6. Wyatt

When I woke up the next morning, I just lay there for a while, basking in how good I felt.

Soft, clean sheets. A warm blanket. A mattress and pillows that were firm enough to be supportive but soft enough to be spectacularly comfortable. I still ached all over, but this was a million times better than I’d been any morning in recent memory.

My head felt good, too. As if I’d actually slept through the entire night. In fact, I was pretty sure I had. Even when I couldn’t remember my nightmares, they usually left my head foggy and my ears ringing. This morning… none of that. Also none of that miserable pain in my stomach from going too long without eating. I ate better than some of the people out there—my VA disability didn’t put a roof over my head, but it could get me a few meals and it kept my dog fed. Still didn’t mean I was ever particularly full, though, and I inevitably woke up hungry as hell.

I usually woke up with Lily glued to my side, too. She’d spent many nights curled against me inside my sleeping bag. After that had been stolen, I’d wrapped her in my jacket, and she’d stay as close to my chest as she could get.

This morning? She was on her back, legs in the air and going every which direction, which her head partly buried under the pillow. When I scratched her belly, her tail started thumping against the mattress.

I laughed into the stillness, letting my eyelids drift shut again. This was amazing.

And we’re going to wake up like this again tomorrow? Seriously? Holy shit.

I gazed up at the ceiling. I hadn’t imagined that conversation, had I? Anthony suggesting we stay until Lily had finished her medicine? Ten whole days?

I exhaled, wiping a hand over my face. God, I hoped he meant it. I didn’t want to impose, and if he wanted us to leave, we would, but… I hoped and prayed he really was giving us a place to stay for…

I had to swallow against the lump in my throat.

A place to stay for ten. Days.

I hated that my dog had a skin infection, that it was making her itchy, but goddamn, I couldn’t lie—I was grateful too. The infection was mild, fortunately. She had a little itchy spot, but it wasn’t causing her any serious issues or discomfort, and it had secured us a place to stay for a week and a half.

I had no idea how I could ever hope to repay Anthony for any of this. Maybe I’d think of something over the next ten days.

For now, I wanted to get out to the kitchen before Anthony left. I hadn’t slept too late, had I?

There was a clock on the nightstand, and it read 8:17. Okay, good. So he’d probably still be here.

I got up slowly, a few joints popping with the movement.

Behind me, Lily rose, too, and her tags jingled as she stretched.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” I asked her. “Sleeping on a real bed?”

She wagged her tail.

I chuckled and tousled her ears. As I reached for my prosthetic and its liner, she jumped down and trotted to her water bowl. Once I had on my prosthetic, I poured some more food into her dish, and while she ate, I dressed.

My first combat tour—hell, my first time going out into the field for training exercises—I’d sworn I would never again take for granted the feeling of clean clothes. The months I’d spent on the street had only driven that home, and as I dressed this morning, it was borderline orgasmic. Everything was clean. I’d showered last night. I’d cleaned the liner for my prosthetic (I did that as often as I could anyway, but nothing ever felt fully clean out there). My clothes were freshly washed, dried, and folded in a laundry basket. It was amazing.

And it wasn’t just my clothes—I’d washed Lily’s vest as well. After she’d eaten, I put it on her, and she stayed close as I ventured out of the bedroom.

Halfway up the hall, I caught the scent of bacon. Despite not being as empty as it usually was, my stomach growled, because… bacon.

In the kitchen, I found Anthony sitting at one of the barstools by the counter, a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs in front of him. He had on a Seattle Bobcats hoodie, and his dark hair was wet and finger-combed. The thought he’s fucking cute brushed up against me, but another whiff of bacon chased away anything that wasn’t related to food.

“Oh, hey.” He smiled as he put down his phone. Gesturing at the stove with his fork, he said, “I made extra. Help yourself.”

“You sure?”

“Of course. Plates are in the cabinet on your left. Do you want coffee? Orange juice?” He started to get up. “There’s also hot sauce if you like—”

“Sit, sit.” I waved him back. “I don’t want to interrupt your breakfast.” With a little direction from him, I found everything I needed, and then joined him at the counter. Lily sat beside me, and I offered her a small piece of bacon, which she devoured happily.

I started eating as he sipped his coffee. Of course everything tasted amazing. Partly because there was nothing picky about my palate these days, but it also turned out Anthony was a solid cook. Eggs were perfectly salted and not overdone, and the bacon was exactly the way I’d always liked it—not super soft, but not quite crunchy either.

“Sleep all right?” he asked after a minute or two.

“Better than I have in ages. Thanks.” I gestured at the food. “And this is amazing.”

