30
“What are you doing here, Joel?” Owen asks.
“I got a call saying someone broke into my studio.”
Owen raises his eyebrows. “Your studio? I thought you worked out of that place on Cherry Blossom?”
“I did, but I needed a bigger space,” Joel explains. “The lease only went through a week ago. I haven’t moved my equipment over yet.” He turns to me, frowning. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, that’s the interesting part,” Owen drawls. “Your fiancée broke your window to get to a dog she says was locked inside.”
Joel’s eyes fasten on me, wide with shock. “You broke my window.”
I feel a dart of defensiveness. “You locked this poor dog inside.”
“Is that true?” Owen asks Joel.
“Yes, I left the dog in the studio, but—”
“How can you be so cruel?” I burst out, outrage welling up inside me. “He was thirsty and hungry and all alone. I wasn’t sure how long he would survive in there.”
Joel lets out a low, humorless laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Just look at him,” I say, pointing dramatically.
All three of us glance down at the beagle rolling on the sidewalk by my feet, his black, tan, and white coat a little scruffy, but still striking, his big, brown eyes bright and alert. He gives a joyful bark as if pleased to be the center of attention. He looks healthy and happy.
I start to feel a little sick.
Owen lifts his brows at Joel. “You want to explain why you locked a dog in your studio with no access to food or water?”
Joel crosses his arms, looking more irritated by the minute. “I was working late. When I went to lock up, this dog was hanging around. I tried calling animal shelters, but they’d already closed. I didn’t want to leave him outside all night, so I brought him in.”
“Why didn’t you take him home?” I press.
“I’m in a rental with a strict no-pets policy.”
“But he was hungry and thirsty—”
“No, he wasn’t.”
“Yes, he was.”
Joel sighs, long and loud. A little judgy too. “Come with me.”
He digs out his keys and unlocks the door to his studio.
I pick up the beagle so he doesn’t cut his paws on the glass and Owen and I follow Joel inside.
He leads us to a back room and flicks on the light.
I put the beagle down and cast a glance around the room.
Against one wall is a bowl filled with kibble and, beside it, another bowl filled halfway with water.
A dog bed with a folded fleece blanket is positioned in one corner.
On the opposite side of the room, a neat, thick square of newspapers has been taped down.
I take a step back in surprise, remorse rolling through me. “You bought all this?”
Joel nods. “The all-night convenience store on Elm had everything I needed.” He rubs the nape of his neck. “I was planning to come back first thing in the morning and take him to a shelter.”
The beagle noses past me, gives the water a polite sip, sniffs the kibble, then circles once and settles on the blanket with a contented sigh.
Embarrassment sweeps through me. I can’t believe I got it so wrong.
Owen’s shoulders loosen a fraction. “Well, that solves that part of the problem.” His tone turns serious. “Now for the other part. The broken window and unlawful entry.” He turns to Joel. “Do you want to press charges?”
My mouth goes dry. I feel the blood drain from my face. Surely he can’t be serious?
Joel gives me a long, measured look. Finally, he says softly, “I won’t be pressing charges.”
My shoulders drop with relief.
Owen narrows his eyes at me, no hint of humor on his face. “Given the circumstances, I suggest you cover the cost of the window repair.”
I nod hastily. “Absolutely.”
His eyes move to Joel. “You have anything valuable in here?”
“No,” Joel replies. “Just the dog stuff.”
“Okay, then.” Owen hitches up his belt and lets out a disbelieving huff.
“In all my years as sheriff, this is one of the strangest calls I’ve taken.
Definitely one for the books.” He turns back to me.
“Next time, Kenzie, instead of jumping to conclusions and breaking a window, how about you give me a call first?”
“I will,” I promise, my throat thick with embarrassment.
The beagle thumps his tail against the blanket like a drum, as if to say no harm, no foul. I wish I could believe him.
Owen’s gaze flicks between the two of us, sharp with meaning. “And you two might want to work on your communication skills.”
Joel skewers me with a look. “Oh, that’s something we’ll certainly be working on.”
“All right, I’ll leave you to it. You two take care.” He rubs his chest as he heads off, grumbling, “I’m getting heartburn just thinking about what the two of you will get up to next.”
The moment we’re alone, I reluctantly meet Joel’s gaze. “I’m so sorry.”
Joel sighs. This time, a resigned sort of sigh. “As soon as I saw you here, I was surprised and not surprised.”
I blink. “What do you mean?”
He runs a hand through his hair and stares at the floor, as if searching for the right words. “There seems to be a bizarre truth playing out here,” he says slowly. “Call it fate, serendipity, whatever, but every time I try to stay away from you, fate creates another moment like this.”
An unsettling sensation steals over me. “What are you saying?”
“Out of all the store windows in Brown Oaks you could’ve broken, you broke mine.”
“A coincidence.”
