Page 11 of Charlie and Her Sweet Escape
“My poor blanket,” Mrs. Miller whispered. “It’s from a small village in France.”
“Being wrapped will help calm her nervous system.”
Greg huffed. “You have to grab it by the scruff. Dogs respond to an alpha.” He took three purposeful steps forward.
“Wait!” I said at the same time Charlie sharply commanded, “Stop!”
He reached down to grab Molly, who lunged forward, hackles raised, and plunged herteeth into Greg’s arm.
5
BENNETT
Igathered the blanket-wrapped dog into my arms and walked swiftly toward the front door. We moved quickly past the scandalized dinner party clustered in the hall and entryway.
“You’re going to be okay, buddy,” I murmured to Molly. “No one likes Greg anyway.”
“Bennett,” Charlie scolded lightly. “Take her to my car.”
She jogged ahead to open the back hatch and motioned for me to sit. I held Molly in my lap, and Charlie leaned over me to scratch the dog’s ears. She smelled like coconut and sea salt—two of my very favorite scents.
Molly’s trembling lessened as she nuzzled Charlie’s hand.
“Thank you, Ben.” She glanced up at me with a grateful smile, and I had to resist the urge to boop her adorably freckled nose.
“Anytime.” I eased my hold, and Molly remained curled on my lap, comfortable and calm. Molly’s trust tugged at my heart. I’d always wanted to have a dog, but I couldn’t with my schedule. With me going out to sea so many days a week, it would be too hard. Besides, I wanted to be untethered. I had my siblings, andthey were enough. Getting too attached to any one person or animal would inevitably lead to heartbreak and loss.
“Molly likes you,” Charlie said.
“Well, Molly has proven herself to be a good judge of character. Haven’t you, girl?”
Greg marched down the driveway toward us, his arm wrapped in white gauze, a determined and angry expression on his face. Garrison—the salt-and-pepper version of Greg, down to their matching scowls—strode purposefully at his side. Molly’s back stiffened.
“Charlie, maybe you and Molly should get in the car,” I said.
Her expression was strained as she rushed to the passenger seat and accepted Molly onto her lap. I closed her door and headed Greg off before he got too close.
There were few people I adamantly disliked, and Greg was one of them. He strutted around like the world owed him something. At our first meeting, he’d been quick to let me know where four parentless siblings fit in the hierarchy of this town. But one of Charlie’s best—and most frustrating—qualities was that she always saw the good in everyone. Even when they didn’t deserve it.
“What do you want, Greg?”
“Move.” He tried to walk around me, but I stepped in his path again. I had at least six inches and forty pounds on him. While Greg sat at a desk all day, I was out regularly fishing and working on my boat.
There was nothing I could do about Charlie marrying him. There was nothing I could do about Greg stopping by her house later. But in this moment, I could protect them. So protect them I would.
I wouldn’t lie and pretend I wasn’t getting a whole lot of satisfaction out of blocking him.
“It seems like you need to get that arm looked at,” I said.
“That dog needs to be put down.”
Greg, in some ways, was like the overstimulated dog. If I had a four-thousand-dollar blanket to wrap him in, I would, even if he didn’t deserve it.
I flexed my folded arms, making it very clear I wasn’t budging. “I’ll make sure the dog gets taken care of.” With a treat and a huge medal for doing what I couldn’t do. “If I were you, I’d prioritize getting an antibiotic. You don’t want an oozing arm at your wedding.”
“I need to talk to my fiancée.” He bit off every word, his face red, his scowl deep.
I lazily raised an eyebrow, knowing it would get under his skin. “She’s busy right now.”
