Baxter’s mood lightened and he grinned. “Hey, Phoenix.”
“Baxter.” Her gaze zeroed in on the bag.
“Everything you need.” He held it out to her.
“Thank you.”
“I’m just the mule. Your sister got it all together.”
Phoenix turned to Ridley. “I appreciate it.” She carried it quickly to the kitchen table and emptied the contents, putting out the food and two dishes, then unwrapping the soap.
Baxter saw Ridley staring toward the photo of Coop’s deceased wife. She looked aloof, annoyed and so fucking hot, he hurt.
Phoenix affected him differently, in a nicer, lighter way, so he focused on her. She was more wet than dry, and too much sun left her nose and cheeks pink. Her glasses were a little crooked.
Overall, she looked sweet in a natural, earthy, very approachable way.
Total opposite of Ridley, who was more striking, polished and not all that approachable.
He burned for her.
Getting that thought out of his head, he asked, “Who’s getting the bath, you or the dog?”
Phoenix flashed him a smile. “We were in the creek earlier, but most of this is from the dog.” Heading out of the kitchen, she asked, “Want to meet her?” and gestured for them to follow.
In the laundry room, Coop stood at the tub, picking bugs and burrs off a young beagle and dropping them into a waste can.
Ridley had started forward but at the sight of a tick, she backpedaled and hit the wall.
Coop glanced up. “Thanks for coming by.”
“Ridley wanted to help.” He shifted his gaze to her. “Isn’t that right?”
She carefully leaned forward, looked in the wastebasket at what they’d removed from the dog’s fur and swallowed convulsively. “I don’t like bugs.”
So there was something that could unnerve her? Maybe she wasn’t made of heated steel, after all. He couldn’t resist saying, “Wow, look at that one. It’s huge, and it has all those little legs still wiggling.”
Phoenix swatted at him as she turned to her sister. “Ridley, would you wash and dry the food dishes you picked up? I think she’ll be hungry once her bath is done.”
“Glad to.” Edging out of the laundry room, her gaze averted from the can, she darted out.
Smiling, Baxter watched her go. Even in a rush fleeing already dead bugs, her hips swayed and she kept her head high. The way that woman moved...it was enough to get his pulse tripping again. “I guess I shouldn’t have teased.”
“She’ll get even later,” Phoenix promised. “She always does.”
Intrigued by that notion, Baxter held his hand out to the dog, let it sniff, then lightly touched under her chin. “Either of you want to share what happened?”
Phoenix spoke up, giving him a ridiculously brief rundown of how they’d come to have a dog that mostly centered on Coop as a daring hero.
“He saved the day,” Phoenix claimed. “You should have seen him, he was so impressive.”
Biting back a grin, Baxter said, “Sorry I missed it.”
Coop frowned while keeping his gaze on the dog. He’d lathered her up with the flea soap, something the dog seemed to enjoy as she lifted her nose and half closed her eyes in an expression remarkably like bliss.
“If you saw the three idiot kids, you’d know it wasn’t impressive at all.”
“Three of them,” Phoenix stressed. “And they were men, not boys. Cooper was awesome.”
“However it rolled out,” Baxter said neutrally, “I’m glad you were both there to rescue this poor girl.” He rubbed one knuckle under her throat and her eyes closed the rest of the way.
“She’s cute, isn’t she?” Phoenix crowded in next to him so she, too, could stroke the dog.
That got Coop’s attention. He glanced first at Baxter, then at Phoenix standing so close. “While I finish up here, why don’t you go help your sister?”
She carefully worked loose a mat in the dog’s fur. “I doubt she needs any help washing a food bowl or opening a can.”
His frown darkened. “I could use a cup of coffee, if you don’t mind making it.”
She straightened. “Actually, that sounds good to me, too.”
Coop looked relieved. “Coffee is in the cabinet next to the fridge.”
“Got it.” She bent to the dog again. “Enjoy your bath, sugar.”
Coop waited until she’d gone, then looked up at Baxter. “That’s bullshit about me being a hero.”
Folding his arms, Baxter leaned against a cabinet. “Not from her perspective.” He glanced out the door, but Phoenix was gone. “Ridley told me what happened to her.”
Coop shot him a look. “I don’t think she’ll thank her sister for that. Phoenix is private.”
“Guess Ridley needed to talk, too.” He shrugged. “You know I won’t say anything.”
