feelings. “When I’m with her, it feels right, you know? Am I a little freaked out by how fast it’s all happened? Yes. But life doesn’t work to schedule.”
Brent was silent for a long beat. “Does she feel the same?”
The million-dollar question. Oliver squinted into the sun.
“We haven’t talked about it.”
Another silence. “Okay. It’s your life.” Brent said it with all the weighted doom of someone handing out a death sentence.
“Stranger things have happened, you know,” Oliver said quietly. “Who says that because I wasn’t looking for it, this isn’t the best thing that’s ever happened to me?”
“For your sake, I hope you’re right.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Oliver saw the vet come out and talk to the receptionist.
“I have to go. Did you need anything?”
“Yeah. I wanted to let you know that Sandra’s offered to load all the furniture on eBay so we can sell it off. If you send her the pictures and descriptions, she’ll take care of it.”
“Great. Tell her thanks from me.”
“Okay.”
Oliver ended the call and shoved the phone into his pocket. His brother’s timing was awesome. As if he didn’t have enough on his plate right this second with Strudel being under the weather.
He shortened the dog’s lead and reentered the clinic.
“Sorry about that,” he told the receptionist.
“You’re fine. All taken care of?” she asked.
Her gaze was curious and he wondered how much she’d heard.
“Thanks, yeah.”
“The vet will be with you in a minute.”
Oliver resumed his seat, signaling for Strudel to sit at his feet.
He felt rattled and off balance after Brent’s call. He should have told his brother to pull his head in rather than feed his curiosity. Oliver didn’t need to justify himself to anyone.
He picked up one of the magazines piled next to his seat, then put it down again. Brent’s words kept echoing through his head, setting his teeth on edge.
There is an extremely high likelihood that thanks to what happened with Edie your head is still up your ass in some capacity right now.
And: You probably want to be sure that you’re jumping into something because you really want it, not because you’ve gotten comfortable living your life a certain way.
He shifted in his seat, forcing himself to consider his brother’s words, even though they made him uncomfortable. Was it possible he was simply seeking to replicate what he’d lost? Was he simply one lonely, pathetic half of a whole, looking for another half—any other half—now that Edie had revealed their marriage to be a sham?
He was relatively certain the answer was a resounding no. Being married had suited him in many ways, but he hadn’t loved being married that much. He wasn’t lying awake at night missing arguments over the remote control and who left the lid off the toothpaste and whose turn it was to empty the dishwasher. His attraction to Mackenzie was because of who she was, not some sort of limpet instinct on his behalf.
“Strudel Garrett?” a male voice said.
Oliver shot to his feet, wondering how long the other man had been standing there, waiting for him to notice him.
“Sorry. This is Strudel. I’m Oliver.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Jacob. Come in.”
Strudel tried to dig her heels in when Oliver led her toward the examination room and he had to coax her then lift her onto the examination table.
“So, what seems to be the problem?”
Now that it was the moment of truth, Oliver felt both foolish and anxious. Recited cold, Strudel’s symptoms didn’t seem that ominous, and he suspected he was about to be given a reassuring chat and sent home with some information brochures. And yet he couldn’t let go of the fear that something really was wrong.
He listed Strudel’s symptoms dutifully, explaining how rarely she threw up and how bouncy she usually was. He even mentioned that Mr. Smith had been concerned, as though a dachshund’s behavior could corroborate his own observations. A definite low point in the conversation.
Jacob hmmed and aahed, listened to Strudel’s heart, then got a curious look on his face.
“Interesting.”
“In a good way or a bad way?”
Jacob held up a finger to indicate he needed silence, shifting his attentions from Strudel’s heart to her abdomen.
“Right. Well, that would do it,” the vet said, slipping the stethoscope from his ears.
“What?”
“Your dog is pregnant.”
* * *
MACKENZIE HAD A SHOWER after Oliver left, then proceeded to do laps of the house—kitchen to study to exercise room and back—anxiously waiting for Oliver’s call.
She had his phone charging and was so eager for