5. Sadie
5
SADIE
“What’s so wrong with caring about my sister’s happiness?” I ask the pack as they lead me down the street. The walk home is a breeze since they’re all worn out.
No one answers, so I continue, “I might meet Mr. Right tomorrow. There’s still time. It could be love at first sight.”
Max yawns.
“Could I hire a date? There are services for that, right? Not for the…you know what part but?—”
Trigger, the shaggy sheepdog, woofs, startling me out of my thoughts. I’m in front of my house and Ian is standing in his driveway, washing his giant black SUV. And watching me.
Please tell me he didn’t hear my out-loud ramblings. Again.
“Big crew,” he says with a smile and wave of the hand holding the soapy sponge. After weeks of being a complete recluse, he’s now an average suburban single dad taking care of household chores.
Molly Burton and Abbie Jokerst peer out of Molly’s front window across the street. The two empty nesters and best friends probably hope he’ll take off his shirt.
Not the worst thing that could happen.
“It’s going to rain.” I point to the sky, which is quickly filling with clouds headed our direction from the west. How does my ability to make casual conversation vanish so suddenly in this man’s presence?
Guys with giant muscles aren’t my type. Bradley and I wore the same size jeans back in high school. I make a mental note never to ask my sister if her waist size matches his.
Ian’s smile dims. “I’ll pull it into the garage. Thanks for the tip.”
“We might get hail,” I blurt like an armchair meteorologist. “When a storm blows in so quickly from the west, that can happen. It’s a thing on the Front Range.” I clasp a hand over my mouth to keep from blabbering any more.
Ian slowly places the sponge into the bucket of soapy water like he’s worried that quick movements might agitate me further. “Appreciate the warning and weather insight.”
“Sure,” I mumble. Would anyone at my sister’s wedding even believe I could get a date, other than if I hired one?
The dogs lose interest in him when I tug on the leashes to communicate we aren’t moving closer for a greeting, and turn toward my house.
“Is that a deer leg in your bucket?”
“Yep,” I call over my shoulder, pretending it’s completely normal. “For my collection.”
Okay, now I’ve crossed a boundary into totally weird.
Maybe I subconsciously want Ian Barlowe to go back to hiding out. Despite my usual indifference to broad-shouldered men, the things he does to my lady parts are no joke.
I hear him laugh like he finds me amusing. It makes my stomach zip and twirl in a lustful little dance. Oh, no. Are those my ovaries clenching? Sweet baby Jesus, say it isn’t so. I can’t be lusting after a man so out of reach we’re barely breathing the same air.
Eyes on the prize, Sadie. I need a wedding date and a willing vict—partner for my first time between the sheets. Ian Barlowe isn’t a candidate for either.
I toss the poop bags in the trash can next to the garage but leave the backpack on the front porch to deal with the bone later. Once inside, I release the dogs and press myself against the door, willing my knees not to tremble.
Ian will be swooped up by some thirsty single mom or cute twenty-something in town. Maybe he already has a girlfriend—probably a Monika Graham lookalike.
I’m the eccentric dog lady next door.
Speaking of eccentricity, I check my watch. Penelope texted that she’d pick up Princess at three for the dog’s weekly appointment at the groomer. But when I turn to greet the pup in her crate, it’s empty, the door shut and locked like it’s been that way all along.
I’ve seen a lot in my decade as a dog trainer, but an animal that can teleport is new even for me.
A giant boom sounds from outside, and Trigger gives a little whimper of protest. I need to put him in his thunder shirt before the storm starts. But first, I need to find the disappearing dog.
My heart races as I open the crate like that will make her reappear. Only this isn’t some two-bit magic trick.
“Princess?” I call, and two of the dogs amble toward me. Neither of them is the missing animal.
Then I notice the curtains ripple and realize the patio door is open.
I quickly crate the other dogs except Max, who’s already snoring away on his dog bed in the kitchen. After a quick scan of the yard and a rushed search of the house, I step out back as another crack of thunder reverberates. My heart pounds just as loudly.
Calling the dog on repeat, I scan the yard and then glance toward the space under the fence where she crawled through the first time. I secured the gap with netting, which is holding fast. But still…
I hurry through the gate at the side yard just as Penelope’s car stops at the curb.
No, no, no.
Where is that puppy?
Ian’s garage door is open, and he steps out, his brows furrowed. “Everything okay?”
“Princess is gone. I don’t know what happened, but…” I hitch my chin toward the woman with the high ponytail and pink velour tracksuit moving toward us. “I’m in big trouble.”
“I’ll check my yard,” he offers without missing a beat.
“Where’s my sweetie baby?” Penelope calls in her trilling voice. “I want to get her to the groomer before the rain starts.”
Based on the scent of rain and the wind picking up, the storm is nearly upon us.
“Hey, Penelope.” I clench my hands into fists as I move toward her. “A strange thing happened today.”
“Was that Ian Barlowe?” she asks in a stage whisper, nodding toward the open gate he’s just walked through. “I heard he’s Skylark’s newest resident but had no idea he lives next door to you.”
“Yep.” I offer a strained smile. “I can introduce you.”
“Yes, please, mama,” she says with a wink, then shakes her head. “But not today. I want to look my best to meet him, so I need to grab Princess and take off before he returns. First impressions are important.”