Gently, Coop rinsed the dog—while telling a very different story about their conflict at the creek.
Baxter had to admit, Coop’s version, complete with rage, sounded more realistic. “Damn. Thank God she wasn’t there alone.”
Though fury burned in his eyes, Coop kept his tone even, calm, when he said, “You have no idea how badly I wanted to take those punks apart.”
“I have a good guess.” Baxter knew he would have felt the same.
“Phoenix is stronger than she realizes, but even when she has good reason for caution, she thinks she’s being weak.” Coop snorted. “Like she would stand a chance against three men.”
“Maybe it’s not that she couldn’t take them on, but that it brought up old memories for her. She probably wants to put that in the past, where it belongs, so when something happens to bring it back—”
“She feels out of control.” Coop paused in thought. “I can understand that.” He rubbed the lather along the dog’s back...and her tail went wild. “Happens to me occasionally, too.”
After a long look, Baxter nodded. “To everyone, I suppose.” That was as close as he’d come to admitting he sometimes still dealt with his own shitty memories. “You think they’ll show up tomorrow?”
“I hope so, but it’s doubtful. For one thing, none of them wanted to take me on.”
“Going up against a guy your size is a little different than kicking around a stray, or scaring a woman.”
“Makes them cowards to do either, and I can’t see a coward facing me man-to-man for any reason.” He met Baxter’s gaze. “Sneaking around, though, that I can imagine.”
Would the creeps dare to slink into the park after hours, maybe to commit acts of vandalism? It seemed possible.
“Let Daron know so we can all keep an eye out.”
“I could go back to the creek.” He’d relish the excuse to burn off some energy. “Maybe cross the trestle, take a look around. They probably live nearby.”
Coop was already shaking his head. “It’ll be dark soon. And when I speak with the cops, I don’t want them to think we were looking for trouble.”
Much as Baxter hated to admit it, he had a point. “You’re calling them tonight?”
“I had to prioritize. The dog was covered in mud and too many ticks and fleas for me to want her in the house without cleaning her up first.”
And no doubt, Phoenix had been shaken. “I’ll call Daron soon as I leave here. I’ll let Maris and Joy know, too.”
“Thanks.” Coop lifted the dog out onto a towel spread over the top of the dryer. When she shook, she sprayed them both—as well as the walls and cabinets—making the men laugh. The dog barked in what sounded like happiness.
Baxter smiled at her. “You like being clean, do you, girl?” Clean and safe.
“She has a cut on her ear,” Coop said, drying around the area very carefully, “but I think it’s okay. My guess is she scratched it while running or hiding from those assholes, maybe on a piece of fencing or something.”
While Baxter checked the ear too, the dog’s butt swayed back and forth in bliss. “Yeah, a small cut. Doesn’t seem to bother her.” He saw the gentle way Coop dried her and guessed, “You’re keeping her?”
“Yeah.” He set the dog on her feet. She stared up at him with enormous, adoring brown eyes, still wiggling, waiting for direction. Coop shook his head in amusement, then led her to the kitchen by patting his thigh.
They entered the room, and Baxter stalled.
Phoenix was just opening a pizza box. She smiled at the dog while saying, “Guess what? Maris brought us a pizza, plus cupcakes for dessert. She said it’s her contribution to the dog rescue.” Phoenix set down a food dish and the dog attacked it. “Guess that proves she didn’t eat a chicken!”
Coop didn’t seem to see anything wrong with the impromptu dinner. “Smells good.” He got down plates, handing one to Ridley and shoving one at Baxter.
He automatically took the plate, but said, “I need to get going.”
Ridley shot him a disbelieving look, but he avoided her gaze. He didn’t want this, didn’t want to sit around the table taking part in cozy conversations with friends.
That reeked of something more than hot sex.
More than superficial.
Ignoring his statement, Phoenix dropped a slice of pizza on the plate. “You’ve got a few minutes to eat, right?” Holding his gaze, waiting for an answer, she pulled out a chair and sat.
He felt put on the spot big-time—and damn it, she did it deliberately. He stared back at her. “Maybe one piece.”
Approval curled her lips. “Great.”
Ridley, her back now stiff, gave her sister a dirty look as she took the seat beside her. Mouth tight, eyelids half-closed, she affected a brooding expression. It seemed she didn’t like the situation any more than he did. For reasons he couldn’t understand, that added to his pissed-off mood.
