphael stood before me. “I helped.”

“Then I thank you as well.” Bit by bit, the intimidation factor was wearing off. They were just a kid. Obviously a very bright and special child—still just a child.

“I didn’t help.” Thaddeus grinned as he continued to scratch Wally’s belly.

My dog’s tongue lolled in unbridled pleasure.

“You’re keeping Wally busy and not underfoot. That’s a very important job.” Because a bit of extra validation never hurt.

Thaddeus grinned. “That’s right.” He emphasized every syllable of every word. As if trying to prove a point.

“Why don’t you run around in the backyard while I get lunch ready?” Marcie eyed her children.

Wally perked up. He only ever received breakfast and dinner, but he seemed to react to any word that had any relation to food.

“Backyard.” Marcie pointed.

Raphael, Thaddeus, and Wally all headed through the solarium and out into the bright sunshine.

Marcie turned to her brother. “You, too.”

He cocked his head. “I figured I’d help.”

“Phillip’s going to help me. You’re going to supervise chaos.”

Even as she said the word, a yelp and a yip came through the open doorway.

Jeremy cut me a quick glance as he hustled out the door.

Truly, I wasn’t worried about Wally. Maybe I should’ve been. Maybe he shouldn’t have been left alone with the kids, even for a moment. Soon, though, peals of laughter and little yips filtered through the window Marcie had opened when she’d arrived.

Jeremy and I had kept everything shut up tight so the smell of smoke didn’t waft in. Now, though, far less of the scent lingered.

“How can I help?” I did my best not to fidget under her eagle-eyed stare. Her dark-brown eyes were identical to her brother’s, and her chestnut-colored hair was just a shade lighter.

“It’s more, how can I help you?” She pointed to the kitchen table and, more specifically, a chair.

I sat.

She grabbed a couple of potholders and moved to the oven. Within moments, she had the door open and a pan out and on top of the stove.

The aroma of rosemary chicken filled the kitchen—mixing perfectly with the fresh bread.

She headed for the fridge and pulled out a metal bowl. Then she grabbed salad dressing and a couple of small containers. She held one up. “Cheese?”

“Oh yes, ma’am. Cheese is the best.”

“It’s Marcie. Ma’am is my mother. Although she prefers Nana these days.” She smiled, “My kids love their grandparents, and that love is returned.”

“You have great kids.”