The Merriest Magnolia (Magnolia Sisters #2) - Michelle Major Page 0,71
OWN one of your dogs,” Dylan complained the following morning as he filled out paperwork at Meredith’s rescue. “I’m not sure why I need more forms for an animal that weighs less than three pounds.”
“It’s policy,” Meredith told him from where she sat behind a desk crowded with paper, trial-size bags of dog and cat food and various animal toys.
A movement in the corner caught his eye, and he glanced down to see a lop-eared bunny nibbling on the corner of a cardboard box.
Meredith cocked a brow. “You like rabbits?”
“Don’t even think about it,” he warned.
“I think you’re placing the blame on the wrong sister. Carrie invited you here for Thanksgiving and brought Barnaby to your house. She’s the reason you’ve opened your house.”
And your heart, a little voice inside him said. He mentally choked that voice until it was silent. She didn’t have his heart. Hell, no. He was a grown-ass man, more than capable of understanding the difference between love and sex.
He sure wasn’t interested in setting himself up for a good kick in the heart again.
“She’s sneaky,” he said instead, “but we’re full up now. No more rescues or lost causes.”
Meredith didn’t answer but her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him, like he was some kind of puzzle she was trying to solve.
“I didn’t peg you for an unsung hero sort of guy,” she said, rising and handing him a manila envelope.
He shrugged. “You were too busy casting me as the villain.”
“Not exactly a villain, but maybe a second-rate bad guy,” she admitted. “Remember I have two older brothers. I heard plenty of stories about you.”
“All of them true, I’m sure.” He took the envelope from her hand as heat prickled along the back of his neck. He hadn’t thought much about the stupid choices and monumental mistakes he’d made as a teenager until he’d taken responsibility for Sam. Then all the ways he had no business caring for another human came rushing back to him. “By the way, I’m not a hero of any kind. I could give a damn if every single person in this town considers me the bad guy.”
“Even Carrie?” Meredith asked. He hated the way her gaze gentled when she looked at him, like he was some kind of wounded animal who needed rescuing.
Which was absurd.
“We both know how she feels about me,” he said instead of answering the question. Because never in a million years would he admit that he wanted Carrie to look at him the way she used to, as if he hung the moon and the stars. Not when he could walk outside on a sleepless night and count his faults like a million spots of light across a clear sky.
“Do we?” Meredith walked around the desk, bending to scoop up a hulking black cat. “I heard that you told Carrie to focus more on her art.”
“Yeah. You might not remember her from high school, but her paintings were everything to her. At least until her parents divorced and her dad...” He cleared his throat. “Your dad,” he amended but Meredith held up a hand.
“The man who raised me is my father. Niall Reed is the jerk who screwed around with my mom.”
There were so many levels of anger and betrayal in those words, Dylan didn’t even know how to formulate an answer. He nodded, hoping Meredith didn’t expect more than that.
“Niall put the three of you in a horrible situation. He also did a number on Carrie’s confidence. She’s had too many excuses over the years to put her talent aside.”
“Excuses like bailing out the town from the financial mess he caused?” Meredith asked with a humorless laugh.
“Among others.” He gave a pointed look to the fluffy feline in her arms. “She helps you out quite a bit with fostering, right?”
“Are you blaming me?”
“I’m not blaming anyone,” he corrected. “But if the people in her life continue to give her a pass for not pursuing her art because it’s scary or hard, that isn’t going to help her. She needs to be painting.”
Meredith’s mouth thinned and he thought she was going to physically kick him out of her office. But she closed her eyes for several moments—maybe even to the count of ten—and when she opened them again, she nodded.
“Avery and I will talk to her.” She dropped the fluffy cat onto her desk where the animal immediately stretched out like some kind of feline centerfold showing off its private bits. “Again.”