Page 36 of Worth the Fall

“Did he already have an owner?” Clara asked, her mouth hanging open as she waited for his response.

“Nope. And the vet doesn’t think he’s had one for a long time, if ever,” he responded.

“How come?” Clara wondered. My little inquisitive girl.

“Because she said he was malnourished.” Before Clara could ask him what that meant, he explained, “That means he wasn’t eating enough food. And she said he had fleas and stuff in his ears, so I had to leave him there for a few days so that they could clean him up and make sure he was okay for me to bring home.”

She squirmed, and Matthew put her down on her feet.

She started clapping her hands together in clear approval. “So he didn’t have an owner? That’s why you get to keep Jasper? He’s your dog now?”

Her excitement was fucking adorable, but Patrick could have at least warned me what I was bringing her into. If she started asking me for a dog, I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to tell her no until I caved. I was a total sucker when it came to my daughter, and I wasn’t afraid to admit it.

“Yep. He’s my dog now.” Patrick sounded happier than I’d heard him in a long time.

“Well, where is this apparent dog? I don’t see one anywhere.” Matthew put his hand up to his eyes to shield out the setting sun and looked around the property dramatically.

Patrick whistled loud before shouting, “Jasper! Come here, boy!”

We all waited.

“Jasperrrrr,” Clara shouted as loud as her little voice would allow.

The dog never showed up.

“He’s still learning his name,” Patrick said, and we laughed.

“What if he doesn’t come back?” Clara asked, her little bottom lip sticking out in a pout.

“Ah, he will. I think he has to get used to being an inside dog. He’s been outside for his whole life,” Patrick said right as the dog came running toward us at full speed.

The pup skidded to a stop, his paws doing what he’d commanded of them as he looked up at Patrick with what I could only call adoration. My brother leaned down to pat his head and ruffle his ears.

“Good boy, Jasper. Wanna go inside?” he asked like the thing spoke English, but maybe it did because it hauled ass up the first set of stairs and onto the main deck before any of us even moved.

“I’ll be right up,” I said as I opened up the passenger door and grabbed the casserole from the floor.

Clara took Matthew’s hand in hers, and she walked with him instead of me.

It’s fine.

I’m fine.

“I want a tour,” I said once we reached the main level and I took in the view. It was so peaceful up here. “But first, we need to put this in the oven, or it will never be ready,” I said before making my way indoors and searching for his kitchen.

I spotted Clara sitting on the ground, petting Jasper, who was curled up on some oversize dog bed that actually looked like it might be comfortable for a person to sit on. It was one of the fluffiest things I’d ever seen, and Jasper was completely passed out.

There was a fire roaring in the stone fireplace with wood and copper accents everywhere. It was like stepping into the golden age of country cowboy. Everything looked authentic, but still modern. When my eyes landed on the kitchen, I had to catch a breath.

Damn.

The kitchen was top-notch. Gorgeous woods framed top-of-the-line appliances perfectly. They weren’t mismatched or out of place.

“Is this Michelin-starred chef approved?” I asked as I placed the casserole on top of the massive island.

“They said it was the best,” Patrick answered, but there was only one reason why he’d have a kitchen like this put in his home. And it wasn’t for himself.

“For what? A cooking battle? Is Bobby Flay hosting his shows here?” Matthew asked. “That would be cool. I like the guy. Maybe you could invite him to come cook for us. I bet he’d love this kitchen.”