Chapter 3 Gracie #2
Just then, a couple came in with a little boy and a golden retriever puppy whose tail thumped the desk like a drumroll as the three dogs circled and barked.
Through it all, Renee managed to keep order, get names, and talk over the noise.
“Let’s go, kids,” she finally called out. “Camp starts in five minutes!”
Gracie gave Benny a hug and pressed her lips against his hair. “Be nice and make friends,” she whispered.
“Do you think that dog is smarter than Sir Isaac Newton?”
“I don’t know, but his owner seems pretty bright.”
His eyes shuttered. “I didn’t think my dog would have real competition.”
“Benny.” She crouched down, putting her hands on his shoulders. “She can be your friend.”
He drew back, as aghast as a ten-year-old knew how to look. “She’s right. Border collies are smart. She could win.”
She exhaled and hugged him again. “There’s nothing to win. It’s not a competition.”
“Yes, it is.” He pointed to the bottom of the week’s schedule to the words Doggie Talent Show – Best Trick Wins Treats for a Year!
Oh, boy. “Just have fun, Benny.”
“Leash your dogs and follow me!” Renee stood in the doorway and waved the kids into a hall. “Parents, your work is done here. Say your goodbyes. Next time you see them, their dogs will come when called by name.”
Gracie watched Benny and Sir Isaac head down the hall, keeping their distance from the adorable competition.
“Don’t worry, she doesn’t bite,” Olivia’s father said from just behind her. “Neither does the dog named Kat.”
Laughing, Gracie turned and looked up at him. “I was hoping he’d make a friend as much as train the dog.”
“He’ll be fine. Kids and dogs. What could go wrong?”
She laughed again, then glanced toward the now empty hallway.
“Come on,” he said, surprising her by gesturing toward the door. “You can see the training room from the windows that face the parking lot. I already scoped it out so I could surreptitiously keep an eye on her.”
“Your daughter doesn’t seem to need supervision,” Gracie said, walking with him, aware of the sheer size of the man, who had to be six-two, with well-defined muscles under a thermal shirt and down vest.
“That doesn’t stop me from hovering,” he said, leading the way toward a bank of windows at the side of the building. “But I’m a single father, so I get to hover. I’m Marshall Hampton, by the way.”
“Gracie McBride.” He was a single dad? She should tell him she was in the parenting game alone, too. She should—
“Oh, look,” he said, jutting his chin toward the windows to take in the chaos in the training room.
A dozen—maybe fourteen—kids clustered near the center, dogs tangling leashes and brushing noses.
Staffers in matching blue shirts moved among them, cheerful and competent.
A teenage volunteer collected coats and hung them.
The floor was padded, a soft gray fleck that would be easy on paws and knees alike.
Gracie found Benny immediately. He was standing apart from the crowd, holding his dog in his arms, scanning the room—or sizing up the competition.
Olivia, on the other hand, was right in the middle, firing orders to Kat, who was in a bark-off with the golden retriever and completely ignoring her owner.
“I hope she can handle the chaos,” Marshall said, his gaze on his daughter with a soft look of love. “You want your son to socialize and I want my daughter to learn that she can’t control life with brains and determination. Sometimes, life controls you.”
There was the tiniest note of sadness in his voice that made Gracie tear her attention from the training center to look up and study his profile.
He had strong features, rich dark skin, and long eyelashes. He turned and met her gaze, making her blink and look away so it didn’t seem like she was staring at him.
“I hope they make friends with each other,” he said. “Any kid who names his dog Sir Isaac Newton is definitely her kind of people.”
“I hope they do, too.”
After a moment, they stepped away and started walking back to the parking lot. There was a beat of awkward silence that Gracie so wanted to fill, but she didn’t know what to say.
Poor Benny. He came by his struggles naturally.
“Do you have the week free before the New Year?” Marshall asked, obviously more skilled at small talk than she was.
“Oh, no,” she said, grateful for something easy to talk about. “It’s a busy season in my business.”
“What do you…” His voice trailed off as she stopped next to her van. “Sugarfall? The bakery? Do you work there?”
“Actually, I own it.”
His brows shot up and he slowed his step, looking at her with…respect? Awe? Worry? She wasn’t sure.
“Have you been in?” she asked. “I’m in the back so much…”
“I’ve stopped by in moments of weakness,” he admitted, sliding her a look. “Those cream puffs are deadly, so I usually just walk across the street.”
Gracie felt her cheeks warm. “Deadly? I’m not sure I’d go that far, but you be careful on the other side of that street. I saw there’s some construction starting in January. Something going up in the neighborhood.”
“Yes,” he said. “I’ve heard—” He pulled out a cell phone and glanced at it. “Sorry, better take this. And I’m over there.” With his other hand, he pointed a key fob that flashed the lights on a muscular black truck. “I’m sure I’ll see you around this week, Gracie.”
She gave a smile and unlocked the van. As she climbed in, she pulled on the seatbelt and sighed, unsettled for reasons she didn’t even understand.
Would Benny make friends? Would the bright little girl with the superstar dog intimidate or upset him? And why was Gracie so nervous, especially when it came to talking to a man?
Well, she’d always been timid, she reminded herself. She’d outgrown abject shyness in her late teens, but she’d never been bold or talkative or flirtatious. And as far as men?
The one and only time she’d fallen in love, it had been a colossal mistake.
Sam Sutton had been her “moment of weakness,” to borrow the phrase that Marshall had just used, and twenty-four-year-old Gracie was sure she’d met “the one.”
But when she accidentally got pregnant, Sam showed his true colors. He did not want a wife, or child, or house with a picket fence in Park City. He’d freaked out, bolted to Vegas with some friends, and soon announced that he got a job in a casino and was staying there.
That was more than ten years ago.
Sam had been in Benny’s life from a distance. He sent the occasional Venmo, visited about once every year or two, made exactly one little league game, two Christmases, and zero school events.
Benny called him “Dad” but never knew him enough to really miss him. Her own father could have stepped into the role of a “man” in Benny’s life, but George McBride had passed away when Benny was in kindergarten. Thankfully, there was Red—Benny’s best pal on Earth.
And, oddly enough, that relationship worked very well. Maybe too well, since her grandfather managed to fill the hole in Benny’s life.
She glanced into the rearview mirror just as Marshall’s truck passed, giving her a glimpse of the handsome man at the wheel. He glanced her way and gave a smile and raised his hand.
What would it do to Benny if she were to…date? Ugh, she could barely bring herself to think the word.
But would it be good if she brought a man into his life? Maybe…a man who already had a child, knew how to love, and understood the challenges of being a single parent? A man like…
She peered in the direction the truck had gone, cringing at the memory of warning him to be careful around the construction like he was Benny’s age. That was dumb, and he took off a second later.
She had no idea how to flirt or send signals to a man. Quiet by nature, she simply wasn’t…sparkling.
But her baking was. So, maybe she could start with…a deadly cream puff.
Smiling at that, she headed to the bakery to make a few.