While Baxter stood there arguing with himself, Coop snagged the chair next to Phoenix.
Now he had no choice but to sit by Ridley.
And why the hell was that such a problem?
Because I wanted to fuck her, not engage in social chitchat.
“I can keep her tonight, but let me know if you want a turn.”
Baxter’s gaze shot up, a scowl in place, a protest ready...and he realized Coop was talking to Phoenix about the dog.
Luckily, Coop was watching the antics of the animal, and Ridley had her attention fixed on her plate.
But Phoenix didn’t miss a thing, and she gave him an evil grin.
How had he never noticed her mean streak?
* * *
Bright moonlight spilled through the window, painting soft shadows on the ceiling. The air-conditioning kept the small cabin cool. Phoenix and Ridley were up in the loft, side by side, neither of them sleeping yet.
She felt her gaze the moment Ridley looked at her, and she almost sighed. Truthfully, she was surprised her sister had held back so long.
Phoenix’s body was tired, but her mind wouldn’t settle. What-ifs ran through her thoughts at Mach speed—and in every scenario, she came up lacking.
“You made yourself at home in Coop’s kitchen.”
Well, that was an innocuous enough comment, not at all what Phoenix had expected. “He asked me to make the coffee.”
Ridley turned on her side, propping her head on her hand. “He keeps a photo of his wife on his desk.”
“I’m sure there are photos in other places, too.” His TV room...and his bedroom. When Phoenix thought about the image of his wife, soft was the first description to come to mind. Soft blond hair, soft dark blue eyes, soft smile. Cooper’s wife was a lovely woman—and he’d lost her. It made her heart ache for him.
It made her think about her fiancé, the man she’d pushed away.
She would always feel bad for what she’d done to David, but she knew in her heart that she’d made the right decision when she’d broken the engagement. David deserved someone who would love him as Cooper had loved his wife.
She wasn’t that woman.
Oh, she’d cared for him. A lot. But that she’d wanted away from him after the attack spoke volumes. He couldn’t console her because she hadn’t wanted him to. She hadn’t wanted anything from anyone. Not even her future husband.
Letting him go was the kindest thing to do.
“It didn’t bother you to see the photo?” Ridley asked.
She shook her head. “I think he’s still grieving for her.”
“You,” Ridley said, “are an amazingly wonderful woman.”
Phoenix turned her head to see her sister, not sure what had brought that on. “Thank you. You’re pretty wonderful yourself.”
Ridley was silent a moment, then asked, “Do you know how she died?”
“No.” Phoenix also rolled to her side, but she was too tired to prop herself up and instead just snuggled into her pillow. “Do you?”
“Baxter told me.”
Her sister’s hesitation bothered her. “And?”
“There are...similarities.” She held Phoenix’s hand. “To what you went through, I mean.”
Catching her breath, Phoenix half sat up in denial. “What are you saying?”
Ridley squeezed her hand tighter. “She was shot during a robbery. It was an accident, I think.”
Her heart slammed in her chest. “Shot?”
“Caught in the crossfire is how Baxter put it.”
“How tragic,” she whispered, reclining to her back again. In only minutes, a senseless act of violence had upended Cooper’s life, changing it forever. She couldn’t imagine the heartache he’d suffered.
The sudden urge to go to him, to comfort him, chased away her tiredness. Not that he struck her as a man who would take comfort. No, he was the type of man who would suffer in silence, then push forward through sheer will. A strong man.
A gentle man.
As he’d proved today, a hero.
“Has he ever mentioned her to you?” Ridley asked.
“No.” Phoenix studied the shadows on the ceiling. “Why would he?”
Ridley loomed over her. “Because he’s interested in you, that’s why.”
Maybe he was, but probably not like that. Not for anything beyond a physical relationship. She was okay with that. She couldn’t get involved anyway. A week or two of sex? That sounded about right. Actually, it sounded incredible.
But anything more wasn’t on the agenda.
Right?
That thought was so unsettling, she asked, “What about you and Baxter?”
Ridley sighed dramatically. “We’d been well on our way to getting down and dirty, and I have a feeling it would’ve been sublime.”
Phoenix turned again. “And? What happened?”
“No idea, really, except that Baxter is a dumbass who’s afraid of conversation,” Ridley complained.
Phoenix snorted a laugh. “What does that mean exactly?”
“You didn’t notice how he froze up at dinner?”
“He was a little quiet,” Phoenix admitted.
