Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Beckett
I’ve always struggled with social anxiety. The small talk, large groups of people, and paralyzing fear that the people around me are always judging me makes my mind race with all kinds of uncomfortable thoughts.
Are they staring at me?
Did I say something stupid?
Do I look okay?
Why did I say that?
Will they think differently of me after this?
After, in the safety of my home, I’ll replay every social interaction down to the smallest detail.
It’s why I rarely go out. When I do, it’s almost always out of obligation.
Once in a while, though, I force myself to step outside my comfort zone, like a test to see if I’ve been magically cured of my socially anxious ways.
That’s how I ended up here, in front of Hemlock’s animal shelter.
My natural inclination is to go to work and then back home. No dinners out. No bars. But living that way isn’t healthy, so I’ve come up with creative ways to get out of the house without then having to ruminate over my interactions.
One of my favorite solutions is to stop by the shelter and take an adoptable dog out for a day.
Overhead, the bright blue sky hangs with drifting fluffy clouds as the sun warms my body. It’s the perfect day to be outside.
I find a parking spot, and the low hum of my bike fades to silence as I twist the key.
Swinging my leg over the seat, I pull off my helmet and feel the cool spring breeze tousle my hair.
My eyes take in the well-kept animal shelter before me.
In the distance, I hear the chaos of what I assume are dozens of dogs playing in the outdoor area.
My heavy boots thump on the pavement as I stride to the entrance.
The moment I open the door, the three women at the front reception area stop their conversation and give me a slow perusal.
I watch as their eyes take me in, from my black leather boots to the dark sunglasses perched on my nose.
This isn’t awkward at all.
I give them a friendly smile. “Hi there. I called yesterday about the Doggy Daycation program? I’m Beckett Hart.”
One woman clears her throat. “Right! Hello. Erm—” Flustered, she shuffles through the various papers on the desk. “Ah. Here you are. We have you with a lab-corgi mix named Moose today. He’s a really sweet dog and could use some extra recognition around town.”
I give her a warm smile. I do this not only because I hope to adopt a dog one day, but because I enjoy raising awareness about the shelter and dogs that are available for adoption.
They usually wear brightly colored vests that say “Adopt me” that draw attention and earn them a few pets.
More than once, I’ve been told a dog was adopted by a person who saw it out and about like that.
“Can’t wait to meet him.”
As I’m signing the requisite forms, the distinct sound of nails clacking on linoleum floors catches my attention.
Then another volunteer appears with a stocky dog with a sleek black coat.
Moose, I assume. His ears instantly endear him to me.
One is flopped over, while the other one sticks straight up, like a TV antenna receiving a signal.
A chuckle bubbles out of me as I crouch and scratch the floppy ear. He’s equal parts handsome and goofy looking. “Hey, bud. Nice to meet ya.”
He replies by giving my face a big, slobbery lick.
“Wow,” the woman holding the leash comments. “He’s friendly, but it usually takes him a while to warm up to new people. He must really like you.”
My heart swells.
One day. One day I’ll get a dog like Moose. Barbara will just have to deal with it.
In Hemlock, most everything is within walking distance, so I leave my bike in the parking lot and guide Moose toward town. The sky above is blue and filled with big puffy clouds as Moose trots just ahead of me with a joyful pep in his step.
After several errands around town, I open up my phone so I can check the tasks off my to-do list. As we pause, Moose whimpers and pulls on his leash, making me lurch forward.
Damn. For a short, stocky guy, he’s got some muscle to him.
I widen my stance to steady myself and swipe my thumb across the screen, ticking off another—
A solid object strikes me in the chest, knocking the air from my lungs.
“Oof!”
I’m trying to breathe when another mass nearly takes me out at the knees.
With a wild mess of auburn hair in my face, I grasp the shoulders of the woman who’s just run into me, steadying her.
But despite my efforts, the second part of this party, a dog, I realize now, darts around us.
The move only inspires Moose to do the same, and quickly, the two leashes have been woven into a chaotic web entangling me and the stranger.
When I get my bearings, I jerk my head back and assess the person I’m unusually and probably inappropriately close to.
Along with the wavy auburn hair, I’m met with a heart-shaped face, sparkling chocolate brown eyes, and pouty pink lips.
Joey.
My chest tightens almost painfully. She’s an exquisitely beautiful woman.
Her gaze glimmers and her freckled nose scrunches as she peers up at me.
“You just can’t stay away from me, can you, Beckett?” Her rosy lips curve into an infectious smile.
I smile right back, the expression starting slow, then blooming across my face.
Though there are nearly one million words in the English language, I’ve suddenly forgotten them all. It’s as if every word has slipped through my fingers at rapid speed.
The dogs are still doing their dance, checking one another out, causing the leash to tighten around our legs, drawing us even closer. When Joey sways a bit, I slide my hands from her shoulders to the gentle curve of her waist.
Moose spins, and Joey wobbles again, her delicate fingers clutching my biceps for stability. She gives them a quick squeeze. Whether the move was intentional, I’ll probably never know. But her face flushes the most beautiful hue of pink once she peers up at me and realizes I’m watching her.
