Chapter 4
“If you aren’t heading this way…” Lucy murmurs, her attention jutting around us as we step over the edge of the quaint downtown.
I’m not, but I’ve gotten a glimpse at her smile now. A small, tentative one. It makes me want to walk a mile or two to earn more of them.
“I offered to walk you,” I start, sliding my free hand into the front pocket of my jeans. “That’s what I plan to do.”
Her dark eyes blink back at me through equally dark feathery bangs. “Why would you do that?” she asks, almost to herself.
It’s a fair question. Along with—why have I been unable to stop thinking about her for the past few days? Like a constant loop, flashes of her come and go relentlessly.
At first, I had myself convinced it was the adrenaline. How could I not think about the woman I almost witnessed in a fatal accident? How could I not want closure after being the one to pull her from harm’s way?
But then I found myself glancing up that street at every possible chance. The one she ran with impressive speed in those big combat boots. And I found myself hoping I’d see her there.
That can’t be written off as adrenaline as easily.
We come to a stop beside a sign for Pine + Paw Rescue. “Because it’s a nice morning,” I offer nonchalantly. “And because”—I lean forward, as if coming closer to share a secret—“I’ve been dying to ask you something.”
She leans towards me too. “Then by all means, ask.”
“What music had you so captivated that day?”
She flashes another smile, this one with a conspiring air to it. “Gin Blossoms.”
I lift a hand and press it over my chest. “Well, that’s a good choice. I wouldn’t pause them to speak to me either.”
That earns a laugh until she bites her bottom lip to contain it. I don’t want her to contain it though.
“Can I ask you something?”
I nod. “By all means.”
“How did you manage to appear out of thin air that day, like a superhero right out of a story book?”
Satisfaction blooms in my chest, and I tilt my head to the side, considering. “Call it… serendipitous that I was there.”
“Oh, he believes in serendipity,” she murmurs.
“Don’t y—”
My question is cut short by the front door of the house on the property flinging open, revealing a man about thirty years our senior with an appearance strikingly similar to Lucy’s. He has the same fair skin, thick brows, and dark eyes.
He casts me a scrutinizing look, just like a father would. And I realize I want to know if he is her father, I want to know everything about this woman—the feeling is so strong it’s startling.
“Just in time, Lucy. Did you bring a volunteer with you?” The question is careful, as if he wants to know who I am to her, and for some reason that thrills me.
“No, I’ll be right there, Dad,” she calls back. He nods, hesitates, then follows the path over to the red barn with the Pine + Paw lettering above the door.
I have to bite my tongue to not make a joke about meeting her father this soon. If both of our run-ins are any indication, I’m right on the verge of scaring her off already.
“I’ll let you get to your day,” I assure her. “And maybe I’ll see you at Jitters again in the very near future?”
She tips her head to the side, her mouth quirking. It feels like I’m missing out on a secret. “Maybe,” she agrees in a sly little voice.
“I’m counting on it,” I admit, drumming my fingers on the coffee cup they’re wrapped around.
She starts down the drive towards the red barn, stopping to turn back around and say, “But either way, I promise I’ll pause my Gin Blossoms for you if the situation arises again.”
There’s a ping in my chest when she gives me a full smile, and I want to ask her where and when I need to be to make that happen. I want to ask a hundred more questions until I understand each subtle tell that has graced her expression.
But I have a feeling Lucy’s the type of person that makes someone work for such things.
“Looking forward to it,” I assure her.