Man's Best Friend (The Dogmothers #5) - Roxanne St. Claire Page 0,33

thought about for twenty-four hours.”

She gave a smug smile. “So you are thinking about her.”

This time, he gave her the get real look.

“Dec, she’s your age, right?”

“A year younger.”

“So, she’s forty? I mean, wanting a baby is so natural and normal. Especially for a woman who’s put her heart and soul into a career. Her clock’s ticking, even with modern medicine.”

He huffed out a breath, more than a little irritated that he came for backup and got pushback instead. “She doesn’t need me and my…” Baggage. “It’s no big deal for a woman to have a baby on her own. Or adopt one.”

“True, but maybe that hasn’t worked out. Maybe she doesn’t want a stranger’s baby. Maybe she has her own reasons for wanting yours.”

“She never said she wants mine,” he told her. “This came from her grandfather.”

“Why don’t you talk to her?”

He looked away, scratching his neck, hating the question.

“Dec?”

“I will. I…I…” He shook his head. “There’s a lot unsaid between us, Ella. We have a complicated history. It isn’t like we can sit down and start…making a baby, for God’s sake.”

“Which is not usually done in the sitting position, although I suppose you could try.” She bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“Why is this funny to you?” he demanded.

“Because you’re so smart and capable, always in complete control, and now you’re…” She twirled her finger. “Unraveling.”

“I’m not…” Yeah, he was.

“Declan, listen to me.” She reached out and took his hand. “I’ve watched you—we all have—for all these years. We’ve watched you close off and shut down and systematically keep every woman at a safe distance and sabotage any relationship you’ve ever had.”

He looked skyward. “You really need to give up the dog-treat business and hang your shingle as the town shrink.”

“All I’m saying is you don’t have to be our substitute father anymore, sweet brother of mine. Maybe it’s time you think about being a real one.”

The second person in less than twenty-four hours to say that to him. He waited a beat, then lifted a brow. “Those grannies paying you?”

“Are you kidding?” She flicked her pink-tipped nails. “The longer they focus on you, the more time I have to be young, free, and single. Who’d want to be in a relationship? Ugh.” She stuck out her tongue, suddenly looking like the ten-year-old pest he remembered so well. “No, thanks.”

“You little hypocrite.” He snagged the bag of treats and pointed it at her. “Not a word, Ella Mahoney. Not a word to anyone.”

She gave a tight smile and made an X on her chest.

By the time he reached Gloriana House, he realized his sister was right about way too many things. He did need to talk to Evie, but he shuddered at the idea of a conversation like that.

A baby. Jeez.

And holy hell, he was thinking about it.

Chapter Eight

There was something about the smell of the animal hospital at Vestal Valley College that put Evie at peace. It smelled like…home.

Or maybe that was the clean, masculine scent of the man next to her as they walked out of the exam room, confident that Judah was in good hands for his MRI.

“You sure he can handle anesthesia?” Declan asked, holding a door that led to a long hall.

“It’s only a twilight, and he’s a sturdy guy and shows no other signs of sickness,” Evie said, using the same tone she would with any pet parent, then her expression softened. “But I really wanted to be in there.”

“I thought they’d let you.”

“Hospital policy.” She shrugged. “I understand, but…” She paused at an exam room to see a vet instructing two young students on how to do an abdominal check on a big black cat.

“That’s a good boy, Kittah,” the doctor said, and Evie could feel her whole body pulled toward the room, wanting to check Kittah, too.

Right before they reached the reception area, she glanced into a room lined with a crate wall, nearly every cage occupied. This time, she couldn’t help herself. With a quick look around, she took Declan’s hand and brought him with her.

“Let’s peek at the patients,” she whispered, making him chuckle.

“You can’t help yourself, huh?”

“Nope.” Inside the room, she inched closer to the first cage to see a beautiful white Lab with a name card that said Brinkley.

“Hey, Brinkley,” she whispered, getting a sigh and a flutter of his lids. “Oh, you’re not feeling so hot, are you, sweetheart?”

After a minute, she stepped to the left and stroked the tiny orange paw that a