Candy Hearts, Vol. 2

Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

LEX

I parked in front of a house in one of the nicer, older Dahlia Springs neighborhoods. No cookie-cutter homes with narrow spaces between them to be found. Each home was unique, from ranch styles to Craftsman to midcentury modern. Each had drool-worthy landscaped yards with mature landscaping.

It was the kind of place I’d love to live. Someday. Assuming I ever earned enough to pay a mortgage on top of my student loans. Most days, it seemed like a pipe dream, given I was currently crashing in a friend’s guestroom for barely above the cost of utilities.

Before getting out of my car, I double-checked the address to make sure I had the right place for my new dog-walking client. I was dubious about how it would go. They’d given a lot of instructions for a twenty-minute walk and asked for a consultation call that lasted nearly thirty minutes. In neighborhoods like this, it was a toss-up of whether they’d even tip. Of all my gigs, dog walking was one of my favorite ways to earn money, but it didn’t pay great.

I remembered the wrinkled fifty tucked in a special spot in my wallet from last weekend. Of all the fake grooms in the world, Garrison had landed on my stage. I always enjoyed dancing— riling up the crowd, showing people a good time, the tips. But last Saturday was the most fun I’d had there maybe ever.

As I walked to the side door I’d been directed to enter through, I thought about Garrison. A silly part of me had hoped to see him at the sandwich shop again this week. I owed him a sandwich with no pickles, after all, but I hadn’t seen him. I’d probably imagined the sparks between us. That was where I usually got myself into trouble—making a big deal of something one-sided. That was why I never slept with guys at the club. I needed to protect my heart, and it was best not to get my hopes up.

The poor man. I’d embarrassed him at work and ruined his lunch. At least I hadn’t accidentally injured him with a rogue knee to the groin while trying to grind on him.

I frowned as I pulled up the message containing lengthy directions from my new client. After scrolling— and scrolling —through the paragraphs, I found the lock code. I was inside a minute later, and the eager Belgian Malinois slid on the hardwood while rounding a corner, racing toward me. He jumped on me with enough force to make me stumble back.

I laughed and dropped to the floor as the dog tried to reach my face and give me kisses. “Hi, Scout. I’m Lex. Aren’t you a sweet thing?” He tried to climb onto my lap. “You’ve never met a stranger, have you?” I scratched behind his ears and dodged his tongue. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

Scout raced to the door and nudged the leash hanging from the wall with his snout. Most of his strong, muscled body was a deep beige, but his face, tail, and pointed ears were dark brown. He sort of resembled a German Shepard.

I hooked the clasp to his collar and led him outside. I was supposed to give him a brisk walk through the neighborhood to make sure he got his exercise in since his parents would be home late.

Lucky for me and Scout’s paws, it was a dry afternoon. Overcast but bright. The cool temperature and occasional wind gusts made me glad I’d picked a warmer jacket, but the exercise would warm me soon enough.

Scout pulled me through the streets. He wanted to sniff everything , but I didn’t mind. I’d read somewhere that outside smells were a dog’s equivalent to social media—their excitement for the day.

He trotted happily between smells and eagerly greeted any dog we passed. Fortunately, he wasn’t aggressive with dogs. Though squirrels were another matter. I kept a tight hold on the leash because Scout was strong.

As we turned a corner, I spotted an adorable home across the street. Its features reminded me of a cottage in the English countryside. It had a pale-olive exterior with triangular eaves over the second-story windows and front door. There wasn’t much growing in February, but I could imagine the front yard was a riot of color in spring and summer with wildflowers and blooming roses. What did the backyard look like?

That was the kind of house I’d buy in an instant if I could afford it.

A tabby cat darted out from a bush in front of us and ran across the street. Scout tracked the movement as his body tensed. I gripped the leash tightly as Scout rocked back on his hind legs. My brain had enough time to process bracing myself before he lurched forward. Scout was even more powerful than I’d anticipated. He tugged the lead, and I stumbled forward into the street.

“Scout, sit! ”

My command made no difference. Scout’s body quivered as he tried to chase the cat across the street. I held tight, but the leash had other plans because as Scout tugged again, the clasp broke. He took off across the street, leaving his leash limp in my hand.

My heart lurched as I scanned both sides of the street to make sure there were no cars coming. Thankfully, the street was clear. In the seconds it took to check the street, I looked back toward the fairy-tale cottage and couldn’t find Scout. I ran across the street and scoured the front yard but found no signs of him around the bushes or trees.

“Scout? Come on, buddy. Don’t do this to me.” I felt awkward traipsing through a stranger’s yard, but I needed to find Scout. I didn’t want to have to report to his owner that I’d lost her dog.

There were a series of barks close by, but I couldn’t spot him. “Scout? Come!”

Still nothing.

My gut twisted as I moved deeper into the yard. Maybe he’d gone to the backyard? I walked down the narrow driveway to the side of the house toward a wooden gate that was cracked open. Wide enough for an eager dog.

Shit.

His barks sounded close. I didn’t hear the cat yowling, thankfully. Hopefully, it got away.

I sent a silent apology for trespassing to the homeowner. There was no car in the driveway, so hopefully, they’d never know we’d been there.

“Scout?” I approached the gate and peeked in the backyard. It was like the English country garden of my dreams, with neatly trimmed hedges and tidy beds waiting for spring flowers. It had to be a dream in the warmer months.

Scout barked again. He sounded so close . Had he gone into a different yard next door? I moved into the yard to scan it before checking another garden.

The tone of Scout’s barks changed from hunting to playful.

“Scout? Where are you?” His eager bark sounded like he should be in the yard with me.

I turned in a circle at his series of short barks. Nothing in the bushes or trees. At another bark, I looked up. And there was Scout. On the fucking roof.

“Scout! How’d you get up there?” My stomach heaved. How the hell would I get him down? Could dogs jump that high? Absolutely no way.

I paced in the yard and tried to figure out how to fix this mess that didn’t involve contacting Scout’s owners and having a complaint filed against me in the app. It wasn’t my fault the leash snapped and Scout escaped, but I was still responsible.

“Hello?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the disembodied, odd-sounding voice.

“Hello?” I spun in another circle.

“Why are you in my yard?” The masculine voice was sharp.

“Where are you?” I searched for the speaker.

“Camera. Above the kitchen window.”

I scanned the back of the house and spotted it on the side of the house opposite the gate. A bottle of soap and a scrub brush stood upright in the window. I moved closer to it.

“Hey. I’m walking a client’s dog, and when he started chasing a cat, the leash broke. He chased the cat into your backyard.” I gulped. “And, uh, somehow he, um, got on your roof?”

“My roof ?”

“Yeah.” I took my ball cap off and ran my hand through my hair. I looked at the camera again. “I’m so sorry. Do you have a ladder or something? I’m seriously sorry.”

I was met with silence. Maybe the camera glitched?

“I’m on my way home.”

His voice had lost its sharpness and almost sounded like he was laughing? Or maybe I was mishearing things through the garbled camera speaker.

“Can you hang tight until then? About twenty minutes?”

“Yup. I’m stuck here until this dog decides to come down.” I blew out a breath as my shoulders relaxed at the prospect of a knight in shining armor heading my way. “Thanks for letting me loiter.”

“There’s a bench you can hang out on. See you soon.”

Why did his voice sound familiar?

I found the garden bench in question and settled in, imagining what it would be like to enjoy morning coffee from the spot. Scout paced from one side to the other on the roof, like the neighborhood watch.

“Having fun up there, bud?”

Scout turned and plopped down, facing me. His tongue lolled from his mouth in a doggy smile. Lucky for him, he was cute.