She ducks, looking at the tangled mess. “You know, I think I’ve seen this happen in a movie once or twice. Never thought it could happen in real life.” Her laugh is light, airy, and free. The kind that reminds me of a wind chime on a cool summer’s night.
“I’m very familiar with this particular kind of movie scene,” I mumble.
She startles a little. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
“I. . .uh. . .” I clear my throat. “I just said I was familiar with this kind of movie scene.”
She breaks into a beaming smile. “Oh yeah? Do you watch a lot of rom-coms?”
“Every Friday night with my mom.” The moment the words are out, I wince. That’s probably one of the most embarrassing things a grown man could say to a beautiful woman.
“You regret saying that, don’t you?”
Heat creeps up my neck. “Absolutely.”
She giggles, and I can’t help but join in, despite our current predicament.
Both dogs are now lying on the cool cement beside us, gnawing on a stick. Moose’s black coat shines in the sun. The dog beside him is a golden retriever.
“Since you’re the expert in these scenarios, how do the characters untangle themselves?” Joey questions with a hint of mischief in her eyes.
“I never said I was the expert in this particular scenario,” I say, nerves skittering through me. “But I may have rushed into an airport to prevent someone from leaving once or twice.”
“Oh.” Her face lights up. “Dramatic. I like that. Are you also familiar with theatrical wedding objections?”
“Just did one last weekend, actually. Groom wasn’t too happy,” I quip back.
She tilts her head back and bursts into laughter. Her long brown waves gently blow in the breeze, making my fingers ache to push back a loose strand. A surge of pride courses through me, along with a bit of shock, because I don’t think banter has ever come to me this easily.
As her laughter fades, I find myself studying her.
Our bodies remain closely entwined, with my fingers resting against the silky material at her waist. Her hands are still wrapped around my biceps, the heat of her fingers sinking into my bare skin.
Her firm yet tender grip anchors us on this sidewalk.
She traces my features, her brows furrowed thoughtfully, as though she’s trying to solve a puzzle. The deep brown of her irises is decorated with flecks of gold and amber, the depth warm, kind, and entrancing.
Her glossy lips part, like she’s going to speak, but one of the dogs lets out a boisterous bark, making us both jerk in surprise and snapping us out of the moment. A moment that felt fleeting and endless at the same time.
Joey looks away, biting the inside of her lip. “Uh. We should probably get untangled.”
“Oh. Right. Yes.” I sound like a grunting caveman. One minute I can speak effortlessly, and the next I’m reduced to monosyllabic words.
Carefully, we unravel the leashes that bind us together, our fingers fumbling awkwardly. We keep our heads down, realizing that we’ve garnered attention from passersby.
Moments like this are the kind I relive over and over in my head. The kind that keeps me from venturing out in public.
When we’re finally free, the dogs have moved to the grass, both watching us, tongues lolling out of their mouths. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were proud of the situation they put us in.
“Is, uh, that your dog?” I point at the golden retriever.
“Oh god no. She’s my parents’ dog, Vera.” She inhales sharply, eyes darting away, a sudden sadness radiating from her. “Was my parents’ dog. They passed away a little over a year ago, so my sister inherited her.”
My instinct is to step closer, to comfort her, but I retreat out of nervousness. “I’m sorry about your parents. I can’t imagine what that must feel like.”
As if sensing the shift in her energy, Moose and Vera cozy up to Joey.
Sniffling, she looks up at me. “Thank you,” she says, her voice soft but grateful. “It’s been a big adjustment, but my siblings and I are doing the best we can. Just taking it day by day, you know?”
I give her a soft smile and nod. Hoping I can offer her a bit of comfort, even though, deep down, I know it can’t erase the pain, I say, “It’s much easier to take it one day at a time than to conquer grief all at once.”
She mirrors my expression, her small smile sending warmth into this little bubble we’ve created here on the sidewalk. “Exactly.”
For a moment, a comfortable silence hangs between us. A cool breeze sweeps through, carrying distant laughter. When the laughter is joined by the sound of barking dogs from the nearby park, an idea hits me.
I say a silent prayer that I don’t make a fool of myself, then I clear my throat. “Hey,” I say, my voice quiet and a little unsure, “would you like to grab a coffee—”
A phone rings, then Joey is hastily digging through her bag.
“Oh my gosh. Give me one second.” A sympathetic look crosses her face as she pulls the device out and slides her thumb over the screen.
“Hello?” she says as she brings it to her ear.
“Oh no. That bad? Yikes. Yes, I’ll be right there.
” She shoves it back into her purse and peeks up at me.
“I’m so sorry. I have to get back to my sister. Hopefully I’ll see you around!”
With that, she takes off in an impressive sprint, practically dragging Vera behind her.
When she turns the corner, I crouch beside my date for the day and give the stocky, happy pup a scratch on the neck. “Let’s get you a pup cup and see if we can find a family for ya. How does that sound?”
Like he understands every word, he lets out a loud, happy bark.
With Moose trotting along next to me without a care in the world, my thoughts drift to Joey. If I see her again, I will ask her out.
Next time, I’m determined to be a little more confident and a little less hesitant.