“Oh, the man was all about getting horizontal, but hanging out together with family and friends? He turned into a silent, withdrawn jackass.”
Dumbass, jackass. The rapid-fire insults led Phoenix to believe that Ridley was hurt, and that fascinated her. “Did the two of you—?”
“No.” Ridley shook her head. “We were headed that way before you called.”
Phoenix could almost hear the regret in her sister’s voice. Gently, she said, “I’m sorry I interrupted.”
“Don’t be.” Her jaw worked. “I’ve decided he’s not worth the trouble.”
“Sex is trouble now?”
Ridley almost snarled. “With Baxter?” She punched her pillow a few times. “Apparently.”
Phoenix had difficulty sorting out the problem. “So you think the idea of getting to know you better actually scared him off?”
“What else? He woofed down a slice of pizza, ate an entire cupcake in one bite, then ran off as if he thought I might wrestle him down and jam a wedding band on his finger.” She huffed. “So stupid.”
“Clearly, he doesn’t know your history—or does he?”
“Not much of it, and it’s just as clear that he doesn’t want to. He wants sex, period.”
Phoenix studied her sister’s face in the pale glow of the moon. Sudden awareness dawned, bringing her more alert. “And you want more?”
“No,” Ridley said with heat—and a touch of desperation. “Absolutely not.”
Sadly, Phoenix knew that wasn’t true. Her sister had loved being a wife, and had looked forward to being a mother. It still broke her heart to know what Robbie had put her through. In a cautious whisper, she asked, “Then what’s the problem?”
“He got me all primed then just...”
Gently, Phoenix probed, “Just what?”
“He abandoned me!”
The outburst took her by surprise. “Well, we did have a little catastrophe with the dog, so...”
“No, it wasn’t that,” Ridley insisted. “He was fine when we first found out about the dog. I figured we’d hang with you guys a bit, then carry on with our plans. But noooo. That was asking too much.”
“Maybe it wasn’t that,” Phoenix said, trying to find a way to make Ridley feel better. The problem was, she didn’t know Baxter well enough to know what motivated him, how he felt about women.
How he might feel about her sister.
“Didn’t you see how he cut me out?” The sound of Ridley punching her pillow again gave away her frustration. “He was downright cold. I doubt he’ll ever follow up on those sexual promises he made. What type of a jerk gets a woman all hot and bothered and then bails?”
A jerk with his own history, Phoenix was thinking, but instead of saying so, she pointed out the obvious. “You were awfully quiet over dinner, too.”
“I was annoyed. Know the difference.”
Oh, she knew the difference—because she did know her sister. Nine times out of ten, when offended, Ridley went for the jugular. With Baxter, she’d withdrawn.
Her sister was in deeper than she wanted to admit, but Phoenix let her off the hook, saying, “We’re a pitiful pair, aren’t we?”
“Not you.” Ridley took her hand again, lunging into the switch in topic. “Look at all the changes you’ve made! I’m so proud of you, Phoenix. So damn proud.”
Her sister’s praise only reminded her of how badly she’d reacted earlier. “There’s no reason to be proud, believe me.” She told Ridley everything that had happened at the creek—including how memories had glued her feet to the ground and muddled her thoughts, how she was useless and didn’t do a damn thing to help.
“Oh, my God,” Ridley groaned theatrically. “That’s such a load of crap and you know it.” Sitting up in a rush, she poked Phoenix in the stomach.
“Omph. Hey!”
“You deserved that poke!” She started to do it again.
Phoenix quickly rolled out of the way, coming up with her pillow as a weapon. “Stop it!”
“No, you stop with the melodramatic self-recrimination.”
“Melodramatic?” Phoenix gasped.
“It’s ridiculous! I’ve never been attacked, but I know I would have been just as cautious under the circumstances. You’re not Superwoman, you know, so give yourself a break already.”
Her frown faded as she realized that Ridley’s argument was very similar to Cooper’s. “What if Cooper hadn’t been there?”
“I hope you’d have had enough sense not to confront the men!”
Sense had nothing to do with it. It was all about fear. “So I should have just left that poor dog to—”
“No,” Ridley said with impatience. “You call for backup instead. What good would it do the dog if you both got hurt? And that’s probably what would’ve happened if you’d done things any differently.”
She had a point. “The problem is that I’m not sure I could have thought that clearly, I was so terrified.”
