Page 32 of Light My Fire

“It’s not a problem. My mother taught me how to clean. She always said she was raising her future daughter-in-law’s husband, not a son.”

Brooke laughs softly. “I like your mom.”

“Me too. She’s a great woman.” I look out the back door. “Where do the neighbors live? Why would they let this dog out if she’s in labor?”

“They must not have realized she was having contractions.”

I’m not sure how they could have missed Henley’s anxiety. I feel a little judgmental about that but I keep my mouth shut.

“I think this will work.” Wyatt and Luke carry over a cobbled together box and set it down next to the fireplace.

“That’s perfect.” Brooke nods in approval. “Great improvisation.”

The sides are secured with duct tape, and when they set it down, I unroll the towels and start laying them inside.

“Do we need to know anything?” Luke asked. “I’ve never seen this with a dog.”

Luke’s expression is stern, his face white.

Shit.

Wyatt and I exchange looks. We both know what he’s thinking about.

Marci. His cheating ex-wife who let him go through a whole pregnancy, and labor and delivery thinking her baby was his only to have her lover show up at the hospital demandingentrance and a DNA test. It was obviously traumatizing and I can tell he’s trying to ignore the feelings it’s pulling up.

“Lab litters are big, anywhere from five to twelve puppies, but a first time mom usually has a litter on the smaller side. They’ll come every fifteen minutes or so, and Mom will chew off the umbilical cord. We just need to make sure the little guys are all breathing and that they suckle and that the number of placentas that pass matches the number of puppies. We’ll need to change the bedding periodically but without disturbing Henley anymore than we have to. But mostly we monitor and she does the work.”

I’m impressed with how soothing and calm Brooke is. She helps Henley into the box and encourages her to lie down. I decide to go get her tea and reheat it in the microwave. I bring it over and set it on the fireplace hearth.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks. Can someone go look in the linen closet for a heating pad? I think my grandmother keeps one in there. I doubt Blake would have gotten rid of it since he bought the house.”

“Sure.” Luke is off at a fast pace, clearly needing a task.

“What happens to all those placentas?” I ask, thinking about a half dozen puppies being born and the afterbirth just being…there.

“Henley will probably eat them.”

“Holy fuck.” I feel my stomach flip.

I turn and go and retrieve my coffee that brewed fifteen minutes ago and take a sip. It’s only lukewarm but I don’t care. I was going to make breakfast but I’ve definitely lost my appetite.

Wyatt is laughing at me. “You’re not going to faint, are you?” he asks, scraping ash out of the fireplace from the night before.

“No, of course not.” I don’t think. But me and blood? We’re not the best fit.

Henley is licking herself very loudly.

I’m not a huge fan of that either but I just grimace and take another huge gulp of my coffee. Brooke is holding her glass tea mug between her two hands and takes a delicate sip. She looks gorgeous right now, her eyes sharp and intelligent, her gaze firmly on the laboring dog. Her neck is long and graceful and I focus on it so my stomach will stop twisting, fantasizing about kissing along the length of that smooth swath of skin.

“Can I get you anything to eat?” I ask her.

“I’m fine for now. I don’t usually eat breakfast.”

“That’s no good,” Wyatt says, reaching out and massaging the back of the very neck I was just imagining touching. “It’s the most important meal of the day.”

She shrugs. “I don’t like to chew first thing in the morning. Where did I put my phone? I should text the neighbors and let them know what’s going on. They might be out looking for Henley by now.”

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