Page 7 of Ruff and Tumble

She didn’t answer him. At first, he thought it was because he’d finally gotten the better of her. A pleasant—if shameful—feeling of triumph flooded through him, and he allowed a grin to form. But then the dog gave a heave and a whine, and his grin dropped.

So did he. He fell into a crouch next to Hailey and Bess, suddenly feeling as anxious as he had the day his niece was born. At least he’d been semiprepared for that event. He’d read dozens of books on pregnancy and childbirth ahead of time and even attended a few of the Lamaze classes that his sister, Regina, had insisted on until she decided it was a waste of her time.

Somehow, he didn’t think that slow, careful breaths and soothing Chopin in the background were going to do the dog any good.

“Uh-oh,” he said as what looked like the hind end of a tiny, glistening golden puppy started to emerge inside its iridescent sac. “Doesn’t that mean the puppies are breech?”

Hailey knelt next to him and adjusted the jersey to clear her view of the puppy being born. She was careful to ensure that no part of her body touched his, even though he could feel the warm pulse of her skin next to his. It was such a rare thing in his world—this innate respect for his personal space—that it took him aback. People normally did whatever they could to find a reason to touch him. A hug, a pat on the back, a clandestine foot sneaking up his leg under the table… In most social situations, he was considered fair game. Some days, he felt more like a llama at a petting zoo than a man.

“A lot of puppies are born this way,” she said, her voice dropped to a low whisper. “So I don’t think we need to worry. Bess knows what to do.”

“That makes one of us,” Cole whispered back. “Are we supposed to…catch or something?”

“Sorry, but I don’t think catching is your strong suit.”

“More notes on my technique?”

She ignored him, but the stiff way she held herself indicated that his barb hadn’t missed its mark. “Oh, look. It’s out. It’s so tiny.”

She wasn’t wrong. The puppywastiny. It was also incapable of breathing while inside that sac. Acting more on instinct than reason, Cole reached out to try to clear it away, but Hailey smacked his hand.Hard.

“Don’t,” she hissed. “Bess will do that.”

She wasn’t wrong in that regard, either. Now that the first of her six puppies had been born, the dog took a moment to relax and gently lick her baby. Within seconds, the puppy was free and breathing. It looked more like a mole rat than a dog, but Cole wasn’t going to mention it. He didn’t dare.

“The last time I witnessed the miracle of birth, it was in the same room as a six-foot midwife who told me that she wouldn’t hesitate to kick me out if I got in the way.” Cole shifted his position so the dog had more space to do her thing. He also used Hailey’s distracted state to slip his jacket into the goo-covered fray. Long experience had taught him that those jerseys weren’t made of the most absorbent material in the world. The whole doggy family would be much more comfortable on Italian wool.

“Your beautiful jacket!” Hailey cried. “What’s the matter with you? It’s ruined.”

“I repeat…a six-foot midwife,” Cole said with painstaking deliberation. “She was a grandmother thirteen times over, had buried two husbands, and told me point-blank that she considers football to be the most barbaric physical display in the history of humankind.”

“Shh. The second baby is coming.”

“And she was still a much less strict birthing-room attendant than you are.”

Once again, he got no response, but it was difficult to care as they both watched the second puppy being born. It came with such ease and fluidity that Cole was able to relax.Hemight not know what he was doing, but Hailey had obviously read up on the subject, and Bess had Mother Nature on her side. His Italian wool came in handy as the two shivering pups crowded around their mom for warmth, but he wished he had more to offer them. The stick of gum in his pocket wasn’t going to do them much good, and it wasn’t so cold in the elevator that he needed to resort to burning the cash in his wallet. Yet.

“Is there a reason it’s taking them so long to get to us?” he asked as he stood and began pushing elevator buttons at random. He pressed the alarm button longer than the others, but the jangling seemed to distress the dog, so he gave it up. “Theydoknow we’re trapped in here, right?”

Hailey didn’t answer him. He was already growing so used to her lack of interest in him that he didn’t think anything of it. Instead, he started searching for a ceiling panel or some other kind of emergency access point. There always seemed to be one in the movies, but it was difficult to see where they’d put one among all these stupid mirrors.

“I’ve always thought elevators should stock emergency kits,” he mused, more to entertain himself than because he expected a reply. “Just the basics—granola bars and water and Xanax. I bet people get easily panicked in these types of situations.”

Normalpeople would get panicked, anyway. This particular woman was so caught up in the dog that he doubted she’d notice if he stripped himself naked and started doing the Charleston. The internet would think it the greatest thing in the history of viral videos, but he suspected Hailey would probably point out that he wasn’t doing it correctly.

She’d be right, too. Dancing had never been his strong suit. He’d spent so much of his childhood throwing a football through a tire that he’d somehow missed out on that chapter of his life.

He’d missed most of the important chapters, actually. He could throw a ball and smile for a camera, but that was about the extent of his worldly knowledge.

“Something’s wrong.” Hailey reached out and tugged at Cole’s pant leg. Her hand left some kind of slimy residue behind, but he barely noticed. The fact that she’d touched him—voluntarily, no less—was more alarming than the fact that she was struggling to keep her voice level. “I don’t know what’s happening. The third puppy isn’t coming as quickly as it should. I think it might be stuck.”

Physiologically speaking, Cole had no idea what he was looking at. He’d already maxed out on his knowledge of the birthing process after the first puppy made its appearance, and he wasn’t likely to expand on it anytime soon. However, one glance in the dog’s fretful, pleading eyes, and he realized he didn’t need a veterinary degree to understand what was happening.

She’s in pain.

It was a feeling he knew far too well—not just the bone-searing, soul-deep agony of physical pain but the equally bone-searing and soul-deep determination not to let it show.

“That’s it,” he announced.