Marriage Seasons 03 - Falling for You Again (36 page)

“We have to wash the dog,” Ashley announced. She bent over the tub and began running warm water. “Pick it up and put it in here. We’ll use your shampoo. Ugh, this creeps me out. What if the fleas get everywhere in the house? Pick it up, Brad!”

“
It?
” He looked into her red-rimmed brown eyes. “The dog is a male. And I’m going to bed.”

“No, you’re not!” She grabbed his shirtsleeve. “Put that puppy in the bathtub, Brad, and I mean it. I hate fleas. I can’t stand bugs. I’m going to ask Jay which exterminator they use.”

“Who’s Jay?” Brad demanded as he lifted the puppy and set him into the tub. “You never mentioned Jay.”

“He works at the club. He’s in charge of customer relations.”

“How old is this guy?” Dread dropped like a stone into the pit of Brad’s stomach as he pushed the puppy toward the stream of water running from the faucet. In the time he’d known Ashley, she had never mentioned any men at the country club other than the bartender, the chef, and the busboys—all of whom were too old or too young to attract her interest. Knowing how hard he was fighting his attraction to Yvonne Ratcliff, Brad suddenly realized he ought to keep his eye on his own wife. If he could feel so strongly about—

“
Yow!
” As the puppy slid under the warm cascade, he let out an ear-shattering yelp, spun around, and began trying to run in the other direction. Tiny claws clattering on the tub’s porcelain surface, he made no progress whatsoever to get away from the water.

“
Yow! Wow-wow-wow!
” Wailing piteously, he slipped and fell belly-first into the puddle that had collected around the plug. Trying to –stagger to his feet again, he clunked his head on the side of the tub.

“Oh, my goodness!” Ashley lifted him out of the water with both hands and gathered him in her arms. “Are you okay? That was a bad bump. Let me see.”

Dumbfounded by his wife for the umpteenth time that night, Brad watched as she carefully examined the puppy’s furry little head. Finding nothing wrong, she pressed her lips to one floppy ear. The dog licked her cheek, and she giggled.

“Stop that, you silly goober,” she murmured. “Now you’ve got to get into this tub and have a bath. No ifs, ands, or buts. Oh, Brad, I’ll bet he’s never been washed. Isn’t that awful? He looks like he crawled out from under a barn somewhere. I bet he misses his mama and his brothers and sisters. Poor little fella.”

Brad knelt beside Ashley as she placed the puppy into the tub again, held him firmly with one hand, and ladled warm water over him with the other. Knowing instinctively what she would want next, Brad squirted a trail of shampoo down the dog’s back.

“Help me hold him,” Ashley instructed. “He’s not going to like this.”

With both grasping the squirming pup, they worked the shampoo into a lather. Instantly, the foam turned brown as the dirt turned to sludge and began dripping into the tub. Ashley fussed and clucked over the dog while working shampoo through the long hair on his ears and body and down to the end of his tail. Just as she leaned back to take a breath, he gave a mighty shake, splattering the bathroom and its two human inhabitants with muddy suds.

“Oh no!” Ashley squealed, bursting into laughter. “Grab him, Brad. He’s getting away.”

The muck in the tub giving him traction, the dog was doing his best to leap out. Brad could hardly keep a grip on the slippery ball of bubbles.

“
Yarp! Yarp! Yarp!”

“Run some clean water on him,” he told Ashley. “I can’t hold him.”

“He’s getting away!” she shrieked as the puppy shook himself again.

She cupped her hands under the running tap water and threw it over the dog. Brad managed to wrap both hands around the animal’s tummy, spreading his fingers as if holding a football. Despite the howling and yowling, he shoved the puppy back into the warm stream and helped Ashley rinse him down.

“He’s brown!” she exclaimed. “And here’s a white spot on his head. Look at his legs—they’re white too. I thought he was gray, didn’t you? Let’s shampoo him again.”

“Again?”

Though Brad considered this a very iffy idea, he cooperated as his wife lathered the puppy one more time. Now the soap foamed up white, and the defeated dog submitted mournfully to his final rinse.

Grabbing a towel, Ashley wrapped the wet puppy and nestled him in her arms. “He’s so sweet,” she murmured. “Look at his big brown eyes, Brad. Isn’t he adorable? And now he smells good too. Poor boy. You’re lonely, aren’t you? Yes, you are. Just a lonely little baby boy.”

Brad perched on the toilet lid. It had to be one or two in the morning. In a few hours, he’d need to shower, drink some coffee, and head off to the condominium complex his employer was building near Sunrise Beach. His boss didn’t like the men showing up late, and he had little tolerance for nonsense. The work was steady, it paid well, and he had made some good friends. But other than that, Brad couldn’t find much to like about his job. The last thing he needed to be doing was washing a puppy in the middle of the night.

“He’s really cute, Brad,” Ashley said, her own brown eyes turning on her husband. “You found him in a parking lot?”

“Larry’s. I was on my way in with Mack when we heard this hullabaloo coming out of a cardboard box. The little guy was inside. I couldn’t let him freeze.”

“Aww.” She leaned up and kissed her husband’s cheek. “I didn’t know you had such a soft spot.”

“Hmm.” He rested his elbows on his knees.

“What?” she asked.

“Sometimes I’m not sure you know much about me at all, Ash. Seems like we fight most of the time these days. It’s as though we’re enemies instead of two people who are supposed to be in love. A few minutes ago you said you were mad at me because I exist.”

“Don’t bring that up, Brad. I said I was sorry. I didn’t mean it.” She shook her head. “I’m so tired, and the house is a wreck, and we work all the time, and nothing is ever fun anymore. We aren’t fun. I don’t know what happened to us.”

“
Brrrp
…
brrrp
…
brrrp
…”

Ashley glanced down at the puppy in her arms and then smiled at Brad. “He’s asleep,” she whispered. “He must be exhausted. And look at this bathroom. And us.”

It was a sight to be seen, Brad had to admit. The white tile walls wore polka dots of brown mud. His shirt was sopping, and he was wearing only one sock. Ashley had the dog bundled up against her chin, but Brad had no doubt her nightgown would be dripping wet.

“I’ll rinse the tub,” he suggested, “and you find some kind of box for him to sleep in. How’s that?”

“I love you, Bradley Hanes,” she said, kissing him again. “I love you, and I want everything to be wonderful again for us.”