CHAPTER FIVE
I ran to the water’s edge – and sure enough, I could see the little dog was being swept along with the flow. He was fighting to keep his head out of the water, doing a good job of swimming against the tide and gradually getting closer to the bank. But how long could he keep it up before exhaustion took over and the river swept him away from me?
Kicking off my shoes, I prepared to wade into the river.
But Jensen got there before me, leaping down the bank and wading into the river which was surprisingly deep. He’d thrown off his jacket and shoes, and as I watched – hardly daring to breathe – he rolled up his sleeves, ready to catch Barley as he floated past. My heart was in my mouth as he reached out to grab the little dog, and I gasped in dismay as he missed, the swift-flowing current snatching Barley away from him.
Jensen launched himself into the water then and swam after Barley, and to my relief, managed to catch him this time. And as my frenzied heart rate began slowing down, he waded across, holding Barley and helping him clamber up the bank towards me.
‘Well done,’ I gasped, as he followed, scaling the incline in two effortless steps. ‘But what about your interview?’ I gazed in horror at his trousers and shirt, which were dripping wet, and the patch of green slime on his shoulder. And now Barley was giving himself a thoroughly good shake, drenching both of us.
Jensen shrugged. ‘These things happen, I guess. I had to save him.’ Smiling, he bent to give the dog a pat. ‘I’m very glad I did.’
My heart swelled with affection at that. How many other people – on their way to an important interview – would put the rescue of a lost dog before their chance to land a job they really wanted?
Jensen’s relaxed smile was giving me butterfly sensations. I was feeling things I hadn’t felt in a long time and it all felt very sudden and surprising. Flustered, I turned my attention instead to Barley, who was looking up at me with those cute button eyes and shivering. Dropping onto my knees, I took off my pink cotton hoodie and started to rub him down with it, at which point he did another enormous shake of his scrawny little body, sending water droplets flying everywhere.
Squealing with amusement, I looked over at Jensen. He was on his phone, which luckily, must have been in the jacket he flung off when he plunged in to rescue Barley. Despite talking, presumably to the company he had the interview with, he still managed a grin and a thumbs up at me and Barley.
‘Was that the company? What did they say?’ I asked him when he’d finished his brief conversation.
His mouth twisted at one corner. ‘Not sure the bloke I spoke to believed my story about a dog rescue. But he said he’d pass on the message and maybe they’d be able to reschedule the interview.’
I breathed a sigh of relief. ‘That’s good. So all is not lost, hopefully.’
‘Hopefully not.’ He hunkered down on the grass and gave Barley’s fur a good old ruffle – much to the delight of the little dog, who instantly rolled over for a belly rub, making Jensen laugh. Now that he was wet, his fur clinging to him like a second skin, Barley seemed a lot smaller and more vulnerable, and I could see how thin he really was. I’d buy some dogfood as soon as I could and feed him up...
He looked happy enough, though, playing with Jensen – and I laughed along with them, noticing droplets of river water dripping from Jensen’s shirt over his tanned forearms as he rough-and-tumbled with the little dog. His shirt was plastered to his chest, clinging to a pair of lovely broad shoulders. And because the shirt was white and therefore see-through, I kept catching glimpses of his body beneath... the solid pectoral muscles and a hint of chest hair, darkened by the water.
‘You’d better get home for a shower and some warm clothes,’ I muttered awkwardly, trying to look everywhere but at Jensen’s chest area. ‘Otherwise, you might catch a cold. Plus you never know what’s actually floating in the rivers these days, do you? I mean, it’s utterly shocking some of the reports you hear. So I reckon it’s probably best to be on the safe side and get in that shower as soon as you get home... give yourself a good scrub, you know...’ I trailed off with an awkward shrug, painfully aware I was probably babbling complete nonsense.
Give yourself a good scrub?
Had I really just said that? How wincingly embarrassing.
I might just as well have added, ‘And if you need someone to rub your back down, I’m your girl!’
