Chapter 14 #2
“What is it?” Emily leaned across the table to see.
“Move.” Rosie waved Emily over. “Come here, you have to see these.”
I got up. Emily slid past, and the whole booth shuffled like a slow-moving puzzle—Rosie shifting toward the window, Abby closing the gap, Evan and Nate scooting down until Emily landed beside Rosie with the phone already angled between them.
I dropped back into the end seat, now next to Nate.
Across from me, all three of them were talking at once in a register I couldn't quite follow.
Nate leaned back beside me, arms crossed, watching the three of them with the easy patience of a man who'd learned when to stay out of the way.
“What happened with Daisy?” He kept his voice casual, but his eyes tracked to Emily for a half-second before coming back to me. “Did you end up finding a home for her?”
“This morning, actually. Cute family. Two kids, fenced yard.”
Something flickered across his face.
“Good,” he said. “That's good.”
“You liked her.”
“Emily would have killed me.”
“I've got plenty of other dogs at the rescue, when you guys are ready.”
“We're not ready yet.” He said it quickly. “Emily's right about the house.”
“Sure.”
A beat of silence.
“What kind of other dogs you got?”
The corner of my mouth twitched.
Evan, who had apparently been listening while pretending not to, leaned forward from the other side of Nate. “You're getting a dog?”
“I'm not getting a dog,” Nate replied.
“You asked about the other dogs,” Evan pointed out.
“I'm asking. Can't a guy just ask a question?” He laughed, looking at me. “Don't tell Emily I asked.”
“I don't tell anyone anything,” I said. “It's one of my better qualities.”
Rosie's gasp cut across the table.
“It's almost ten.”
She was still holding my phone, staring at the screen with wide eyes.
“I have to be up at five,” Rosie added.
That got everyone moving. Frank appeared before we'd even flagged him down. Nate settled the tab before anyone could argue, ignoring Emily's protest with the ease of a man who came from money.
Outside, the night air carried the last of the day's warmth, the mountains holding onto it just long enough. Main Street was quiet, a few lights on in windows above the shops, the distant sound of something playing from the brewery two blocks over.
Evan and Abby said their goodbyes first. Abby hugged Rosie, then surprised me by hugging me, too. Evan shook my hand, said something about the porch boards he absolutely meant, and then they were gone, taillights disappearing around the corner.
Nate and Emily headed in the other direction toward her apartment above Spencer Construction. Emily called something back over her shoulder that I didn't catch, but Rosie laughed, so it was probably about me.
And then it was quiet.
Rosie's truck was parked two spots down from mine. She had her keys in her hand but wasn't moving toward it yet.
Neither was I.
I should let her go. She has to be up in seven hours. I'll see her tomorrow.
“Thank you,” I said. “For the invite.”
She turned to look at me, the streetlight catching the loose strands of hair around her face. “I'm glad you were able to come.”
“I almost didn't.”
Her expression shifted, something careful sliding into place. “Because of the emergency?”
“The mare and foal were stable when I left.” I stepped closer without meaning to. “Usually, I'd stay another hour. Two. Just to be sure.”
“But you didn't.”
“Not this time.”
The space between us felt charged with something I didn't have words for yet. Close enough that I could see the way her breathing changed, shallow and uncertain.
“Why not?” Her voice came out quieter than before.
Because you invited me. Because I wanted to be here more than I wanted to stay there. Because I'm tired of always putting others before myself.
“Felt important,” I said instead. “To set that boundary.”
“Oh.” She looked down at her keys, turning them over in her palm. “That's... that's good. You should do that more.”
“I'm working on it.”
She glanced up at me through her lashes, and the look on her face made something tighten in my chest.
“You had fun tonight?”
“Yeah.” The admission cost me less than I expected. “I did.”
“Even the sad story competition?”
“Especially that part.”
Her mouth curved. “You're lying.”
“I'm not.”
We stood there, too close for casual conversation, not close enough for what I actually wanted. The streetlight hummed overhead. A car passed a block down, headlights sweeping across storefronts.
Rosie shifted her weight, and her shoulder brushed mine. She didn't step back.
“Cal.”
“Yeah?”
“I'm really glad you came.”
She'd already said that. But it meant something different this time. It made my pulse kick up in a way that had nothing to do with exhaustion or adrenaline.
I should say something. Something that acknowledged what was happening between us without pushing too hard, too fast. Something that left room for her to decide.
“Me, too.”
Not enough. Not nearly enough.
But it was what I had.
She bit her lip, eyes searching my face for something I hoped she found. Her hand moved, fingers brushing against mine for half a second before pulling away.
“See you tomorrow? With more dogs?” she asked.
“I'll be there.”
She nodded slowly. “Great.”
“Goodnight, Rosie.”
“Goodnight, Cal.”
She turned and walked to her truck. I stayed where I was and watched her go—keys jingling, hair catching the light, shoes quiet on the pavement. She climbed in, pulled the door shut, and the engine turned over on the first try.
The headlights swept across me as she pulled out.
I stood there until her taillights disappeared around the corner.
Tomorrow felt too far away.