28
I look at Leo’s profile. Will someone else take over the store once he’s got it up and running? I don’t want that. I want his jaw to unclench, and his shoulders to relax. I want him to challenge me to another bet.
“How about another round of drinks?” he asks. “Cora, another ale? Micki, Jaz, what are you having?”
Bennett scrutinizes Leo, forehead creased. “What the fuck, Useless? You started your own firm? Here? Why?”
Useless? Firm?
Leo forces a smile. “Um, sort of. How about I tell you all about it later? More drinking, less talking.”
There’s enthusiastic agreement all around the table except from Courtney. She looks at her shiny wristwatch. “I don’t know.” She faces Bennett. “When did you tell Diane we’d be back?”
He finishes the rest of his lager in two gulps. “Yes, we should probably head out.”
Next to me, Leo leans back as he exhales. “Are you sure? The night’s still young.”
“Yeah, man. We’ll see you for lunch tomorrow, though.” Bennett pulls the chair out for Courtney, and they gather their jackets.
They take their leave, and for a long moment, no one at our table speaks. Finally, Micki grabs her drink and moves to one of the now-empty chairs. Reluctantly, I scoot away from Leo to give us both more space.
Micki looks at us above the rim of her glass. “Fine, I’ll be the one to address the elephant, then.” The glass thumps when she sets it down. “You.” She points a finger at Leo “Your brother doesn’t know you opened a branch of Canine King here?”
“I thought I was the only one who picked up on that,” Roderick says. “Yeah, what’s the deal there? And nice going, Donna—you almost outed him.”
“What? I didn’t know,” she protests.
“You shouldn’t be ashamed of it,” Jaz says. “It’s a good store.”
Leo puts his hands up. “It’s fine. I was going to tell him tomorrow anyway. That, or he’d find out when they come trick-or-treating.”
“Why haven’t you told him?” I ask. “Or do you not want to talk about it?”
He fiddles with the signet ring he always wears on his right hand and glances toward the others. “Yeah, maybe not.”
His unwillingness to share stings. I know he doesn’t owe me any explanations, but I want to know what’s going on in his head. He’s always so reluctant to talk about his life before he moved here. Is there something to the rumors Donna heard after all?
When the chitchat resumes, Leo leans closer to me. “I forgot to tell you there’ll be more people at lunch tomorrow. If you want to skip out on training, I’ll totally understand.”
I scrunch up my nose. “Actually, it’s my bad. Micki is doing my hair before the Halloween extravaganza starts, so I can’t come. I should have told you sooner.”
He reaches out as if it’s an everyday thing and runs his fingers through a strand down my back. “She’s not cutting it, is she?”
My insides jolt at his touch, but I force myself to be still. Everything is cool. Nothing to see here. When I think I have control of my voice again, I turn my head his way. It’s not lost on me that his hand still lingers low on my back.
“Only a trim,” I say. “It’s overdue.”
“Like years overdue,” Micki chimes in.
Leo’s hand twitches against my back at the intrusion into our private sphere, but before he can pull away, I scoot a few inches closer to him and lean into his touch. He stills again, seeming to get my message.
“I don’t mean to alarm you,” Micki continues to Leo, “but you’re not going to recognize her when I’m done. That rats’ nest will be a thing of the past.” She gestures to my head. “Pearls before swine.”
Jaz and Donna nod.
“I’d give anything for hair like that,” Donna says.
As the three of them continue their rant about people not taking care of their tresses the way they should, I finish my third beer and set it down.
“I like it, too,” Leo says beside me, and now his fingers start moving. They tug softly at the ends of my hair, each pull sending electric sparks across my scalp.
Between his touch and the alcohol warming my blood, I’m melting in my seat. If I was a cat, I’d be purring. I steal another glance at Leo, and this time I don’t look away when his gaze catches me. Because I am caught. A little bit against my will, and definitely against my better judgment. I want Leo. I want to talk to him, to touch him, to kiss him, to ride next to him in the car, to chase dogs through tunnels with him. I’m not sure when this happened, I just know that it did.
I’m stupidly lost in him until a pointy boot hits my shin, reminding me we’re not alone at the table.
“Didn’t you say you had to get up early tomorrow to finish your dress?” Micki asks me, her voice one hundred percent failing at hiding how much she’s dying to stand up and shout “told you so” in front of everyone in the brewery.
I do have to get up early. But it’s not that late and—
“I’ll walk you home if you need to go,” Leo volunteers.
“That’s so nice.” Micki sighs. “Isn’t that nice?”
I send her a faux-icy glare. She’s not even trying to be subtle. “Sure. I still have to settle my bill, though. Are you sure you don’t want to stay for another round?” I ask Leo.
He shakes his head. “I’m good. And I’ve got the tab. I’ll go tell the bartender.”
He’s halfway across the room before I can voice a protest at his chivalry. The bench is instantly colder with him gone.
