34
“Stop tugging,” Joel calls from the back deck. “You’re giving Turbo mixed signals.”
“Says the king of mixed signals,” I mumble under my breath.
Joel steps down onto the grass and walks toward me, holding out his hand for the leash. With a defeated sigh, I hand it over.
“He’s walking you,” he explains as he makes the leash shorter. “It should be the other way around.”
“I know. I just don’t know how to change it.”
“You have to be steadier. He has to learn discipline.”
“Discipline?” Turbo stares up at me with those soulful brown eyes and my resolve wobbles. “How am I supposed to discipline that face?”
“Gentle discipline is love.” Joel gives the leash a firm tug. “Sit.”
Turbo immediately plops his butt on the grass like he’s a trained show dog. This, from the same creature who, only an hour ago, chewed a hole through my sock while maintaining direct eye contact.
My mouth falls open. “Are you some kind of dog whisperer?”
Joel chuckles, low and warm. It makes something flutter in my chest. “He’s a beagle. Half stomach, half stubbornness. You can’t out-stubborn a beagle, but you can outsmart one.” He slips a treat from his pocket and gives it to Turbo. “Good boy.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s bribery.”
“In dog world, it’s positive reinforcement.”
I’m trying to concentrate on what he’s saying, but my gaze keeps returning to his mouth like it’s a magnetic field. I know all too well what he can do with that mouth.
I snap out of it when Joel straightens. He holds the leash low at his hip and begins walking with deliberate, unhurried steps. Turbo trots beside him like they’ve been doing this for years.
I stare, completely betrayed. “I can’t believe he only listens to you.”
Joel glances over his shoulder. “He knows who’s in charge. Right now, that’s me.”
It’s hard to argue with that assertion. In a faded T-shirt and worn jeans, a baseball cap shading his eyes, he wears authority like it’s built in. Hmm, I like a man in charge. Idly, I wonder about all the different ways Joel would take charge in other areas.
“Kenzie.” I jump a little. I didn’t realize he was so close. He reaches over and gently tugs my ponytail. “Are you with me here?” he murmurs. “Because it looks like you’re...distracted.”
I feel a telltale heat in my cheeks. “I’m with you. Absolutely.”
“Are you sure?”
My blush deepens. “Yup. Totally.”
Something in his face softens. “Okay, then.”
After a few laps around my backyard, he hands the leash back to me. “Your turn. Keep the lead short. Don’t let him get ahead.”
I take the leash and mimic his movements. Turbo follows for ten seconds, then picks up a scent and zigzags across the grass trying to follow it. I call his name, but he doesn’t listen.
“Okay,” Joel says, stepping in. “Let’s fix your grip.”
He gently repositions my hand, his fingers brushing mine, a barely-there touch that sparks through me like static under my skin. He’s close enough that I feel his breath on my temple and the heat radiating off his body.
“Steady,” he murmurs in my ear. “He won’t respond to nervous energy.”
“I have plenty of nervous energy.”
“I’ve noticed,” he says softly.
I look up. His eyes meet mine for a moment too long. And in that stretch of silence, it feels like we’re standing on the edge of something neither of us wants to name.
He clears his throat and eases back half a step, breaking the tension building between us.
“Don’t use the leash to steer him,” he says, back to being practical again. “Use your body. Change direction. You’re not trying to overpower him. You’re trying to become more interesting than whatever he’s chasing.”
“So I need to be the most exciting thing in his world?”
“You do.” A second of silence. “That shouldn’t be too hard.”
The sincerity in his voice warms me. Is there a hidden meaning there? Is he saying I’m the most exciting thing in his world? No. I’m overthinking everything, as usual.
“You’re good at this,” I admit. “The dog training.”
“It’s easier when you love dogs.”
Which he clearly does. I think about his golden retriever, the one he won’t talk about. “Will you ever get another one?” I ask, rushing the words out before I can change my mind.
His answer is quiet. “No.”
“Why not?”
He scratches gently behind Turbo’s ears. “I think you’ve hit your question limit for today.”
I suppress a sigh. Every time I’m with him, more questions surface. I know there’s no point in pushing. He’ll only shut down. Instead, I ask, “You up for lemonade?”
Joel and I sit in companionable silence on my back deck, sipping the lemonade I made earlier. Turbo is conked out in his dog bed, paws twitching. The sky is clear and bright, that perfect, rinsed blue that makes everything feel simpler than it is.
“Are you still coming to trivia at Sofia’s tonight?” I ask.
“Yes. Reluctantly.”
“Honestly, I thought you’d cancel.”
“I was tempted,” he admits. “But I’m convinced Tess would hunt me down.”
I laugh. “She would. And don’t forget Sofia.” I deepen my voice to mimic Liam Neeson. “She has a particular set of skills. You wouldn’t stay hidden for long.”
He smiles. “I can believe that.” His eyes drift to the locket at my throat. “You always wear that,” he says, curiosity flickering across his features. “You play with it when you’re nervous.”
I glance down to find my fingers absently hooked around the locket. I let my hand fall to my lap. I am nervous. And of course he picks up on it. He doesn’t miss a thing.
“It was a gift from my grandmother,” I tell him. “It’s one of my most treasured possessions.”
“You never take it off?”
“No.”
“Were you close to her?”
“I was. She died just after she gave me this.” I set my glass down and open the heart-shaped silver pendant to show him the tiny, pressed flower inside. “It’s a forget-me-not,” I say softly. “So I always remember who I am.”
“Wise words.”
“She was a wise woman.” I close the locket and feel the familiar weight settle against my skin.
His eyes come back to me. “The other day, when you talked about your work, it sounded like there was more behind why you chose to be a greeting card illustrator.”
I pick up my glass and take a sip to buy myself time.
I’m surprised he remembered. Abruptly, I want to tell him.
Bobby never understood, but Joel seems to get me in a way Bobby never did.
“The world is loud and sharp sometimes,” I say quietly.
“I want our cards to be a little pocket of softness. Something people can send when words are hard, or when moments matter. I guess that’s my way of helping. ”
“I like that,” he says after a moment. “Your work means something.”
I look at him over the rim of my glass. “Why do you take more pictures of food than people?”
“I prefer food to people.”
“You don’t get along with people?”
He contemplates his lemonade, his thumb rubbing condensation off the glass. “It’s more that I prefer my own company.”
“No wonder you and Kate work so well together.”
His slow, sexy smile sends flutters through my stomach. It’s a funny thing, but I notice the hairline crack in his stern facade whenever I challenge him or get a little cheeky.
I point a friendly finger at him. “You know, I only get snarky when you’re around.”
“Or maybe I bring out your wild side.”
“I don’t have a wild side.”
He flashes me a knowing grin. “A certain storage room begs to differ.”
I feel my face flush. “Joel, we will not speak of the storage room.”
We will not speak of my most dangerous memory. The one I can’t stop thinking about. No matter how hard I try.
His too-perceptive eyes move to the pulse beating in my neck. “So very prim and proper, Ms. Kenzie Ellis,” he says roughly. “And the opposite of what I believe you’re really like.”
My pulse spikes. That look in his eyes... For one long minute, I sit frozen.
“You are incredibly dangerous to me,” Joel murmurs at last.
“I am?”
“Yes.”
A smile takes over my face. “I feel flattered.”
“You shouldn’t feel flattered.”
“But I do.”
He shakes his head. “Woman, you are killing me.”
I wink at him. “That’s because I’m dangerous.”
I take a long, cool sip of my drink. The lemonade tastes sweeter, or maybe it’s just the company.