Chapter Four
Jamie
The park was emptier than usual for a Friday afternoon. A few kids on the swings, one mom pushing a stroller, and me standing near the bench where Landon and I always did the exchange, checking my phone for what felt like the hundredth time.
Holden had texted twenty minutes ago. Running late. Be there soon.
The black Range Rover pulled into the lot at exactly three o'clock. Landon was nothing if not punctual.
He got out first, all Canada Goose and perfect hair, every strand in place like he'd just left a salon.
Then he opened the back to let the girls jump down.
They spotted me before their paws hit the pavement, Marceline already straining toward me, Bubblegum close behind.
My chest cracked open the way it always did when I saw them after a week apart, the ache of missing them finally releasing.
“Hey, babies.” I dropped to my knees on the frozen ground, not caring about my jeans, and let them crash into me.
Marceline's whole body wiggled with the force of her excitement, her red puffer vest bunching up around her neck. Landon had called those vests ridiculous when I bought them, but he’d put them on the girls anyway.
Bubblegum pressed her nose against my neck and made that little huffing sound that meant she'd missed me, her smaller body warm against my chest. “I know. I missed you too.”
“They had a good week.” Landon walked over, leashes dangling from his hand.
He looked good, rested, almost relaxed. Cashmere scarf, leather gloves, the kind of put-together that used to make me feel like I'd won something.
Now it just looked like effort. “Bubblegum finally figured out the dog door.”
“About time.” I rubbed her head and stood, brushing dirt off my knees, and then took the leashes.
“So.” Landon crossed his arms, that familiar half-smile playing at his mouth. “I have some news. I'm going out of town next weekend for a few days.” His smile widened, just enough to show teeth. “Blake and I are doing Cabo. Leaving February twelfth, back on the seventeenth.”
Blake. The new boyfriend. I'd heard the name exactly twice, once from Brandy, who'd heard it from someone at the resort, and once from Landon during a dog exchange when he'd dropped it like a grenade and waited for the shrapnel.
Sunny Mexico for Valentine’s Day while I froze my ass off in Colorado. “That's nice.” My voice came out flatter than I'd intended. Not jealous. I didn't feel jealous. I felt something else I couldn't quite name. Relief, maybe. “So I'll have the girls through the seventeenth?”
“If that works for you.” He was watching my face, waiting for something. The jealousy, maybe. The visible evidence that his new relationship hurt me.
But all I was thinking about was having extra time with my baby girls. “No problem at all.” I kept my voice light. “Enjoy your trip.”
Movement at the edge of the park caught my eye.
Holden, walking toward us with that particular stride of his, long legs covering ground fast, hands shoved in his jacket pockets.
His hair was slightly windblown and his cheeks were ruddy from the cold.
He'd texted that he was running late, but here he was. During the busiest season of his year.
Marceline noticed him before I could say anything. Her whole body went rigid with excitement, and then she was straining at the leash, pulling toward Holden with the intensity she usually reserved for squirrels.
“Hey.” Holden stopped in front of me, and before I could respond, he bent down and kissed me. Quick, casual, like it was something we did every day. His hand cupped the back of my neck for just a moment, warm against the cold, his callused fingers rough against my skin.
“Hey yourself.” My voice came out steadier than I felt.
He dropped into a crouch to greet the dogs, and Marceline lost her mind, wiggling, licking his hands, pressing against his legs like she'd been in on our scheme from the start.
Bubblegum wasn't much better, her whole back end wagging as she nudged her way into his attention, waiting her turn with that patient dignity she always had.
“Yeah, I missed you too,” Holden murmured, scratching behind Marceline's ears. “Both of you.”
I glanced at Landon.
His face had gone carefully blank, but I knew that look. The tightness around his jaw, the way his shoulders had squared. He was watching his dog lose her mind over Holden Hutchinson.
“They really like him,” I said. Couldn't help it.
“I can see that.” Landon's voice was flat.
Holden straightened and looked at Landon with an expression I couldn’t quite read, not hostile, but not warm either.
Just steady. The contrast between them was almost absurd: Landon polished and expensive, every detail calculated; Holden in his work flannel and jeans, looking like he'd just stepped away from his workbench.
“Hutchinson,” Landon said. A greeting that wasn't quite friendly.