‘Yes, Mum.’ Jensen’s eyes twinkled up at me and I felt my blush deepen. ‘No, but you’re right. Apart from anything else, I must be reeking of river water.’ He sniffed his shirt, gave Barley one last pat and stood up.
He was tall, towering over my very average height, and under his amused gaze, I felt my knees lose all their strength.
‘Sorry,’ I mumbled. ‘I didn’t mean to be all... teachery . Telling you what to do and everything. It’s just that was such a heroic thing to do, rescuing Barley like that, and I feel pretty guilty that I’m completely dry while you’re... well, totally drenched.’
‘Teachery,’ he mused with a smile. ‘Good made-up word. I like chairdrobe myself.’
‘Where you drop your clothes because you’re too lazy to put them in the wardrobe?’
He nodded. ‘Not to be confused with floordrobe. Now, that is lazy.’
We looked at each other and laughed rather awkwardly, and I wondered if my feelings of flustered-ness (another made-up word) were catching.
Jensen cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair so that it no longer flopped wetly (but rather endearingly) over his forehead.
To fill the sudden pause in the previously easy flow of chat, I pointed at his arm, ‘You’ve got goosebumps.’
‘Have I? I don’t feel too cold, although a cup of hot coffee would be good.’
I nodded. ‘Whenever I’m feeling chilled, I make pudding. The old-fashioned kind.’
‘Really?’ He looked at me with definite interest. ‘The sort that sticks to your ribs? Like they used to serve in schools?’
‘Yes! Like syrup sponge and custard. Ginger pudding. Jam roly-poly. I like to think they boost your mood as well as warm you up.’
‘Wow, you’re my kind of girl. Bring back the old-fashioned puds, that’s what I say.’
‘Couldn’t agree more.’
He smiled, a faraway look on his face. ‘I remember watching my granny steaming her puddings on the hob when I was little. From a safe distance, of course. I loved those puddings. She used to serve them with a dollop of thick custard. Absolutely delicious. Golden syrup sponge used to be my all-time favourite. Until they invented sticky toffee pudding, of course.’ He grinned. ‘Straight to the top of the list and I’ve never looked back.’
‘Good choice,’ I murmured approvingly. ‘If I’ve had a bad day, I find sticky toffee pudding is guaranteed to perk me up and make me smile.’
A rustling sound made us look over to where Barley was currently snuffling in the bushes.
Jensen smiled. ‘He looks quite happy, doesn’t he?’
‘He does. His river adventure doesn’t seem to have affected him too much.’
‘It was worth getting soaked, just to be sure the little fella was going to make it out of the water. And look, my shirt’s starting to dry already in this heat.’ He pulled it away from his body to demonstrate and I felt more colour flood into my cheeks.
‘Yes, but your trousers aren’t,’ I pointed out gruffly. ‘You really need to get them off... I mean, obviously not right here, but when you... you know... get home...’ I tailed off, feeling mortified all over again.
You need a good scrub down. And those trousers definitely need to come off.
It seemed my subconscious mind had a whole repertoire of racy suggestions to put to a certain dog rescuer.
Luckily, Jensen had turned away by this point and was now giving his full attention to Barley. Was he being tactful and sparing my blushes? I groaned inwardly. What on earth was happening to me? I hadn’t been this attracted to a man since I saw Henry Cavill doing all his own stunts in Mission Impossible !
Just then, maybe sniffing out another dog, Barley decided he fancied scampering back along the path towards the main road. Jensen had taken a call on his mobile and had clearly been distracted.
‘Barley!’ I yelled, and started hobbling after him. We couldn’t lose him – not after all this palaver!
Jensen overtook me a minute later, his long legs covering the distance with ease, and thankfully, with Barley having stopped to examine an empty crisp packet on the path, we managed to catch up with him.
I whisked a banana out of my bag and dangled it in front of the little dog, and he gave it a good old sniff.