“Is it?” His mouth twists. “Think about it. All the times our paths have crossed, starting with the kiss in the storeroom and Kate practically stage-managing our dance at her wedding.”
The memory of a whole string of other moments unspools between us: the movie night that led to a fake engagement, me fainting in his arms at the gym, the wedding cake fiasco. Each one catapulted us together and kept us in the spotlight.
My head is spinning, but I try to laugh it off. “All I know is the more we try to keep this low profile, the more high profile it gets.”
“Exactly,” he says grimly. “I can’t keep chalking it up to coincidence.”
“Then what do you think it is?” I ask, trying to keep my tone level despite my uneasiness. First, he’s seeing threats everywhere. Now, he sees... what? Magic in the air? Conspiring forces? The universe playing choreographer?
“If it isn’t Kate matchmaking us, it’s the town. And that includes a dog.” He gestures to the beagle fast asleep in his bed. “He definitely played us.”
I stare at that sweet, innocent face. “No, he didn’t.”
“Oh, yes, he did.”
I laugh nervously. The idea is ridiculous, even absurd, and yet there’s a tightness along my spine that won’t smooth out.
Could there be a kernel of truth in Joel’s words?
Brown Oaks has a way of leaning into things.
A small town, small streets, and smaller lives, where patterns form like ripples in a puddle and coincidences line up like chess pieces moved into a trap we never saw coming.
Somehow, we’re always at the center of the drama, like the town itself is putting us on display.
A chill brushes across my skin, and I shiver. “I mean, it is strange, I’ll give you that.”
He meets my eyes. “All I know is, the harder I pull away from you, the closer we get. No matter what I do, it all circles back to you.” His eyes trace the curves and planes of my face, and his expression burns me up from the inside.
“You’ve been under my skin since the storeroom, and nothing I do seems to change that. ”
A charged silence passes between us, his words sucking the air out of the room, leaving me dizzy and breathless.
“So what do you suggest we do?” I ask at last, my heart a fist of small, hopeful things.
He takes a breath, then offers something that’s part plan, part surrender. “Maybe we stop treating it like a problem to fix and just go with it. Maybe if we stop pushing back, the chaos will stop, too.”
I take a moment to absorb his words. Then I poke his chest. Wow, that’s impressively hard. It doesn’t even give an inch. I clear my throat. I refuse to allow myself to be distracted.
“If we’re going ahead with the fake engagement,” I say firmly, “you can’t keep blowing hot and cold. One minute you’re all in, the next you’re pushing me away. It hurts. And it’s not fair.”
His expression softens with regret. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I was trying to do the right thing but ended up doing it all wrong.” His jaw tightens and he swallows. “I never thought I’d say this, but I missed you. It scares me just how much I missed you.”
Something in me loosens in relief and tightens in warning at the same time.
I missed you too is on the tip of my tongue. But I can’t...I won’t...say it. Already, I’ve been too vulnerable with him, handing him more of me than I meant to. It’s time for a little caution on my part.
“So,” I say briskly, “you want to keep the fake engagement going for another two weeks and then call it off?”
He regards me silently for a second, as if he sees exactly what I’m doing. Then he nods. “We let the town calm down while we actually see each other. We don’t make it a spectacle. And then I tell everyone you broke it off and broke my heart.”
I snort. “I doubt anyone would believe that.”
“Don’t underestimate yourself,” he says after a pause. “I think you could be quite the heartbreaker.”
I shift uncomfortably. “I don’t want to break anyone’s heart.”
“I know you don’t.”
I’m still wary, not sure if I want to climb on that rollercoaster of emotions again with Joel. But then my gaze shifts to the bowls and the blanket, the way he bought supplies for a dog that wasn’t even his. I can’t deny it; Joel is a good man. Even if he doesn’t believe it about himself.
Anyway, who am I kidding? I couldn’t push him away if I tried. It would be like telling myself not to breathe. Impossible.
I’m not sure either of us knows what we’re doing, but we can’t seem to stay away from one another. Never mind Kate or the town or a beagle nudging us together. Deep down, in a place not even Joel will admit to, he wants me. As much as I want him.
“You taking the dog to your place?” Joel asks now.
I nod. “Tomorrow I’ll contact vets and shelters. See if anyone’s reported him missing.”
“Okay.” He crouches to clip a leash to the beagle’s collar, a leash he must have picked up tonight. “Let me know if you need help.”
“Will do.”
Together we coax the beagle into my car. He hops in, tail thumping happily against the seat.
A sudden gust of wind lifts a scrap of paper and sends it skittering across the sidewalk, as if the street itself is turning a page.
For a moment, the notion that a town can steer people feels a little less fanciful and a little more possible.
I breathe in the cool night air, feel the warm, solid presence of Joel next to me, and let that strange comfort settle in my chest.