He laughed softly, and I thought he might’ve blushed. “Practice, I guess?”

“Eh, that only goes so far. One of my buddies from the Army could not get it right. We finally convinced him that he should at least try seasoning things once in a while, and then he went to the opposite extreme, and…” I groaned and rolled my eyes. “We just had him bring beer to the barbecues after that.”

Anthony cocked a brow as he brought up his coffee for a sip. “Did he at least have decent taste in beer?”

I made a face and wobbled my hand in the air.

He almost choked on his coffee, but he recovered. “Wow. See, that’s the guy who brings cups and napkins.”

“Yeah, right,” I muttered. “He probably would’ve found the knockoff reject cups that even the PX refused to carry because they were made out of asbestos or something.”

Anthony snorted. “Oh, God. One of those.”

“Uh-huh. Nice guy, don’t get me wrong. Just keep his ass out of the kitchen.”

“Sounds like one of my teammates.” He picked up a strip of bacon and bit off a piece. “Fortunately, his wife is a great cook, so she brings food to everything.” He grinned. “And it annoys him so much that we’re always like, ‘Jody cooked this, right? Not you?’”

I laughed. “Exactly! Does she ever let him cook for team functions?”

“Actually, there’s a funny story about that.” He took a quick swallow of coffee. “Last year at Thanksgiving, she shows up with this container and says Brian made the cookies. And we’re all like…” He made a face that was both dubious and disgusted. “She says to trust her. Then we realize he’s behind her rolling his eyes, so we’re thinking, okay? Did he royally fuck up the cookies and she brought them anyway to troll us?” He picked up his fork again, and as he loaded some eggs onto it, he said with a chuckle, “She opens the lid, and there it is—two packs of Chips Ahoy! cookies.”

“Oh my God!” I laughed again. “That’s hilarious.”

“Right? So now everyone calls him Chip just to piss him off. He gets so annoyed, but it’s—”

A low rumble cut him off. He straightened, his head snapping toward the kitchen doorway, and I thought he mouthed a curse.

My heart jumped. “What?”

Anthony swallowed. Then, just before he ate the eggs on his fork, he muttered, “My boyfriend’s here.”

His… boyfriend? He’d mentioned the guy yesterday, and I hadn’t thought much of it. But why the reaction when the boyfriend showed up?

An engine approached; pulling into the garage, I assumed. Then it shut off, and the garage door rumbled again. A car door shut, and Anthony shifted uncomfortably.

Oh, fuck. Did the boyfriend not know about me? How was he going to react? Was Anthony about to be read the riot act for taking me in? Was I about to get booted out? Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Lily’s tags jingled. She put her paw on the barstool’s rung and rested her head on my lap. As I absently started petting her, I realized alarm had sent my heartrate up. Trying to be subtle, I took some slow breaths and kept petting her as I willed myself to calm down without Anthony noticing I was agitated in the first place.

His boyfriend wouldn’t be dangerous. Anthony would’ve warned me if he was. Right?

Lily nudged her head against me some more.

“It’s okay, baby,” I murmured.

Anthony turned toward me as if he were about to ask what was up, but of course, that was when the door opened.

The man who strode into the kitchen was white, same as Anthony and me, and he was built a lot like Anthony—tall and lean. Like his boyfriend, he had on a Seattle Bobcats hoodie. His hair was lighter and longer, kept out of his face by a backwards baseball cap.

I couldn’t put my finger on anything that was particularly threatening about the guy, but when he looked at Anthony, the air in the room got about ten degrees colder.

Then his eyes flicked to me, and confusion registered as his brows furrowed beneath his hat. “Uh. Hi?”

“This is Wyatt,” Anthony said quickly as he got up from his chair. “He’s a friend of a friend—needed a place to stay for a while.” To me, he said, “This is my boyfriend, Simon.”

Simon and I awkwardly shook hands over the island.

Lily nudged her nose against my arm again, probably sensing my unease with this guy.

“It’s okay,” I told her, giving her ears a little scratch. She relaxed, but not by much.

Simon craned his neck, and when he saw Lily, he turned an odd look on Anthony. “You let a dog in here with the cats?” I couldn’t tell if he was just surprised, or if he was annoyed. Maybe even disgusted. Or maybe he was protective of the cats and thought Lily might be a threat to them.

“She’s a service dog,” Anthony said flatly as he started cleaning off his plate, which was mostly empty at that point. “Where he goes, she goes.”

Simon stepped around the counter to, I assumed, get a better look at Lily. Then he grunted and gave a subtle nod, as if he’d grudgingly decided she was okay.