‘That was my mate, Marty, on the phone,’ said Jensen as I peeled the banana, watched by a spellbound Barley. ‘I told him about the situation with the dog and he’s offered to drive me home to get changed out of my wet clothes, and then come with me and the dog to the local animal rescue centre.’
‘Oh. That’s great.’
‘You don’t mind me taking . . . um, Barley . . . along there?’
‘No, not at all. In fact, that would be perfect. We need to know if he has an owner, and the rescue centre will know exactly what to do.’ I frowned. ‘You don’t mind?’
‘Not at all.’
‘I’m so sorry about your interview.’
He smiled. ‘It wasn’t your fault.’
‘So is your friend coming here to pick you both up?’
Jensen nodded. ‘He was parked on the high street, but he says he’ll drive along and park on the grass verge and wait for us.’ He nodded in the direction of the main road.
‘Right. Well, here you go, Barley. Have some sustenance for the continuation of your adventure!’ I broke off a piece of banana and it was wolfed down eagerly. ‘How much do you think I can give him?’ I looked at Jensen anxiously.
‘The whole thing, I think. The poor dog looks as if he hasn’t eaten properly in weeks.’ He dropped down and ran his hands over Barley’s little body. ‘You can feel his ribs.’
So I fed him the whole banana, bit by bit, as Jensen kept glancing up at the road, anticipating the arrival of his friend.
‘Do you... want to come with us?’ he asked. ‘He’s in a van but we could probably all squeeze in.’
I hesitated, wanting to say yes, but then I realised he was probably just offering to be polite as it had been me who’d found the dog in the first place.
‘No, it’s fine. It might be too cramped. As long as you really don’t mind doing all this?’
‘I don’t mind at all.’
I got up from crouching down to feed Barley, and Jensen helped, pulling me to my feet. His hand was warm and dry now, enclosing mine, and a funny quivery feeling skittered along my arm. We locked eyes, and my surprise at the contact seemed to be mirrored on Jensen’s face. Had he felt the same odd little tingle?
I couldn’t seem to drag my eyes away from his, and he seemed to be having the same problem. His eyes, with the little gold flecks in them, were truly mesmerising and I found myself drawing closer, bridging the gap between us... so close that I was breathing in his tantalising male scent–
A horn sounded, honking several times.
And then everything seemed to happen in a hurry.
‘That’s Marty,’ muttered Jensen. He looked around wildly. ‘Where’s the dog gone?’
‘Over there!’ I gasped, and hurried over to the bushes, waving the banana skin about.
Jensen scooped Barley up. ‘Right. Better go.’
‘Yes, you should. It’s lovely of your friend to do this. You’d better not keep him waiting.’
‘Okay.’
Still, he seemed reluctant to leave, hoisting Barley into a different position so that he was peering over Jensen’s shoulder.
The honk came again, jolting us to our senses.
‘Well, goodbye, Annalise. I... hope your grandmother gets her transplant.’ He started walking away.
‘Thank you,’ I called after them. ‘I hope you get another interview for that job.’
He turned and grinned at me. ‘Thanks. Bye-bye from Barley!’ He lifted the dog’s paw and waved it at me, in a gesture that was so unbearably cute, I couldn’t stop smiling.
I watched them sprint off together, Barley’s head moving up and down on Jensen’s shoulder. Then they disappeared from view.
Feeling suddenly rather shaky, I walked back to the bench and sank down on it, feeling more emotionally drained than ever now. My mind was in a complete whirl after everything that had happened. Would Barley be all right? I really hoped he had an owner who would claim him soon. He was such an adorable dog and so spirited, despite his recent adventures.
It had been amazing finding Barley. And equally lovely meeting Jensen, although I now realised I knew little about him – only that he lived in Sunnybrook in a flat without a garden, and he was supposed to be having a job interview with a marketing company in London that day. We hadn’t even swapped contact details.
I swallowed hard, wondering why this dismayed me so much.
And then it hit me.
With no way of contacting him, I might never see Jensen again...