Chapter 33
There are some sounds so familiar, they almost don’t register in your brain when you hear them. I always thought my mother’s laugh was amongst those sounds.
Until I heard it coming from where I had just left Jake.
My head swivels to the side, in the direction of the kennels. When had she snuck past me?
It had only been a few minutes that I stepped away from him, I swear. Taylor and Ellie needed help in the lobby, the pile of donations threatening to swallow them whole with an hour left in the event.
Together, we loaded up half the goods and left them in my parents’ office to be sorted and put away properly later.
Now, I’m coming back down the hall for the kennels to the distinct jangle of my highly amused mother.
Pushing open the door, I find them in front of the row of puppy Polaroids. There are only two left hanging there for adoption.
“And he had to have only been taking one at a time, because I had no clue where my mail was disappearing to,” Jake says, clearly in the middle of a story. He’s leaning against the wall, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and an endearing twinkle in his eye as he recalls the memory.
He’s perfectly relaxed, the picture of ease chatting with someone he’s only just met. Something I have never been.
My mom seems to hang on his every word, her hands clasped in front of her and a delighted smile on her face. “How did you figure it out?” she asks, fully invested in the story.
“Well, I went to move his dog bed to vacuum and there they were. About a week’s worth of bills.”
“And he just picked up the habit one day? Out of the clear blue?” She leans towards him, completely oblivious to the fact that I’ve approached.
Jake has watched my whole descend down the hall, though, and I let myself hope that maybe some of that twinkle in his eye is for me.
“He did it all the time at my old home—no matter where I tried to leave the mail. First it was the coffee table, easy access. Then the dining table and kitchen counter, he still got it. Eventually I started closing it in a kitchen drawer. He hasn’t touched it since I moved here though. ”
“Maybe he’s calmer, more settled here,” Mom guesses.
Jake’s mouth pulls into a conspiring smirk as his attention bores into me. “I think so too. He definitely prefers Ellicottville.”
It’s about the time my skin is flushing under his gaze that my mother realizes I’m here.
She takes a step to the side, as if to open the conversation to me as well.
“There you are, sweetie,” she says. “I came over thinking you’d need help with everyone wanting to see dogs, but your friend beat me to it. ”
As if on cue, the Hartley family comes in from the side yard, our beagle labrador mix, Oakley, strolling between Scott and his daughter. “Excellent call, Jake,” Scott announces. “Oakley is exactly what we were hoping to find.”
“Wonderful,” Mom jumps in. “If you’re ready, I can take you up front to get going on the adoption process?”
“That would be great, Susie. Thanks.”
She’s beaming as she motions for the Hartleys to lead the way.
Then before leaving as well, she turns back to me and murmurs, “I am curious about one thing though.” She raises a brow at me, causing tension to prick the back of my skull.
I know that look, it’s the one she uses when she thinks she’s already figured out the answer to her own question.
“Why didn’t you tell us he was coming to help today? ”
“I didn’t know,” I reply honestly.
“You didn’t?” She doesn’t believe me. I hear it in the way the question drags out longer than necessary.
“She didn’t,” Jake jumps in, more than likely reading the discomfort on my face. “I just showed up to get my foster dog, actually.”
His interjection does the trick, causing my mom to focus her attention on the kennels behind us. “Which dog are you fostering?” she asks.
“I’m taking Bear home with me.”
This successfully stops her in her tracks. Turning sharply back towards us, her eyes ping pong between Jake and me. “Did you say Bear? What an interesting choice.”
“There’s nothing interesting about that. Bear’s a great dog,” I snap.
Her attention settles where his arm is brushing mine, the backs of our hands just barely touching. I hadn’t realized we drifted that close, and with the awareness, I immediately add a sliver of space once more.
Of course, the second I do, disappointment weighs heavy on me. I wish I could be as comfortable with things as Jake. That I could announce to my mother how much I enjoy being in his presence, no matter what’s brought him to our town.
“He certainly is a great dog,” she agrees gently. “I wasn’t aware that we were looking to foster him though.”
I avert my gaze, looking down at my boots. “Special circumstances came up.”
“I see,” Mom says sympathetically. Apparently, Jake isn’t the only one that noticed the way I gravitate towards Bear’s pointed yet floppy ears and big brown eyes and that adorable white patch in his black and tan fur.
“Well, I’m happy to hear this. I’ll leave you in good hands with Lucy for all the foster paperwork.
Besides, I need to get Oakley squared away. ”
The two of them say their goodbyes with her insisting he calls her Susie, not Mrs. Hart, and him promising he won’t be a stranger.
I wish there was a good way for him to keep that promise.
I want him around every day. I want to see him smile at me and to hear those charming stories. I want no slivers of space between us.
As soon as she disappears down the hall, I blink up at patient, understanding eyes. “Ready to go get Bear?” he asks.
“I’m sorry about how I reacted, I just don’t want to lie to her about you being a travel writer. And I don’t want to—”
I don’t want her to sour when she learns why he’s really here.
“Hey, we don’t want any pitchforks chasing me out of here. Right?”
“We certainly don’t,” I agree. “But I still wish…”
I trail off, unsure how to finish that sentence. Do I wish I was brave enough to announce to everyone that I like the hotel mogul? Or do I wish this hotel wasn’t happening in my town? Then there would be no need for pitchforks or distance or lies.
But that would also mean no Jake to begin with. And I don’t want that at all.
“What if, when the event ends, we get Bear and head back to my place together? I’ll make you dinner while we help him start to settle in.”
“You’ll make dinner?” I ask. Did I know he cooked?
“As long as you like spaghetti from a box and sauce from a jar, I can make us dinner.”
Me, and Bear, at Jake’s apartment for a cozy night and home-cooked dinner. I try to tamp down the soft flutter in my stomach and fail. “That sounds perfect.”