Page 5 of Talk Wicked to Me

“No, please do. Thank you. I’m afraid to do it. I don’t want to hurt him. I used to take him to a groomer, but I haven’t had time to do much of anything beyond walking him since moving here.”

He reached into his bag and took out nail clippers. “I’ll show you how to do it, so you won’t have to be afraid.” He moved closer so she could see what he was doing.

“It won’t help. Gwen showed me a million times, but his nails are black, and one time I cut a nail too low and it bled like crazy. He cried, and I cried, and it was not pretty. I’d rather pay to have it done. I know that makes me a wimpy dog mom, but I don’t want to hurt him.”

“That doesn’t make you a wimpy dog mom. It makes you empathetic.” As he clipped Ollie’s nails, he said, “You were probably far more upset than he was.” He glanced up at her between nail clippings. “I’ll tell you what. The next time you notice he needs his nails cut, pop in here, and we’ll do it at no charge.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“No, but I’d like to.” He finished clipping Ollie’s nails and put the clippers back in his bag. “Heelers and Staffies are loyal breeds, and if he’s been with you throughout your pregnancy that’ll help him around the baby, but he could still get jealous. I know you said it was just the two of you, but do you have someone to help you introduce him to the baby?”

“No. I figured I’d bring the baby home and do it carefully.”

“That can be harder than it sounds if the dog gets jealous.”

“I’m sure we’ll be okay. With the exception of the cookie faux pas, we’ve done great so far.”

His jaw muscles bunched again, and he gave another curt nod.

“What?” she asked.

“Hm?”

“I’m an editor. I notice details. If you grit your teeth any harder, you’ll break a tooth. Just say whatever it is that’s on your mind.”

“I just think it would be helpful for you to have someone around when you introduce Ollie to your baby.”

“I appreciate your opinion. It probably would be helpful, but I don’t have those types of friends yet.”

“Right.” His jaw clenched again, and she smiled, which eased that tight jaw a bit. “Sorry. One more thing to consider. Ollie is a strong boy, and jumping up is dangerous, especially where children are concerned. My brother Gunner and his wife, Sidney, run the animal rescue next door. Sid was a canine trainer in the military, and she’s excellent at it.” He grabbed a business card from the desk and handed it to her. “Give her a call if you’d like help training him.”

She scanned the card. WICKED ANIMAL RESCUE. “Thank you. Maybe I will.”

“Well, your boy looks good. I have a feeling he was feeding off your worried energy earlier, because he’s pretty chill now. But he may get an upset stomach from the chocolate, and he could throw up or have loose stools. If you notice anything excessive, give me a call.” He grabbed another business card and scribbled a number on the back, holding her gaze as he handed it to her. “That’s my cell.”

As she took the card, the single girl in her cheered, and the mama-to-be tried to wrangle her into submission. But that single girl couldn’t help saying, “Do you give your personal number to all your female clients?”

He shook his head. “Are you always this feisty?”

Are you always this hot? “I don’t get out much, and when I do, I never know what’s going to come out of my mouth. Thank you for everything. Hopefully I won’t need to bother you again.” She tucked the cards into her pocket.

“You’re no bother at all, Emerson.”

Her name sounded far too good slipping off his lips. Down, girl. She started to push out of the chair, and he offered his hand. “They need to make maternity pants with a spring on the butt for this very reason.”

He unleashed those killer dimples as he helped her up to her feet, just inches from him. He was bigger and broader than she’d first thought, and holy cow, he smelled as good as he looked. Like sandalwood and a warm hug on a cold winter’s day. She’d bet he could hug like no other, too. God, she missed hugs. Real hugs. The kind that said I will love you through anything. The kind her parents used to give her, but even more so, the kind of embraces her parents had shared with each other. She could still see them holding each other, still feel the longing in her heart to find that kind of love.

Her throat thickened. She reached down to pet Ollie, trying to get her head on straight and scrambling for something to say. “How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house.”

“No, you can’t—”

“Emerson, what did I tell you about my office and my rules?”

She sighed. “Seriously?”

“Yes. Consider it a baby gift.”