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No one needed to see what she was wearing beneath her skirt. She wondered if people would be surprised to find she preferred plain cotton underwear instead of cute lacy and silky panties. Still out of sorts, she started for Darling and home. Home consisted of an apartment, the end unit of a four-plex in a new development close to the golf course.
She lived there alone.
Besides, Darling was home. She could always count on Darling to stay exactly as it had always been. She was halfway back to town in the purple twilight when her phone buzzed.
She ignored the sound, but a few seconds later it buzzed again, and then again. Sighing, she reached over to the passenger seat and grabbed it. She hit the power button and looked down, only for a second, and when she glanced up again she gasped and hit the brakes as hard as she could. Her heart pounded as she sat for a few moments, numb. Had it been a raccoon?
Throat tight, chest cramped, she got out of her car and ventured carefully toward the front of the vehicle. It was a dog, and it lay on the road, chest heaving, head resting on the dirt. The dog whimpered, tried to get up, but fell back down again. Tentatively she reached out a hand to pat its head, and it nuzzled at her wrist, giving the pad of her thumb a lick.
How dumb and trusting did you have to be to do something like that? She went back to the car and found an old beach towel in the mess that was her backseat. At her best guess, the animal weighed at least fifty or sixty pounds. She was in good shape, but that was still a hefty dog to be lifting into a car. It took another five minutes of struggling and sweating before Oaklee had the dog half on the towel.
Tentatively she reached out a hand to pat its head, and it nuzzled at her wrist, giving the pad of her thumb a lick. He went to the window of his apartment—the living space above the veterinary clinic where he worked—and peeked outside. The last thing she needed was to be practically exposed. If you wish to cancel your account on the Services or delete your information previously provided to us, you may send your request here: Let me hear ya honk it. Rory sighed and peeled off his gloves.
It had yelped several times, and she was crying now, hating that she was hurting it but unable to do anything else. Why had she thought taking the backroads would be a good idea? There were no houses, either. She got her hands beneath shoulders and hips, beneath the towel, and hefted upward. The dog cried out and struggled briefly, then sagged in her arms. The change in momentum sent her staggering toward the car, fighting not to fall down or drop the dog, causing more injury. The dog was panting more now, and its eyes were a bit wild. She stopped and patted its head awkwardly.
Her heart ached knowing how much it must be hurting, and that it was all her fault. It was past nine thirty when Rory heard the tires in the driveway and the slam of a car door. He went to the window of his apartment—the living space above the veterinary clinic where he worked—and peeked outside.
After-hours calls were supposed to go through the answering service. The hazard of living onsite meant that people knew he was there and sometimes stopped in at all hours. Generally he billed them accordingly. Once word got around that an after-hours call cost mega dollars, the drop-ins stopped. A woman got out of the car.
He could hear her loud and clear, though, as she banged on the glass door to the clinic. Unless he was mistaken, that voice belonged to Oaklee Collier. A complete and utter pain in the ass. She looked up and he caught his breath. Oaklee never looked anything but one hundred percent together.
I need you to come take it and. I was out by the lake and coming into town the back way and he just. He went to the car and opened the back door on the passenger side. There was a dog in here, all right, though he shared the space with an astonishing amount of female clutter: The dog was a mutt from the looks of it, with the beard and eyebrows of a terrier and the size and coat of a lab.
The poor thing looked halfstarved and right now was laboring to breathe. He scooped his hands beneath the towel and lifted, cradling the animal in his arms as he stepped back and headed straight for the clinic doors. Photos Add Image Add an image Do you have any images for this title? Edit Cast Episode credited cast: Christine Armstrong Bill Fagerbakke Dauber Dybinski Bruce French Old Woman Noah Nelson Edit Storyline Julie is preparing to go into labor, and concerns arise for Hayden and Christine on whether or not they'll receive the baby when Julie's father and boyfriend show back up.
Add the first question. Nicola Yoon Boxed Set. Nicola Yoon 2-Book Bundle: John Green Box Set. An Abundance of Katherines. The Fault in Our Stars. Bridge of Clay Signed Edition.
"Somebody's Baby" is a song written by Jackson Browne and Danny Kortchmar and recorded in , and made it available on YouTube and SoundCloud. Have Mercy covered the song for their portion of the split EP, with Somos. I want to be somebody's baby. I don't want a child of my own. I was the one who was always strong. And I was always the one left alone. I was the one.
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