Page 86 of Bailey-Rose: The Complete Duet

Waffles cut off any further argument as he crawled out from under my legs and shoved Warrick out of the way. Warrick clearly hadn’t been expecting that and toppled over, but thankfully, he’d been crouched beside me so he didn’t have far to fall.

“Sorry about that,” Hank muttered, helping Warrick to his feet. “This particular breed is a one-person-only type. They won’t be a danger or threat to anyone else unless there’s a reason, but I definitely wouldn’t call them a friendly breed.”

“Good to know,” Warrick said, brushing himself off. “Although, I have to say I like that trait for this particular situation. It means that nothing and no one will be a distraction or even tempt him to leave Bailey-Rose’s side.”

“That’s the heart of it,” Hank agreed, dropping to one knee by me. “All right, little lady, I’m going to put Waffles’ harness on him and show you a few key things. Don’t worry if you can’t remember it all. Part of buying a dog from me is that I spend a few days working with you. The most important thing about a working dog is learning to speak the right language.”

Hearing that I would have something purposeful to do made me giddy. The past two and a half weeks had been rough as Dr. Arbour warned me. Although it wasn’t in the way you’d think. I was used to going through various therapies after a long hospital stay, and the pain was the worst I can remember, but the inability to do anything was the real torture—restrictions on how much I could lift, not going up and down stairs, and feeling utterly exhausted after a ten-minute walk. Learning to work with Waffles was going to be the mental game I needed to keep from losing my shit.

“Are you able to sit up on your own, or will you need his help with that?” Hank asked once Waffles was suited up.

“I can do it, but it’s rather painful right now,” I admitted.

Hank nodded and proceeded to show me how to call Waffles over, where to grab the leather harness, and tips to get back on my feet once I was sitting up. It was like I’d climbed Mount Everest with how accomplished I felt to have managed that on my own.

“This is a soft-handled harness, but you can easily switch it out for one with a semi-rigid top handle if need be. Personally, I don’t see you needing it once you’re fully recovered,” Hank reasoned. “I hope I’m not overstepping when I say I think we should call it here for the day. Sounds like you’ve had a lot going on, and it would be good for you and Waffles to just spend time together. I’ll have you take the harness off when you’re ready so you know how. Nothing you do will break or damage it, so don’t be shy.”

“Thank you, Hank. You really have no idea what this means to us,” Gareth said, shaking Hank’s hand. “If you follow me, I’ll show you to the guest house where you can settle in.”

“Oh, there’s one more thing…” Hank admitted, setting Nugget on the ground, who instantly bolted to sit between Waffles’ legs. “I hope you don’t think me dishonest, but Nugget and Waffles are a package deal. Nugget was trained to be a psychiatric service dog, but the poor fella got attacked by a stray, and since then, Nugget has been a nervous Nellie about most things. However, when he’s with Waffles, Nugget is fearless and able to live a happy life. We aren’t charging you for him since you’re doing us and Nugget a favor by taking him on too.”

“Will there be any issues with Waffles doing his job with Nugget around? Or companies, for that matter, having two dogs in tow?” Yun-Sun inquired.

“Not at all. You put service gear on Nugget, and he’ll mind, knowing he’s on the job. The problem is Nugget doesn’t think he can do his job without Waffles. Guess you could say Waffles is Nugget’s support animal,” Hank explained. “One of these days, Nugget might find his footing again, but who knows how long that will take. Either way, he is a fully certified and trained service dog, so you’re not lying or breaking any laws by putting him in his vest. Plus, he’s the snuggler out of the pair, so it’s a nice balance.”

Grinning, I kneeled to pet Nugget, beyond excited to have him added to our family as well. “Welcome to the pack, you two.”

As I sat on the table in the exam room waiting for Dr. Arbour to come in, I absently swung my legs, trying not to get too excited. Today marked five weeks since my surgery, and while I still wasn’t at a hundred percent, I would safely say I was at a solid ninety percent back to normal. All the goals Dr. Arbour wanted to see me accomplish before clearing me I’d met, and then some. There was nothing I wanted more than to be released from medical restrictions and free to get started living my life again.

