The Choice by Nicholas Sparks Page A

favorite time of year.” He opened his arms wide to take in the sky and trees. “Not too hot, not too cold, and blue skies that stretch forever.”
    She smiled, refusing to eye his admittedly sexy hip muscles, which, she always thought, were far and away the sexiest muscles on men.
    “How’s Molly doing?” he chattered. “I assume she made it through the night okay.”
    Gabby cleared her throat. “She’s fine. Thanks.”
    “And the puppies?”
    “They seem okay, too. But they made quite a mess.”
    “They’ll do that. That’s why it’s a good idea to keep them in a smaller area.”
    He flashed those bleached teeth in a familiar grin, way too familiar, even if he was the hunk-who-saved-her-dog.
    She crossed her arms, reminding herself how sneaky he’d been the day before. “Yeah, well, I didn’t quite get to it yesterday.”
    “Why not?”
    Because you distracted me, she thought. “I guess I just forgot.”
    “Your garage must smell to high heaven.”
    She shrugged without responding, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
    He didn’t seem to notice her carefully choreographed response. “Listen, it doesn’t have to be complicated. But pooping is all puppies do for the first couple of days. It’s like the milk runs right through them. But you’ve got the pen up now, right?”
    She tried her best to keep a poker face but obviously failed.
    “You don’t?” he asked.
    Gabby shifted from one foot to the other. “Not exactly,” she admitted.
    “Why not?”
    Because you keep distracting me, she thought. “I’m not sure I need one.”
    Travis scratched at his neck. “Do you like cleaning up after them?”
    “It’s not so bad,” she mumbled.
    “You mean you’re going to give them the run of your whole garage?”
    “Why not?” she said, knowing that the first thing she was going to do after this was to build the tiniest pen she could.
    He stared at her in obvious bafflement. “Just so you know, as your vet, I’m going to come right out and say that I don’t think you’ve made the right decision.”
    “Thanks for your opinion,” she snapped.
    He continued to stare at her. “All right, then. Suit yourself. You’re going to come to my house around ten, right?”
    “I don’t think so.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because.”
    “I see,” he said, sounding exactly like her mother.
    “Good.”
    “Is something bothering you?”
    “No.”
    “Have I done something to upset you?”
    Yes, the little voice answered. You and your damn hip muscles. “No.”
    “Then what’s the problem?” he asked.
    “There’s no problem.”
    “Then what’s up with the way you’re acting?”
    “I’m not acting any way.”
    The teeth-baring smile was gone, as was all the friendliness he’d shown earlier. “Yeah, you are. I drop a basket off to welcome you to the neighborhood, I save your dog and stay awake all night to make sure she’s okay, I invite you over to have some fun on my boat today—all this after you screamed at me for no reason, mind you—and now you’re treating me like I have the plague. Since you moved next door, I’ve tried to be nice, but every time I see you, you seem angry at me. I just want to know why.”
    “Why?” she parroted.
    “Yeah,” he said, his voice steady. “Why.”
    “Because,” she repeated, knowing she sounded like a sulky fifth-grader. She just couldn’t think of anything else to say.
    He studied her face closely. “Because why?”
    “It’s none of your business.”
    He let her answer settle into the silence.
    “Whatever,” he finally said. He turned on his heels, shaking his head as he walked toward the steps. He was already on the grass when Gabby took a step forward.
    “Wait!” she called out.
    Travis slowed, took another couple of steps, then came to a halt. He turned to face her. “Yeah?”
    “I’m sorry,” she offered.
    “Yeah?” he said again. “What are you sorry