“With good reason. But look how far you’ve come.” This time Ridley stroked her hair. “I see a world of difference, even if you don’t. You’re here in this crowded resort, mingling every day. You’re actually planning wild sex with Big Sexy.”
“I didn’t say it would be wild.”
“And you’re arguing with me!” Ridley threw out her arms. “You’re well on your way, so stop rushing yourself. Even Amazons need time to heal.”
Phoenix didn’t know what she was talking about with Amazons, but she felt like she had made progress, so perhaps she should give herself a break. “You’re a pretty awesome big sister, you know?”
“Yeah, I am. You definitely got lucky in the sister department.” She grinned, her teeth showing white in the dim light. “But then so did I.”
A yawn interrupted Phoenix’s smile. Finally her brain was as tired as her body. “Maybe we can solve our man problems tomorrow.”
“For sure we won’t figure it out tonight.” Ridley stretched out on her back and pulled a sheet to her waist. “Good night, Phoenix.”
“Night.” With most of her remorse lifted, Phoenix closed her eyes...and thought of Cooper.
It was a nice way to fall asleep.
* * *
The impromptu dinner had helped to curb Coop’s simmering anger. Having Phoenix at his table, seeing her relaxed, knowing she enjoyed playing matchmaker, had all reassured him that she was okay—no doubt still berating herself, but he’d eventually get her over that.
He wasn’t sure if Baxter or Ridley had realized her intentions, but he’d caught on right away when he noticed how she watched the pair. It amused him, seeing this other facet to her personality.
Through her actions, Phoenix had made it clear that she felt part ownership of the dog, but Coop wasn’t sure how that would work. Was she ready for that type of relationship, where they shared a mutual responsibility?
Was he?
He wanted her, yes—wanted her sexually, wanted her happy, wanted her to feel secure. But beyond that...it’d be such a big step for both of them, a step that could lead to more.
He feared he was already on the way to that, so it could be a moot point.
He’d wanted Phoenix to maintain that happier mood during dinner, not dredge up the conflict again by calling the cops in front of her. Because of that, he’d waited until everyone left before notifying the local police.
The timing worked out, actually. He reached one of the men he knew, Officer Gibb Clark, who worked evenings. Coop explained to Gibb what had happened, and the arrangements he’d made to meet with the men tomorrow.
Not surprisingly, based on Coop’s descriptions, and where the conflict took place, Gibb felt sure he knew the men.
“Picking on a mutt sounds like their MO,” Gibb said. “I’ll go by there tonight to see if any of them are still out and about, and if so, I’ll talk with them. As to them coming by to see you tomorrow, I don’t see that happening.”
“I had the same thought,” Coop said. “Seems more likely they’ll show up at night to cause trouble.”
“Afraid so. Let me know if anything happens, and I’ll be out tomorrow just in case they show.”
Coop thought about Phoenix and her sister in the cabin alone. He knew Phoenix locked up every night. Besides, with all the cabins, tents, RVs and fifth wheels, the bastards would have no idea where she was.
He’d paced the kitchen as he talked to Gibb, the dog trotting along behind him. Whenever he stopped, the dog sat, her eyes alert in expectation. It was like having a shadow...with a tongue that hung out and a butt that constantly wiggled.
When he finished the call, he replaced the phone on the desk and turned to look down at her. She jumped to her feet, ears up.
“Ready for bed?”
The question earned him a bark, then she ran three tight circles—looking far from tired.
“I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.” Coop fetched an old blanket and put it in the corner of the kitchen opposite the food and water dish, then called her over with a soft whistle.
Curious, she sprinted to him, ears flopping, butt moving counter to her shoulders. Coop grinned. She really was a cute little thing.
He gestured at the temporary bed. “What do you think?”
She sniffed the blanket, looked at Coop and waited.
“Sorry, but Phoenix isn’t set up for a dog. Her place is too small and she sleeps in a loft—”
Rearing back on her haunches, the dog yapped at him.
Somehow, though it came from a small, adorable pup, that yap felt like a reprimand. “I couldn’t invite her to stay over. Her sister—”
Another yap.
Coop sighed, recognizing the ridiculousness of carrying on a one-sided conversation with a dog. “If we’re going to have these talks, you at least need a name.”
As if she understood, she tipped her head, one ear flopping down, the other cocked in interest.
Kneeling, he offered a hand for her to sniff. “I’ll have to give it some thought. Before your bath, I would have named you Mud. I’m not sure Phoenix would approve, though.”
