Friends instead of lovers.
Tori was smiling a little now, but she was chewing her bottom lip, looking at the sign, looking at him, looking at the sign again. Focusing on a puppy.
It was no small thing, he thought, to lose three beloved dogs and then to move forwards.
'Should I call him Jake?' she asked, and he blinked.
'Jake.'
'Big and warm and a bit shaggy.'
'Hey!'
'It fits.'
'I don't believe I'm shaggy.'
'You could be,' she said. 'If you loosened up a little. If you forgot to be a Manhattan millionaire.'
'I'm not!'
'Rob says you are.'
'Rob talks too much. I'm just-'
'A doctor doing his best,' she said, laughter fading. 'And your best has been wonderful. You saved Doreen's life last night. In a way, you've saved Glenda's. You're wonderful.'
The depth of sincerity in her voice was unmistakable. You're wonderful. He'd never been given such a compliment-by such a woman. And suddenly the light kiss he'd just given her was no longer enough. He desperately wanted to kiss her again-only this time deeply and long-but she was looking at the sign again, and there was a furrow between her eyes that told him her focus was no longer on him.
He had to back off.
'I guess … ' she said slowly. 'I'm not working yet. It'd be a good time to get a pup. And it could really help Rusty.'
Okay, forget the kiss. Concentrate on what was important. 'It'd be a great time to get a pup, and I'd love to buy one for you.'
'I'd pay,' she said quickly.
'No,' he said, and he tugged her round to face him again. 'Manhattan millionaire, Tori. My gift.'
She smiled, a little bit wobbly but a smile for all that. 'If he's from a Manhattan millionaire, then he should have a diamond-studded collar.'
'He'd think it was girlie.'
'Then,' she said, her smile widening as she climbed out of the car, 'let's see if they have a girl. Jake might need to become Jackie. A golden retriever who doesn't sniff at diamonds. Jake or Jackie. Let's see what they have.'
She didn't choose a Jake. She chose a female and she chose a runt. Or Rusty chose a runt and Tori agreed.
He might have known. There were six pups as big as one another, as energetic as one another, as healthy as one another. There was one bigger than the rest, a male who obviously spent his life trying to round up his litter mates, growing more and more exasperated as his siblings didn't do what he wanted. And then there was a tiny female who tried gamely to join into the family romp and got knocked over every time. Rusty went straight to her, nose to tail, tail to nose, and they started, tentatively, to play.
'We nearly put her down,' the breeder told them, as Tori scooped up the pup in one hand and Rusty in another. 'My husband wanted to-she's such a runt-only she kept on fighting for her place at a teat and she has such courage that I couldn't bear to. But she's not right,' she confessed as Tori snuggled her under her chin. 'Her left ear is weird. It sort of sticks up when it's supposed to flop. And her tail's supposed to be long and feathery and I can tell already that it's not. The older she's getting the worse it's looking. If you want her, she's cheap.'
Neither of them was thinking of money. Jake watched Tori snuggle the little girl to her; he watched her with two dogs in her arms, and he felt great. This was going to work.
Then he got distracted. The biggest pup had been tearing round in circles. He had his litter mates rounded up, but then one of his sisters made a break for it. He darted after her, the others scattered and he had to start the whole process again. He practically beamed as he proceeded to bounce around the circle again.
He didn't know dogs. His mother had hated them, and now he spent his life at work. A dog was out of the question. But he watched Tori cuddle her two and he thought … He thought …
'Would you like two pups?' he asked her. 'I think the round-up guy's great.'
Tori's arms were full of wriggly dog. For a runt the little one had plenty of bounce, and Rusty was wriggling, too. They were practically turning inside out to reach each other.
'Two,' Tori gasped. 'Are you trying to drown me?' She sank onto the floor and was pounced on by a sea of pups. 'Oh, Jake, I shouldn't even think about one.'
She was half laughing, half crying. This was a huge thing for her, Jake thought, as he watched her hug armloads of pups. She'd lost three dogs in the most dreadful of circumstances, and she'd lost so much more. For her now to move on … To learn to love again …
'It feels like a betrayal,' she whispered but she hugged her runt closer.
