“She just does.”
“And you haven’t tried to stop her like I showed you?”
Anton shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
Fury charged Cam’s system. He managed a curt, “I mind. And you’ll either follow my rules concerning my dog, or I’ll separate the two of you, understand?”
A stricken look settled on Anton’s face.
Cam knew Anton had bonded with Gracie, which was good for both boy and dog, but he wouldn’t put up with Anton’s blatant disregard of Gracie’s training or of the rules he’d laid down.
“Cam, I think—”
He held his hand up, stopping Domini’s interference, as he spoke to Anton. “I asked, do you understand?”
“Yeah, I get it.” Anton walked off and his bedroom door slammed.
Jesus. That kid pushed his buttons. And it pissed him off that Domini just let Anton retreat to his room whenever he got mad, instead of forcing him to talk. But once again, Cam said nothing. Domini would take the kid’s side, guaranteed.
Gracie whined. He said, “Stay,” sharply, and faced his wife.
Domini rubbed his biceps. “You okay?”
Every time she touched him with concern or caring or passion, he could almost believe she loved him.
“I’m fine. Just not looking forward to trying to break Gracie’s bad behavior again.”
“Do you have to do it yourself?”
“I always have before.”
“We’re here now. How about if we help you? After supper, you can show Anton and me how we should correct Gracie if she veers from her training. That way we’ll all know the right way to keep her in line.”
“Why would you do that?” He frowned. “You don’t like dogs.”
“I’ll admit Gracie’s grown on me.” She sent Gracie a fond look, but her face was serious when she looked back at him. “We need to figure out a way to make this work for all of us.”
Cam knew Domini wasn’t just talking about the dog.
Chapter Nineteen
Week Three…
“Domini, it’s Ginger. I have good news! Anton DeMarco has officially been released into the foster care of Deputy Cameron McKay and Domini McKay, by Wyoming Department of Social Services.”
Domini sagged against the counter. “That is good news, Ginger, thank you. Now what?”
“Now you adjust to parenting a child full-time. Social Services will check in periodically. That’s about it.”
“No, I mean when can I start the paperwork for adopting him?”
Ginger’s hesitation was apparent even through the phone line.
A strange feeling of foreboding flowed through Domini. “What?”
“There are a couple of things to do before you take that permanent step.”
“Like what?”
“First, I recommend you hire a private detective to track down Rex’s remaining family.”
Domini frowned. “That’s necessary?”
“Covering all our bases from the start is very necessary.”
“But I don’t know anything about hiring private detectives.”
“If you’re interested, I can handle it out of my office at my standard rate.”
“Yes. Please. Whatever I need to do, I’ll do it. I don’t care how much it costs.”
Ginger chuckled. “Darlin’, don’t ever say that to an attorney.”
Domini smiled. “So say the detective tracks these relatives down, what happens after that?”
“Then the private detective gives the family official notification of Rex’s death, of financial windfalls of said death, of which I’m going to assume none, and financial responsibilities of said death.”
“Which would be…?”
“Funeral costs. Payment of any outstanding debts. The recipient cannot have the gains without the bearing the losses, understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes. Then what?”
“Once that’s done, we see if there’s any interest in adoption from his relatives.”
Her stomach clenched. “What are the odds that will happen?”
“Slim. However, it is a possibility. You and Cam have a minimum of six months of Anton living with you as a foster kid before you can even think of applying for adoption. And it’ll take the detective at least that long to do the first stage of the legwork on a case like this. Especially if you don’t want to pay through the nose for it.”
“So we should get started right away?”
“Yes. Would you like me to get it set up?”
“Please. And one other thing.” Domini hesitated. “Can you call me with updates? And send your bills to me at the restaurant?”
“Not to your home address?”
“No.”
Ginger was quiet a minute and then she sighed. “You’re keeping Cam out of this?”
“For now. He’s already done so much and this isn’t something he needs to think about until we are actually closer to the adoption process, is it?”
“No. You are the client and I can set it up however you want, but I strongly recommend you include Cam in every step.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s your husband. Because he will be Anton’s adoptive father. Because keeping secrets is never a good thing, Domini.”
How well Domini knew that. “I appreciate the advice, Ginger. Keep me updated.”
Week Four…
Cam dragged ass. Talk about a colossally shitty day. He wanted to tear off his uniform, ditch his prosthesis, stand under a scalding shower, drink an icy cold beer and f**k his wife for an hour.
In that exact order.
He opened the door and chaos whacked him in the face.
His house—his haven—was utterly trashed. Blankets and sheets were draped across every surface. Hell, he couldn’t even see his furniture. The stereo blasted some classical crap with a billion weeping violins. Neither Domini nor Anton were in sight. His blood boiled when he noticed the small bronze statue his brother Carter had sculpted tipped on its side on the floor.
“Domini?” he shouted over the music, picking up the statue.
Her head popped up from beneath a yellow sheet. “Hey! Hang on.” She disappeared beneath the blankets. The music stopped. She reappeared holding the stereo remote. “How come you’re home so late?”
Cam clenched his teeth at her accusation. “I was busy.”
“Anyway, Anton and I were just playing—”