Butt wiggling, the dog crawled into his lap. With a lusty sigh, she put her head over Coop’s forearm, then looked at him with dark, worried eyes.
“You’ll like it here in the kitchen. It’s cozy and quiet.”
The dog appeared far from convinced. From her perspective, the large kitchen might seem lonely.
Coop glanced at the photo of his wife on the desk area. So often, Anna’s image had kept him company while he worked on accounts, paid bills or researched equipment or employees. Having her near hadn’t filled the emptiness; to the contrary, it had kept the emptiness fresh, as if he’d wanted it to last.
In that moment, it struck Coop that the hollow pain he’d learned to live with was no longer quite so hollow, or quite so painful.
Phoenix, with her smiles, her attitude of determination and her own soft need, had blunted those familiar aches.
His chest constricted, but with a deep breath that he slowly released, everything inside him loosened. It was as if he’d also released the old rage...and the loneliness.
The change had happened so slowly that he hadn’t noticed it—and yet so suddenly that it left him reeling with surprise.
He was different now.
Whatever happened between Phoenix and him, he’d never go back. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he could go back.
As he stared at his wife’s smiling image, he smiled, too. He’d kept photos of her everywhere as if by seeing her, she wasn’t really gone. Somewhere along the way they’d become painful reminders of what he’d lost.
Now, he found the photo soothing, like the whisper of a cherished memory...one that no longer hurt.
He stroked the dog, saying, “She loved animals.”
A tiny voice in his head said, So does Phoenix. Hadn’t she rushed to the dog’s rescue? Despite her fear, she hadn’t suggested that they leave.
No matter what she believed about herself, Coop knew that if he hadn’t been with her, Phoenix would have found a way to save the dog. He just hoped and prayed that, if ever put to the test, she’d know to call for backup before doing anything reckless on her own.
He’d wanted to talk with her, to explain that the situation had warranted her caution. There was no reason for her to think she’d acted cowardly. In fact, he hoped she would stay cautious.
But Ridley had shown up with Baxter in tow, and the tension between them had been like a live thing. Every time Baxter had looked at Ridley, sparks flew—even though Ridley refused to look back. Despite the way they’d tried to ignore each other, it was obvious that Phoenix’s call had interrupted their plans.
Coop would have found it funnier if his own plans hadn’t gone off course.
He wanted Phoenix, now more than ever, and if it hadn’t been for the dog, he’d probably be in bed with her right now.
That realization brought its own concerns.
Her bed was out; Ridley was staying with her and there was only the loft.
And his bed...
With another sigh, the dog closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. Coop knew it was a pretense because every couple of seconds, she looked up at him—as if to ensure he hadn’t budged.
One more glance at his wife’s image—and he made a decision.
“C’mon, girl. Let’s see if you need to do any business before I turn in.” He carried her out, ignoring the idolizing way she licked his chin.
Since it was dark, he kept a close watch on her after sitting her down. Tomorrow he’d need to get a collar and leash, and he supposed a trip to the vet was in order.
While the dog sniffed every blade of grass, Coop stared toward Phoenix’s cabin, then around the resort. All was quiet. Security lights lit the grounds, as well as exterior lights on the campers. There were enough guests that no one could be truly isolated.
Indicating she’d finished, the dog sat on his foot and leaned against his leg.
Coop scooped her up and they went back inside. He locked the door, then carried the dog to the bed he’d made on the kitchen floor. “Be good,” he told her when she started to follow him.
She sat back, her eyes huge, somehow conveying worry.
“It’ll be fine, and soon you’ll prefer sleeping alone.” Hoping she believed him, he turned out the light and went down the hall.
When he reached his bedroom, he undressed and turned back the bed. There on the nightstand was another photo of his wife. She’d been gone five years now, and there had been times that he’d felt like he’d lived a lifetime without her.
Tonight was different.
Because of Phoenix.
Because what he felt for her was different.
He picked up the photo, brushing his thumb along the edge of the frame. “I will always love you, Anna.”
Her image, so serene, gazed back.
He wanted Phoenix to move on, and because of her, he was ready to do the same.
He smiled at the photo and slipped it into a drawer.
The bedroom, he decided, was not a place for dwelling in the past.
With much on his mind, he turned out the light and stretched out on the bed.
Seconds later, the dog started howling just outside his door.