'Grief has to let you go sometime,' Jake said softly. 'What did Auden say? Stop all the clocks? They did stop for you, Tori, but now they need to start again. Nothing is worth stopping the clocks for the rest of your life. And if that means loving again … '
'Says the man who doesn't do loving.'
'How did-'
'I can guess,' she whispered, smiling up at him through tears. 'I'm guessing your parents stuffed you so badly you've never got over it. So why don't you get a pup?'
'I work fourteen hours a day,' he said shortly. 'I can hardly leave one of these guys in a corner of the operating room while I work.'
'I guess you can't,' she said sadly, but then a tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. 'As opposed to me. I'm a vet. I could take these guys to work. I could manage two dogs.'
'Not three?' He was still eyeing the round-up king, circler extraordinaire.
'Can you imagine that guy in my shoebox?' she demanded, following his gaze. 'My yard's the size of a pocket handkerchief. Even one's stupid. Maybe I shouldn't … '
Okay, he needed to focus. Forget the round-up king, he told himself, and he crouched among the puppies so he was right in front of her.
'It would be my pleasure to buy one of these pups for you,' he said. 'Please let me.'
Her gaze met his. Her eyes were glimmering with unshed tears, but she was trying to smile.
'A birthday gift?'
'When's your birthday?' he demanded, stunned.
'Today.'
'You're kidding!'
'Sort of,' she admitted. 'But that's what it feels like. My birthday. Like yesterday was one life and today's the beginning of another. Jake, last night … '
The breeder was watching, a big, broad woman in wellingtons and overalls, waiting for them to make a decision on the puppies. This was hardly the time to talk about last night. But …
'Last night was great,' he told her. 'And tonight … '
'Not tonight,' she said, fast. Her puppy wriggled to get down. She released him and the king immediately took it as a personal affront that his huddle of pups had been interfered with. He yapped and started circling again.
'Jake, last night was last night,' she said. 'It was the most wonderful gift. It's just made me feel alive again, like there's life still to come. So now … As you said, it's time to start the clocks again. So yes, Jake, I'd love you to buy me a birthday gift. My lopsided puppy. Itsy, I think, after a song my mother taught me.'
'Itsy bitsy spider?' he asked, bemused.
'That's the one.'
'My guy could be Bitsy.'
'Nice try,' she said and grinned and lifted up her puppy and held her, only this time it was almost as a shield. 'One pup. No more.'
There were so many conflicting emotions in his head he didn't know where to start. Business, he thought, and he grabbed his wallet and made a play of finding his credit card. For suddenly he couldn't look at her. This woman with her arms full of pup. This woman whose life had been destroyed and was now starting again-while he went back to Manhattan. He need never see her again, he thought, and he felt suddenly, unutterably bleak.
Which was nonsense. He didn't do relationships, and he surely didn't do relationships with vets who lived on the far side of the world to him.
And he didn't do relationships with women he might just end up falling in love with.
But he looked at the play of emotions on her face as Itsy licked and licked. He looked at the errant curl that had escaped the knot she'd tied. Last night those curls had been down. He'd run his fingers through them. Soft as silk …
He wanted her.
'You want her or not?' the breeder demanded.
The dog. She was talking about the dog.
'I think we do,' he said, still watching Tori. 'Don't you, love?' She blinked. 'Love?'
'Figure of speech,' he said hastily. 'Don't you, um … '
'Tori,' she said and smiled, and it was as if she could read his thoughts. 'Dr. Nicholls.' Her smile held the memory of the night before. It was the smile of a woman who'd taken her man, who knew what he was …
Her man?
He belonged in New York, he thought, trying desperately to ground himself.
Remember relationships, he told himself. They never last. His mother had drilled it into him over and over until it was almost a mantra. 'Depend on yourself and only yourself. You fall in love and you start being stupid.'
Only his mother had lied. If she'd lied about his father, what else had she lied about?
But maybe in this she was right. Stupid would be taking Tori into his arms right now, and holding her, and …