I was glad I was wearing jeans this morning instead of the shorts I’d put on last night. I hadn’t thought twice about Anthony noticing my prosthetic, but I felt weird about Simon knowing. I couldn’t even explain why; people sometimes interrogated me because they didn’t think being an amputee was a reason to have a service dog. Was he the type of person who’d do that? I had no idea. I did, however, have the sudden certainty that he was the type who’d grill me just to make Anthony squirm. Maybe because Anthony had turned so uncomfortable when Simon had arrived? Just a vibe? No idea.

Either way, I kept my mouth shut, and I remained glad Simon wasn’t aware of my disability.

Simon took out his phone. “It’s almost nine, and the bridge is backing up. We need to go.”

“Of course it’s backing up,” Anthony muttered. “It’s almost nine.”

Simon exhaled in that loud way that meant he was displeased. Fuck, I hated people like that.

Anthony had his back to Simon but not to me, and he rolled his eyes before schooling his expression and turning around. “Let me brush my teeth and we can go.”

Simon made a “well, go on then” gesture.

To me, Anthony said, “I’ll be right back.”

I nodded, not relishing the idea of being alone with Simon. From the uneasiness in Anthony’s expression as he glanced back and forth between us, he wasn’t thrilled about it either.

I thought fast, then said, “While you do that, I’ll take her outside really fast.” I glanced at my plate. “Will this be safe from the cats?”

Anthony laughed. “Just put it in the microwave.”

“Good call.” I put my plate and coffee cup in the microwave, picked up Lily’s leash off the counter, and took her outside.

As soon as we were outside, I released my breath. What the fuck was going on between those two? And holy shit, was I glad they didn’t live together. Something told me Simon wouldn’t have been nearly as accommodating as Anthony. Even if he was, and even though it would’ve been a reprieve from the street, it still would’ve been seriously uncomfortable for both me and Anthony. I’d still have taken him up on it because literal beggars had no business being choosers, but I’d have felt guilty as hell for putting Anthony in that situation.

Well, at least I had a break from Simon for the moment. Lily did her business, and after I’d tossed the bag into a trashcan, I walked her around the yard just to buy us a few minutes.

As we wandered the meticulously landscaped yard, the cold of the morning settled in around my shoulders. I was wearing a hoodie and I’d been indoors, so I wasn’t super cold, but the bitter bite was unmistakable. It was that damp cold that went right through the skin, wrapped around the bones, and stayed there, making everything ache until it went numb.

There were some shiny spots on the pavement, too. Frost clinging to plants and the wrought-iron patio furniture. In my past life, I’d have been out here with an ice scraper, engine idling and teeth chattering as I cleared off my windshield so I could head to work.

In my current life…

I looped the leash around my wrist and hugged myself against a shudder that had nothing to do with the weather. I swore I could feel the phantom chill of concrete through my shirt and jeans. I could feel the helplessness as Lily shivered against me. That was how I’d woken up yesterday morning, aching all over from the awful night, and also wracked with guilt because my poor dog had been so miserable. When I’d realized the next night would only be colder, I’d gotten desperate. I couldn’t get us into any kind of housing, but like hell was I letting her spend another night like that.

Beside me, Lily was happily plodding through the grass, ears up and tail wagging.

Would you have even survived last night?

The thought brought a lump to my throat and a sting to my eyes. A few times, I’d seriously considered giving her up. Yeah, I needed her, but she needed a home, a warm bed, and food. When the winter had started out mild and we’d had enough bedding to stay warm and dry, I’d thought maybe we’d be okay. Just ride it out until the weather got better. Seattle winters weren’t bad. We could handle it.

Then suddenly there’d been nothing to keep us warm or dry, and making her stay out there with me had been cruel. If the clinic hadn’t worked out, then I would’ve taken her to the shelter. It was a no-kill shelter, fortunately. They normally didn’t take Dobermans, but they’d assured me they would take her and turn her over to a local Doberman rescue. I wouldn’t have been able to get her back, but I’d have made sure they had the number of the woman who’d trained her. Ideally, they would’ve made sure Lily went back to her trainer. If not, they’d have found her a loving, safe home.

Either way, Lily would’ve been all right. Come hell or high water, my dog would’ve been safe and warm, even if I’d had to let her go.

I leaned down and patted her rump. She looked up at me, panting happily as her tail wagged.

I had no idea what she and I would do when we were back out there on the street and the temperature dropped again. I had no idea if I’d make it through the winter without having to surrender her.

But we were safe for now.

Anthony, you will never know how grateful I am for this.