And second and third. I inwardly cringe, imagining what my hot-commodity neighbor thinks of me.
“About Princess…”
Penelope’s gaze sharpens. “What about her? I'm sorry I haven’t been following up on the obedience training homework but?—”
“She’s gone.”
“Gone where?”
I lick my dry lips. “I’m not sure yet.”
Penelope’s gaze flicks over my shoulder for a second, and I turn, hoping to see Ian holding the dog. Instead, those strong arms are empty. He offers an apologetic shake of his head.
Crapola. “I’m going to find her, Penelope,” I promise.
Penelope makes a sound somewhere between a shriek and a sob as she lunges for me. “You lost my baby.”
I stumble back into a wall of…well, Ian. Hard and warm, his calloused hands grip my upper arms. It’s like being held steady by a mountain. I catch the faint whiff of laundry detergent and male spice, and resist the urge to turn my head so I can breathe it in. Do not sniff the man, I tell myself.
“This isn’t Sadie’s fault,” he explains to my infuriated client.
It’s not? It feels like my fault.
His tone is calm and commanding, and for a moment, Penelope blinks up at him with her mouth forming a perfect “O”.
“Sadie lost my precious pup.” She glares at me. “Did you put out an Amber Alert?”
“That’s for missing children,” Ian clarifies.
“She’s my baby ,” Penelope cries, tears welling in her kohl-rimmed eyes. “We need to find her.”
She points a finger at me. “And there better not be one hair on her perfect head harmed. I trusted you. You, Sadie Hart, are the worst. I’m going to make sure everyone in town knows they can’t rely on you with their dogs.”
A raindrop lands on my heated cheek, a harbinger of what’s coming. We’re going to be soaked in minutes.
Ian doesn’t release me.
“I’ll find her,” I shout like Penelope can’t hear me over the imminent storm.
Or maybe it’s the throbbing in my head. Ten years, and I’ve never had a mishap with an animal. Scratches, accidents, even a random bite a few times. But I’ve never lost an animal in my care.
“I’m going to post on my socials and call the humane society,” Penelope yells back.
“We’ll find your little dog,” Ian promises.
Penelope draws a breath and nods like she believes him.
I do, too.
I want to, anyway. His hands around my arms give me comfort. His body is a wall of certainty, relaying a confidence I don’t feel. Is this what it would feel like to not be alone? Is this what my sister has with Bradley?
Is it what I could have had if things had gone a different way?
There’s a strange three-second lull in the swirling wind, and in that preternatural silence, I hear the most remarkable sound.
Princess’s plaintive bark.
I look up to see Riva quickly backing away from her upstairs window, the puppy cradled in her arms.
Ian mutters a curse and then takes a step away from me. I shouldn’t miss his touch, but I do, even as I realize what this means. His daughter stole the dog.
“My baby.” Penelope lets out a relieved breath and takes a step toward his house.
“Oh, right. Sorry.” I place a hand on Penelope’s arm to halt her movement. “I forgot I asked Ian’s daughter to watch her while I hiked with the other dogs. The barometric pressure is doing funny things to my brain.”
I’m not going to give Monika Graham any competition in the acting department. Still, I manage to not sound as angry and confused as I feel.
Ian growls behind me, his feelings on the matter crystal clear.
“She was never lost?” Penelope demands, her tone uncertain. She wants to believe me. I want her to believe me.
“I’ll get your dog,” Ian says, the gravity in his voice making it seem like he’s heading out on a covert ops mission instead of into his house. He levels Penelope with a steely stare. “This isn’t Sadie’s fault.”
My breath hitches when his ice-blue gaze meets mine, and then he turns and stalks across the front lawn.
“I’m so sorry I worried you.” I squeeze Penelope’s hand. “I would never let anything happen to your baby.”
She’s still frowning as she glances up at the sky. The storm remains contained other than the wind and a few sporadic raindrops. “I’m getting wet, and Princess will miss her appointment at the groomer.”
“I’m sorry.” I don’t bother to ask if she’s going to reconsider trashing me around town since I didn’t, in fact, lose her dog. That question can wait. But it doesn’t stop panic from clawing at my gut.
My business relies on my reputation. As much as I want to believe many long-time clients will remain loyal, I’ve lost more than a few to a new national-chain training center that opened on the other side of town. Dogapalooza, if you can believe that name.
Penelope flicks a raindrop off her forehead. “I guess it’s okay since Ian Barlowe’s daughter is the one who has her. Although if I’d known, I would have curled my hair before meeting him. But if she likes Princess, that might give me an in with her dad, right?”
“Sure,” I agree. “And you look great, Pen.”
As attractive as someone can be in a fuzzy tracksuit the color of Pepto Bismol.
“You look like you need a shower.” She sniffs.
Of course I do. If only a shower could fix my life.
As soon as Ian reappears on the front porch, Penelope hurries forward, cooing at Princess and thanking my neighbor for saving the day.
The rain starts in earnest as she rushes past me toward her car. “I’ll be in touch,” she calls, and there’s a promise of retribution in her tone that adds to my headache, barometric pressure be damned.
I press my lips together and hold up a hand before Ian can take a step off his porch.
“It’s fine,” I lie. “Totally fine.” Thunder booms again like it’s offering a retort, but I turn and head to my house.
Stick a fork in me today. I’m officially done.