Take a Chance on Me (164 page)

Leelee sighed and rolled her eyes to the ambulance ceiling. "I know. You want to marry Emma. I know she's pregnant. Nice going, by the way. Ever hear of a condom? So whatever. Go ahead. I don't care."

Thomas chuckled. "That wasn't what I wanted to ask you."

Leelee gazed down at him, shocked by the tender look in his face, the affection she saw there. And it wasn't a creepy kind of affection at all—it was just nice. Just warm and nice, and it was the weirdest thing, but the hole inside her was being filled up—filled up with whatever it was she saw in this man's eyes.

"Do you think Emma can learn to share?"

"Share what?"

Thomas grinned, raised a hand and began to fiddle with one of her errant blond curls. He let his fingers stray to her cheek. "You, Elizabeth. I was hoping Emma might be willing to share you. I was hoping you might be willing to become my daughter when Emma becomes my wife—kind of like a package deal."

There was nothing Leelee could say, because this was the single most wonderful moment of her life. Of all the men in the world who could have been her father, she'd wound up with Thomas.

She'd somehow ended up with the best.

"So what do you say, junior?"

She felt herself smile, despite her best efforts. "Sure. Whatever." Then she tossed Hairy to the stretcher and flung her arms around Thomas's neck.

« ^

"So where are we eating?" Rollo asked.

"Bayside Stella's." Thomas ushered everyone out into the convention center parking lot to the three waiting cars, his arms laden with costumes.

"Yeah? Well, I sure hope you called ahead." Pam threw him a scowl as she herded Petey and Jack into their minivan. "We'll be waiting hours otherwise."

"I called ahead," Thomas answered patiently, then nodded toward Franco. "Outside table for ten with a high chair and the okay to bring two lapdogs."

"He thinks of everything," Franco laughed. "You'd have made a great wedding planner, Thomas."

"I think he should stick to coaching and teaching, don't you, honey?" Beckett squeezed Mrs. Quatrocci's hand.

"Absolutely," she said, smiling up at him.

Sigh.

What a motley crew we are. I can hardly remember the days when it was just Slick and me. It seems like another lifetime—I guess it was.

Uh-oh. Quiche Lorraine, that little minx, just winked at me again. Can't you see I'm exhausted, woman?

Females. What can you do?

"Dadda! See goggy!"

"Yes, T.J., I see the dog. It's Hairy."

"Goggy! My!"

Nope—not even Thomas Jenkins Tobin is going to ruin my good mood today. Because of all my victories, this one was the sweetest.

The instant we stepped into the competition ring and Leelee's eyes latched onto mine, I knew that Junior Freestyle trophy was ours.

Sometimes, you just know it's going to be good.

"We'll see everyone at the restaurant!" Emma yelled, waving.

It was the finest performance of my career, no question. That instant of magic with the piano intro. Then:

"At first I was afraid. I was petrified…"

Left paw out, around in a dramatic sweep to my side. Repeat on the right, while Leelee did the same with her hands.

Then the pound, the soul-rocking beat, and we were on our way—one, two, stop, turn. One, two, stop, turn. Fabulous!

"Come on, champ, get in the car." Thomas grinned down at the little dog, sitting on the asphalt, staring off as if deep in thought. Then Hairy looked up at him, and damned if he didn't smile.

Weave to the left. Weave to the right. Feel it. Move it. Work it. Be the song. Leelee's nose was high, her chin defiant—that girl is a born diva! And she looked smashing in the silver lamé jumpsuit and top hat…

"Hairy! Come on up, boy!" Leelee called from the back seat of the Montero.

Uh-oh. Looks like I'm going to have to sit between Bright Eyes and the Little Mutant. The thing is a brute.

The other night it got hold of me and I thought for sure my neck was going to snap like a twig. Scary. But what can I do? It was already half again my size the day it was born. God only knows how much it weighs now, but it looks like a miniature Big Alpha running around the house, only with a lot less balance.

"Come on, ace. You're holding up the show."

I suppose I'll manage. The thing seems to make everybody smile, especially Soft Hands. Seems she's always smiling, she's so in love with Big Alpha. So happy with her kids and her farm and her work.

It was crazy for a while there—Big Alpha fainting when Soft Hands started to whelp, the bad man's trial, Leelee's adoption, TV Man and Big Alpha switching houses like they did. But things have settled down. And life is good.

Thomas's voice was loud. "Would you come on, Hairy?"

Yeah, yeah, keep your shorts on.

"Goggy! Goggy! See!"

"Watch out, honey. T.J.'s got Hairy by the throat again." Thomas peeled the baby's fingers from the dog's neck and gave Leelee a kiss on the cheek. Then he got behind the wheel, next to his wife. It made him grin every time he thought about it—his family. His wife and two kids.

Not bad for a sterile guy.

As they drove to the restaurant, listening to the latest Backstreet Boys CD, Emma reached over and grabbed his hand. Thomas pulled it to his lips and kissed her knuckles, and realized he couldn't remember what he'd done before she became his companion and lover. His center.

"It's strange, isn't it?" Emma said.

"What is?"

"Life," she said with a sigh. "Life is just weird, you know?"

He pressed his lips against her hand again, hiding his chuckle. Yeah, he knew what she meant—they'd just spent six hours at the Annual World Canine Disco Dancing Championships, and that was as weird as it got. But not necessarily weird in a bad way—just odd. Different.

Ah hell, it'd been a blast.

"I think that as long as we're all on the ride together, life's just perfect, Emma."

"Excuse me while I hurl!" Leelee yelled from the back seat.

"Goggy!" T.J. shrieked, yanking on the white poof of hair on the dog's head.

Hairy sighed.

Then his nose twitched.

And he wondered just how much longer it would be before the thing was housebroken.

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