Chapter 3 #2
Theo scanned the area and I knew that look on his face the second he zeroed in on a target. It took me all of two seconds to find the group of women at the other side of the park.
“Nope,” I said immediately. “Leave them to their peace. They didn’t come here to meet guys.”
“Says who?” he replied, grinning like a Cheshire freaking cat and reaching for the leash. “Why don’t you let me take him for a while and you can go brood somewhere?”
“I don’t brood. I observe.”
“Observation is just brooding with better posture and a sharper sense of judgment.” Before I could argue, he took the leash from my hand. “Try not to judge too much, will you? Everyone is just trying to blow off some steam here.”
“Try not to embarrass the family,” I called after him when he took off.
He laughed and let Bear drag him away. Traitor that he was, not even the dog looked back, only too happy to go help Theo secure his next victim. I shook my head but drifted toward the market now that I was dogless in a dog park.
I refused to be the guy who hung around here without a furry companion and I wouldn’t go over to the playground without any kids either, so art, it would be. Our house was full of it, expensive pieces that’d been chosen by people who understood things I didn’t even pretend to.
While I’d grown up around it and learned the appropriate reactions as well as the right level of appreciation, I’d never bought any myself. Never invested in it either.
Frankly, I wouldn’t even know where to start, but I moved slowly between the stalls anyway, scanning pieces without really seeing them.
There were landscapes and abstract shapes along with a lot of portraits that felt a little too intense for a sunny afternoon.
None of it really interested me at all, but it was nice to just stroll around.
Until something fast whipped by my leg.
A kid on a scooter was about to slam face first into the edge of a table.
I lunged forward on instinct, my hands shooting out to catch her.
She was small enough to lift her clean off the ground by the straps of her overalls.
Her scooter banged against the table, shaking all the framed paintings on it.
For a second, we both just froze. She blinked at me. I blinked back.
“Well, that was a close one,” I said, giving her a quick onceover and finding no visible sign of injury. The kid glared at me defiantly, like I had just ruined her good time.
“Lu!” a voice called through the ambient noise in the park.
Instantly, my chest constricted but my heart soared.
I hadn’t even turned around yet, but I already knew who that voice belonged to. Drawing in a deep breath, I finally managed to convince my body to work with me, turning in a slow circle until I saw her racing through the crowd.
Her strawberry blonde hair caught the light even under the overcast sky, her expression so determined that it was like everything else in the park had ceased to exist. Her eyes locked onto the kid first. “Lauren Caroline Weatherby. What on earth…”
She trailed off when her eyes lifted and she saw me. I lowered the little girl carefully back down to her feet, but the second she hit the ground, she shoved my leg with surprising force.
“My scooter is new and now it’s ruined,” she snapped, pointing accusingly at the scratches that hadn’t been there thirty seconds ago. “Thanks to you.”
“Whoa,” I said mildly. “I’m not sure a scratch counts as ruined.”
“It’s damaged,” she insisted with the kind of indignant rage that only a five—maybe six—year-old could muster. “What if it doesn’t work anymore?”
“Then I’ll buy you a new one. Relax.” I was trying to keep it cool, but with every passing second, I was more and more aware of Adeline approaching. The kid was Adeline’s?
The little girl huffed, but her mother had reached us. I shifted my weight uncomfortably on my feet as she checked the little girl over too. “Lu! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Lu—Lauren Caroline Weatherby, apparently—said. “He attacked me.”
Both of my eyebrows shot up. “Wait a second, that’s not how I would describe what happened at all. I just kept her from cracking her head open.”
Adeline didn’t react because she was too busy staring at me, those blue eyes still brighter than any I’d ever seen before or since her. Looking into them again, I felt like I’d been thrown back to high school.
Up close, there were differences about her that I hadn’t seen before. She was definitely softer in some ways, her gaze not as intent or assessing as it used to be. Maybe she was just tired, but her eyes themselves were still that same impossible blue.
For the longest time, she just stood there, staring at me like she was stuck in time. And me? For all my quick wit and wise-ass comments, I just stared right back, trying to remind myself that she wasn’t the one who’d gotten away.
She was the one who’d walked away, willingly and with no notice at all. I couldn’t allow myself to get sucked in a second time.
If I did, I wasn’t sure I would survive the fallout.