Waffles lay on the floor with Nugget sitting alert beside him, his little black nose taking in all the scents of the room. Hank and I worked together for about a week as he taught me all the commands needed to work with Waffles. He’d been trained in a different language, and if I didn’t say the word just right, Waffles didn’t react fast enough. Hank gave me an audio recording to listen to so I could hear the inflections in the correct areas.

When it came to the medical alert tasks, Waffles did that on autopilot as did Nugget. Up until a week and a half ago, I’d been sleeping alone. Dr. Arbour and the guys feared rolling on top of me or rogue limbs smacking into me before I was healed enough. Thankfully, I had Nugget. He’d curled up right next to my head and would be there with a comforting lick when I woke up from nightmares. Now that I was off all the heavy medication, they were much better and less frequent, but there were still some nights I woke up in a cold sweat seeing Randall’s face looming over me.

Since the beginning, two of the guys would sleep in the room with me on mattresses they set up. They would comfort me until I fell back asleep, but it was nothing like the feeling of being safe and wrapped in their arms. Just this week, I returned to my nest, and one of them snuggled up with me for the night. My hope was once Dr. Arbour gave me the all clear, I could convince them to get their asses back in my bed. Then maybe something else they’d been reluctant to test the limit on would happen. This Omega was getting needy, and there was only one solution to sort out that issue.

“Hey, kiddo, sorry to make you wait,” Dr. Arbour said in greeting as he went straight to wash his hands. “I was waiting for the lab to send your stress test results back so I could look them over. Seems they are training some new people, and it got lost.”

“Here I was thinking you just wanted to torture me,” I shot back with a grin. “After you clear me today, I won’t need to see you for the next three months, and this is payback.”

Dr. Arbour chuckled and began his physical examination, which caused Waffles to sit up, watching the doctor carefully. I held up a hand, telling him to stay just to be sure he didn’t decide Dr. Arbour was doing something to hurt me.

“You’d think after our third meeting, he’d know I wasn’t going to harm you,” Dr. Arbour muttered. “Deep breath, as deep as you can and hold it. Now let it out all the way until there is nothing left. Good and good. Lungs sound excellent, no fluid buildup or restricted movements.”

Next, he swiped the torture device off the desk and handed it to me. Glaring at it, I placed the tube between my lips, took a deep breath, and blew as hard as I could to get that damn little red ball to the black line. Out of everything, this was the one task I struggled with the most. My lungs were slightly underdeveloped due to the genetic issue I faced, as well as not being able to push the limits of my body to strengthen them.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough… you’re turning purple, kiddo,” Dr. Arbour said, grabbing the device and pulling it away. “You know I don’t expect you to hit the line yet, but you sure came damn close that time. I bet at your next appointment in three months, it will be easy-peasy for you to do.”

My eyes grew wide. “Wait, does that mean you’re clearing me?”

“It sure does, Miss Thatcher,” Dr. Arbour announced, scribbling something on my chart. “As of this moment, all medical restrictions are removed. Hold on, there,” he said, cutting off my escape. “There is a reason I asked to have this appointment in private. I know those men love you and want the best for you, but some matters are yours to decide for yourself.”

That made me curious. “Like what?”

“Birth control,” he stated. “I know you’re already on it, but what I want to ask is how long do you want to be on it? There are many options besides pills if you choose to be on it for the near future. I can inject an implant that offers two, three, or five years of protection. Then you don’t have to worry about missing a dose. However, if you want to try for kids in the next year or sooner, then I’d suggest sticking with what you’re doing now.”

“Why would you need to ask me this alone?” I pressed.

Dr. Arbour let out a sigh. “You have not had to experience the pressure many Omegas face since until now, you couldn’t have children. In many packs, not all, there is an understanding that children will be part of an Omega’s duties. I realize that sounds very old-world, but I’ve found the answer I get with the Alphas in the room and without are entirely different. So now, as a rule, I have this talk in private so we can have an honest conversation.”