“Hawkins.”
The silence stretched for a beat too long.
Landon nodded at me. “I'll call you when we get back.”
“Safe travels.”
He walked to his car without looking back. The engine roared to life, louder than necessary, and then he was pulling out of the lot, gravel crunching under his tires. The Range Rover turned onto Main Street and disappeared.
“He's gone,” I said. “Thanks again for showing up. Sorry I made you come all this way for just a minute or two.”
Holden nodded. “ Just part of the arrangement, right?”
The arrangement. Yeah.
“So.” He looked down at the dogs, who were still pressed against his legs like he might disappear if they let go. “He's going somewhere?”
“Yeah.” I nodded, trying to keep the leashes untangled. “Going to Cabo with his new boyfriend for Valentine's Day.”
Holden whistled low. “So you have them until then?”
“Through February seventeenth. I get an extra week with my girls.” I looked up at him, hopeful. “Is it okay if I bring them to the shop? They'll be out of the way, I promise.”
Holden's mouth curved, an actual smile, rare enough that I felt it like a small victory. “Yeah, that's cool. They're probably better company than most of my customers.”
I laughed. “You're terrible.”
“It's accurate.”
We started walking down the path, the dogs leading us toward the trail at the edge of the park.
The path wound up into the foothills, mostly empty this time of year.
Our footsteps crunched on frozen ground, breath pluming white in the cold air.
The January light was already going gold, slanting through the bare aspens and catching on patches of old snow.
“I think he expected me to be jealous,” I said. “About the boyfriend, the trip.”
“Were you?”
I thought about it. The honest answer. “No. I was mostly thinking about how much extra time I'd have with the girls.”
Holden was quiet. The trail curved around a bend, and the town fell away behind us, just mountains and sky and the sound of our boots on packed dirt. The cold bit at my cheeks, my ears, found every gap in my layers. I'd worn the wrong jacket again.
“When did you stop?” he asked.
“Stop what?”
“Caring what he thought.”
I didn't have an answer for that. Or maybe I did, but it was too new to say out loud. Something about the shop. About Prospect Ridge. About a grumpy florist who showed up at dog exchanges even when he was busy as hell.
“I'm working on it,” I said.
Holden's arm came around my shoulders.
He didn't say anything. Just pulled me against his side, his arm heavy and solid across my back.
The weight of it registered first. Not oppressive, just present. Then the warmth, bleeding through my jacket, cutting through the January chill. His hand curled around my upper arm, fingers spanning more of it than seemed possible, holding me against him like he was worried I might drift away.
I fit there.
That was the part that caught me off guard.
The way my body settled into the curve of his side without having to adjust, without having to make myself smaller or taller or different.
My head tucked under his chin, and the height difference that should have been awkward just wasn't. I leaned into him, tall and strong and warmth, closing my eyes as I caught the scent of his aftershave.
His arm spanned my shoulders completely. Not claiming. Not performing. Just holding me like he wanted to hold me.
Landon used to put his arm around me too. In public, at parties, when he wanted people to see us together. But it always felt like a claim. Like he was showing me off, or marking territory, or performing the role of boyfriend for an audience.
This didn't feel like that.
This felt like being held by someone who wanted me close, and this was how he knew to say it. No audience. No performance. Just his arm around me and the mountains going pink in the distance and the dogs trotting ahead like nothing unusual was happening.
I fit under his chin like I was made to be there. And for the first time in longer than I could remember, being small next to someone didn't make me feel small. It made me feel safe. Covered. Like Holden's size wasn't something that diminished me. It was something that made space for me.
The realization didn't hit all at once. It built, slow and undeniable, with every step we took together. The way my body kept leaning into his warmth. The way my breathing had synced with his without me noticing. The way I kept wanting to turn my face into his chest and just stay there.
Oh, I thought. And then, with growing certainty: Oh, fuck.
This wasn't just attraction. This wasn't just the fake dating arrangement blurring at the edges.
This was something that had been building since the first day, since he'd walked into the park and kissed me in front of Landon without a second thought.
This was the kind of feeling that could wreck me if I let it, the kind that made me want to stay, want to build something, want to believe that this quiet, grumpy, gentle man might actually want me back.