“You’re welcome,” Micki hisses across the table. “Now, take him home and do nasty things to him. For your sake. End the drought.”
“Charming.”
“You know you want to. He wants to.”
Leo is waiting for the bartender to return with his check. He’s leaning against the bar counter, his fingers drumming an impatient rhythm. He glances my way, catching me gawking, and the corner of his mouth turns up.
Micki looks like she’s about to start clapping her hands in celebration.
“Chill,” I tell her, putting on my jacket. “I’m not sleeping with him. He’s walking me home.”
She pouts. “But you’d make such beautiful babies.”
“Okay, you weirdo. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye guys,” I say to the others.
Micki blows me a kiss.
“Ready?” I hand Leo his jacket.
He finishes signing the receipt and slides it across the bar. “Ready.”
He steers me out of the brewery with a hand on my back, but when we get outside, he lets go. We walk for a minute without speaking.
“It was nice to meet your brother,” I say eventually. “Were you guys close growing up?”
“In some ways. It gets competitive between boys, though.”
“You competitive? No way.”
He chuckles. “Can you believe it?”
Another arm touch. I bet if I flex my hand, it will touch his. I’m working up the nerve when the backs of his fingers graze mine. He holds still there, waiting for me.
“I believe it,” I say, letting my fingers interlace with his. His warm palm against my cool one is like stepping inside after being caught in the rain. Every touching point radiates comfort and something more urgent, and when he squeezes tighter, the pressure resonates deep in my stomach.
“I didn’t mean to be cryptic earlier by the way.” Leo looks at me. “About Bennett and the store. When I said I didn’t want to talk about it, I meant in front of the others. I don’t mind telling you.”
My chest expands. “No?”
He shakes his head. “It has to do with people I don’t want to let down.”
“Like your dad?”
“You know about my dad?” It comes out sharp.
Whoa there. “Not really, but I figured since Canine King is a family business…”
“Oh.” He pauses and nods. “Right. Well, my father and my uncles have relied quite a bit on my position in New York for contacts, so this”—he gestures around us—“is not what they want from me.”
“Are you sure? Maybe you’d be surprised—”
“I tried,” Leo says. “I suggested something like this to my father before I left the city, and he laughed.”
“But you are here. I don’t understand.”
“They don’t know I opened this branch because I’m financing it myself. I wanted it to be profitable before I told them.”
I stare at him. That’s ballsy. And I can’t imagine entirely legal. “And Bennett will tell your dad?”
A wry smile. “He’ll relish it. It’ll give him a leg up.”
“But you’re both adults now. Why does it matter?”
He’s quiet for a while. Shrugs. “Maybe because it’s always mattered. No one wants to disappoint their parents. And my mom is…” His voice trails off.
I finally dare the question I’ve been wanting to ask for a long time. “Dawn told me she was in an accident?”
He sucks in his lips. Releases them. “My senior year of high school. She fell off her horse—cracked her skull when the helmet flew off and broke her back. Still needs assistance round the clock.”
The pain in his voice reaches out and squeezes my heart. “That must have been so hard.”
“For everyone. My dad, too. The brain injury erased skills everyone else takes for granted. But she has a great assistant, and I know she’s still herself inside, if that makes sense. Stubborn, curious, passionate about animals… You’d get along great.” He smiles. “I should try to see her more often.”
I nod. “She sounds wonderful. Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“I don’t mind. Everyone has something.”
“Yeah. Maybe you could talk to Bennett tomorrow and tell him to keep it to himself?”
“Nah.” His grip on my hand tightens. “I should be able to stand up for what I want to do, right?”
“Don’t ask me. My parents still think I’m going to be a dentist one day.”
“Why?”
“Long story.” I give him a tight smile as we stop outside Happy Paws’ back door. “Some other time.”
He faces me without letting go of my hand. “I’ll hold you to that.”
I look up at him, at his curved lips, half shaded in the weak light from an old, rusted sconce. Is this it? The moment?
I wait, knowing his hands will soon be firm on my waist, not demanding but sure. They’ll find their way beneath my black sweater where they’ll caress the sensitive skin at the bottom of my spine and make me shiver, not from the coolness of the night but from a longing that’s alive and urgent at my core.
Then he’ll pull me closer. Slowly. He’ll savor the approach in that meticulous way of his so that only the greatest self-control will keep me from charging him. His hands will run up my sides and down the length of my arms, circling my wrists where I’m sure my racing pulse will call to his skin.
Maybe he’ll stop there, smirk at me, and lean in close, his breath a gossamer caress against my ear as he murmurs something like “I bet I want you more than you want me right now.” And he’d lose that bet, too, because there’s no chance.
Then, finally, I’ll get a taste, and his flavors will be vibrant life and sweet hops. A case of it would not be enough. I know that for certain.
My mouth waters as his eyes skirt the edges of my face before settling on mine. He blinks. His lips part.
“I’m glad I got to hang out with you guys tonight,” he says, letting my hand go and taking a step back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
What the hell?