“You’re bluffing.” She wouldn’t be fooled twice.
“Not this time. I bought it the week you moved in. You see, when we said our vows, I promised to protect you. Until the divorce is final, you’re still my responsibility.”
Being called his responsibility wasn’t exactly flattering.
“Go back and watch the wedding video,” she said. “You actually promised to love, honor, and cherish me, but I won’t hold you to it.” Particularly the love part. He’d done great on honoring and cherishing, if you counted cooking great food and giving fantastic foot rubs.
“Protecting is how I do those things.” His chin jutted forward. “By the way, why haven’t you cashed your check?”
“I don’t need it, Cole.” As exhaustion crept over her like a heavy blanket, she dropped onto Mack’s vacated chair. “I don’t want it.”
“Was it so awful to be with me?” Hurt edged into his voice. “One minute, we’re together, getting along well. The next minute, you’re gone, you won’t tell me where you are, my calls are blocked, you won’t touch my money. I don’t understand why you won’t give us another chance.”
His words tore at her, ripping at the scab she’d erected over her heart.
“A chance at what, Cole? A chance to be platonic friends for a few more weeks before I’m on my own again?”
“I miss you, and so does Gus. I wish you’d come home.”
She turned the phone so he couldn’t see the tears welling in her eyes. It sounded like pure torture. To have him around all the time, a constant reminder of everything she couldn’t have.
“I hope you’ll think about it,” he said, “because Gus has quit eating.”
“Why? Did you take him to the vet?”
“The vet checked him out. Everything’s normal. He’s fallen into a depression since you left. He lies on the floor and stares at the front door.”
“He doesn’t eat at all?” Gus’ normal food consumption had been daunting. Her worry for Gus pushed her own troubles to a back burner.
“He’ll eat a little, if I feed him by hand. The vet said it might be anxiety from the changes, but I think he’s waiting for you to come home.”
She could barely hold her stormy emotions in check. Poor Gus shouldn’t have to suffer. He was completely innocent.
“Can you take the phone to him? Let me talk to him?”
“Sure, we can try.”
The scene shifted as he moved through the house, and then Gus appeared on the screen, lying by the front door, as advertised. He barely lifted an eyebrow when Cole approached. Was he that weak?
“Hey, Gus! Hey, boy!” she called out.
Gus’ head lifted, his ears perked. His nose sniffed the screen.
“I miss you, Gus. Have you been a good boy?”
He climbed to his feet, whining and pacing. He sniffed the screen again.
“I think he’s looking for you,” said Cole. “At least he’s alert, for a change. Maybe he’ll eat something.”
Cole enticed him toward his food bowl, but he refused to come close, even though Brooke was calling to him also. A few minutes later, he returned to his place by the front door and collapsed, dropping his head to his feet.
“See what I mean?” Cole asked.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was hoping he’d respond to my voice.”
“I didn’t think it would work. He doesn’t even perk up when we go to the ranch.”
Guilt niggled at her, and she knew it wouldn’t go away. “I guess I could come over to see him.”
“Would you?” Relief was written all over his face. “That’d be so good for him. Tomorrow’s Saturday. Want to come over for dinner? I’ll cook your favorite—shrimp enchiladas.”
Her mouth watered. It sounded a lot better than her Healthy Foods frozen dinner. “Only if you promise to call off your security team.”
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” he said, his eyes twinkling with excitement and something she didn’t quite trust. “See you at five. Or you could come at noon and we’ll grab lunch and catch a matinee in the afternoon. How does that sound?”
Lunch and a movie might be a better alternative to dinner. Less awkward time to fill. And she’d be home before he had time to offer a foot massage. “I like that idea.”
“Great! I’ll shop in the morning and have everything ready to go for the dinner, when we come back from the movie. We can take Gus along to lunch and drop him off at the Doggie Day Care right next to the cinema.”
No way she could handle spending the entire day with him.
“But, Cole—”
“After the movie, I’ll throw the enchiladas in the oven. And I’ll make mango-habanero salsa for the chips.”
She shushed her traitorous, growling stomach.
“Hold on, Cole. I thought—”
