Chapter 2
JAYDEN
Frank is being way too bold with his new friend.
I may have to intervene.
I mean, Frank’s not a jerk. He’s a good dude. He’s just very friendly. Not everyone takes it well, though. Especially the butt sniffing.
I start towards him. He took off as soon as I unclipped his leash and made a beeline toward another dog. He loves the dog park where he can run and be free.
As I get closer, I see the other dog, now sniffing Frank’s butt. Okay, there’s mutual interest. That’s good. They do a circular dance, noses to butts.
Whoa. That other dog looks exactly like Frank.
Then I notice the woman standing nearby, smiling at the dogs.
Holy mother of God in a raincoat.
I probably look like Frank does after laps around the park: panting, tongue hanging out.
She’s hotter than a jalapeno in hell.
I pull my tongue back into my mouth as I get closer to them, eyes locked on her honey-brown hair waving around her shoulders and shining in the late-day sun.
She’s not dressed in a sexy way; baggy jeans hang from her narrow waist, with a plain white shirt tucked into them. But she’s still hot as fuck.
“Is Frank bothering your dog?” I call.
She looks up at me and when that smile is bestowed on me, I feel like I’ve been checked hard into the boards. Brown eyes dance with amusement, but there’s no sign of recognition on her face. “No, it’s fine. They’re getting along. But look at them! They’re twins!”
“I noticed that.” I stop next to her. “Crazy.”
“We’ve never met another pug here.”
“Even the same colour.”
“Yeah.”
“Frank’s face has a little more black.”
“Yes.” She studies my dog.
Her dog puts his front paws down, butt in the air, and Frank responds the same. Then they take off, chasing each other in circles around us.
The woman laughs. “They’re so funny!”
“Yeah.” Jesus. I need to up my game here. Stop drooling. Start impressing. “What’s your dog’s name?”
“Betty. And yours is Frank.”
“Yeah.” I grin. “From Men in Black.”
“Oh right!” She nods.
“Why Betty?”
“It just suits her.” She lifts her shoulders.
I tear my gaze away from her to watch the two dogs play. “They like each other.”
“They do.” She lets out a light laugh and glances at me again.
We look at each other with unmistakable interest.
Don’t be a creep. Be cool.
I cross my arms and turn my attention back to the dogs again. “So how old is Betty?”
“She’s two.”
“Still a pup. Frank is four.” I pause. “Do you come here often?”
She laughs. “I come here more often than you do with good lines.”
I groan and slap my hand to my forehead. “That did sound like a line, didn’t it?”
“Wasn’t it?”
“No, I was really asking. Like, is this your favourite dog park?”
“Well, it’s the only park we know so far. I just moved to this neighbourhood a few weeks ago.”
“Ah, you live in the neighbourhood. So do I. We have so much in common.”
She arches an eyebrow.
“Not a line! Just an observation!”
Her lips twitch up into a smile. “Okay.”
Betty comes running up to us and flops down on the grass in front of her person. Frank follows behind her and sits in front of me, smiling, tongue lolling.
“You look happy, my dude. Did you have a good run?”
“They’re both exhausted.” Betty’s owner crouches down and runs her hand over her pup’s sturdy body. “But that’s good. Betty’s been putting on a little weight, so we’re trying to get more exercise.”
“She looks good,” I say. “Svelte.”
She laughs. “Okay.”
She’s very self-assured. Smart. I like it.
Another dog, some kind of mix about their size, runs up to us. Betty rolls onto her side like she’s dying but Frank jumps up to greet this new friend.
“I think Frank still has some energy. I’m gonna sit on that bench over there. Care to join me?”
“I’m not sure Betty can walk that far.”
“Ah, she’s faking it.”
“Hmm. You know her so well.” Her tone is dry. She bends over and lifts her dog into her arms. “I’ll carry you, but just this once.”
And hey, she follows me to the bench. We sit beneath a maple tree that’s brilliant red at the top although still green on the lower branches. Autumn is here. Which means hockey season.
This park is a small haven in Yaletown, surrounded by towering apartment buildings. The cries of children playing on the nearby play structure drift on the soft evening. I breathe in the fresh, resinous scent of a big Scots pine tree nearby.
Betty stands on her hind legs to lick her owner’s face. She laughs and dodges her tongue, but she does let her dog lick her chin. What a woman.
“I love you, too,” she says to her, petting her. “You’re such a good girl.”
“I heard that butt sniffing is the dog version of a handshake,” I say. “But apparently, it’s even more than that.”
She looks at me as if holding back a smile. “Oh yeah?” Up closer now, I notice her eyes are dark, rich, and deep.
I nod. “Dogs release pheromones through their anal glands, and they get a lot of valuable information that way.”
Why the fuck am I talking about anal glands to this absolute goddess?
“I’ve also heard that dogs can smell our feelings,” she says. “Because of our own pheromones.”
“I believe that. Frank knows when I’m really pissed off or frustrated.”
“I think Betty does, too.”
A ball comes flying through the air toward us. Instinctively, I shoot out a hand and catch it, right in front of my new friend’s face.
“Holy shit!” she gasps. “That nearly hit me.”
“Yeah.” I look around for the asshole who threw it.
“Good catch.” She shakes her head, looking a little rattled.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh yeah. Thanks to you.”
A kid comes running toward us. I was going to go off on whoever threw that, but it’s a kid, so… “This your ball?” I hold it up.
A dog gallops ahead of the kid and stops, eyeing his ball.
“Yeah. Sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you.”
“It’s okay, I got it, but be careful, my man.” I hand the ball over to the boy.
“Sorry.” The kid turns and throws the ball again for his dog.
I look around. Where is Frank? Oops. He’s over by the fence taking a dump. “Be right back,” I say to the woman.
“We have to go anyway,” she says, standing. “It was nice to meet both of you.”
“Oh.” My heart drops like a puck at faceoff. “Would you like to get a coffee? Or a drink?”
She hesitates and purses her lips.