Been There Done That (Leffersbee #1) - Hope Ellis Page 0,93

out Sir Duke was particular about where he peed. He sniffed around the perimeter of the yard, sampled the essence of several bushes, nose turned up.

What was the criteria for a good pee spot, anyway?

I leaned back on the concrete pillar, resting my uninjured heel on the edge of the step below.

The sky was gorgeous with a burgeoning sunrise. Weak sunlight strained through the lattice of overcast clouds, dispersing scattered light. I breathed in the damp, chrysanthemum-scented air and relished the quiet, the stillness, all around me and in my mind.

How long had it been since I’d sat on my own back porch and took in a sunrise? Why had I starved my soul of these moments?

And why did these revelations have to coincide with the arrival of the big, sexy beast of a man, the former love of my heart, who still slept in my bed?

Sir Duke raised his hind leg in front of a bush, finally satisfied.

I shook my head. Just when I thought I had things figured out, they kept changing.

Business done, Sir Duke headed over to me, picking his way up the stairs on giant paws until we sat hip to hip on the top stair.

I lost track of how long we sat together in the stillness of morning. The giant dog planted his head in my lap and I stroked his flank, lulled to calm by the perfectly measured intervals of his breaths.

“Well, isn’t this cozy.”

I didn’t turn at the familiar voice behind me, but Sir Duke shot up, tail wagging. The screen door scraped opened and Nick lowered himself beside me several beats later. Sir Duke wriggled his head against me on the opposite side, determined to wedge himself between the porch’s stone pillar and my hip.

Sitting like this, all of us in a row? We looked like . . .

Dangerous thinking.

Have a seat, I told my heart. We’re not a family. He’s a man you haven’t known in twelve years. Maybe he didn’t cheat on you, but he sure as hell left. There’s no mistaking that.

I took a deep breath and steeled myself for whatever came next. Nick’s lean hip inched closer into my soft one.

“Good morning.”

I turned my head and found him closer than I expected, gaze fixed on mine with disquieting intensity. He looked rested. The shadows under his eyes were fainter. Dark strands of hair rioted all over his head in delicious disarray. I wanted to run my fingertips through the hard-scrabbled growth of beard.

“Good morning, yourself. You look like you finally got some sleep. God only knows how.”

“Best sleep I’ve had in over ten years.” The quiet intensity in his voice quickened my breathing. “I see you snuck out and hobbled around on that foot.”

“I’m still able-bodied. Just a little slow. And Sir Duke has needs,” I said pointedly. The dog nudged further into my lap as if validating the statement.

Nick shook his head at his dog. “He seems to be doing alright.”

“I wanted to thank you.” I stared fixedly ahead into the yard and the struggling summer flower bed badly in need of weeding. “For everything. For taking me to the hospital, sitting there with me all that time. Everything you did afterwards.” Heat warmed my cheeks. Thankfully, he didn’t jump on that comment. “You were right. I hadn’t planned on everything I needed. It wouldn’t have been nearly as comfortable a night without you.”

Silence.

His fingertip hooked under my chin and steered my face to his. “Don’t you understand? There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Nothing.”

My insides turned to mush. Help me, God.

“I wish you’d let me do more.”

“You’ve done enough. More than you should. But I’m grateful for you being here. It means a lot. I didn’t realize or remember you didn’t like hospitals until after we’d gotten home, so this was selfish of me. I know how hard your mom’s car accident was all those years ago. I hope being there didn’t stir up any memories for you.”

Two starlings took flight from the nearby tree, tiny bodies encircling in an aimless, careening trajectory.

I watched their progress until they were out of sight.

Nick was silent, his face averted.

“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, bringing it up.” I rested my hand atop his hand on the concrete step. Despite our close proximity the previous night, the gesture somehow felt unbearably intimate.

Maybe because it was, now. Things had changed between us; there was no mistaking that.

His eyes, when they finally met mine again, were full of something so