Chapter 23
A siren blares.
As the red fire truck barrels up Central Park West on Saturday morning, the tan Chihuahua I’m walking along the inside path points his snout in the air.
I lift a hand to my forehead like a batter waiting to see if the ball soars out of the ballpark. “And it’s heading for the bleachers! Almost there!”
The dog’s mouth is closed but his nose is poised, and anticipation winds through me with the possibility that I might win big in the dog bingo game we play. Because when a dog you’re walking erupts in a howl, you get all the points.
I stare at the seven-pounder trotting by my side, waiting, waiting, waiting for the hound to cry out.
Nick is next to me, his hand wrapped around the leather leash of a Jack Russell Terrier, who’s making a temporary home at the Little Friends rescue where we volunteer.
He smirks as his dog emits a soft whine.
“Maybe you’ll win, or maybe I’ll school you,” he says, just before his dog unleashes the most epic howl I’ve ever heard.
His white and brown beast proceeds to imitate a wild animal for the next thirty seconds, sounding thoroughly adorable until the fire truck’s siren begins to fade in the distance.
“Man,” I say, dejected, as the dogs resume their usual sniff-and-trot pace. “I’m having the worst luck this week.”
First, there was the knee whack, then my dumbass disposal of a delicious sandwich, and on top of that is my zombie of a marriage.
I just can’t kill the undead union with ordinary weapons.
I’m going to have to go The Walking Dead style and take it down at the brain stem with a full-scale divorce attack.
It’s like a hangover that won’t quit.
But the really bad luck is Natalie’s 180-degree turn after our glorious office sexcapades. No more workplace vixen. Instead, she’s Miss Prim and Proper, zoned in on the most mind-numbing, soul-stealing thing ever . . . paperwork.
“Rough week?” Nick asks, clapping me on the back. “Did you get friend-zoned by a hooker again?”
“Yeah. The one I’m taking to your wedding,” I say, giving it right back at him.
“Ouch.” As we near Little Friends, Nick clears his throat. “Speaking of my nuptials . . .”
“Let me guess. You want me to become an officiant so I can pronounce you man and wife.”
“Wow, no,” he says, shaking his head adamantly. “Like, never ever.”
“Your loss. I’d be good with that,” I say, then my mind races back to Vegas, grabbing at bits and pieces of my wedding with no real luck. It’s still just Elvis, sideburns, and I do.
“I was actually hoping you’d be my best man.”
I stop in my tracks, strangely surprised that Nick asked me. “I thought you’d want Spencer to be your best man.”
My twin brother shrugs. “Yeah, but you’re stuck sharing DNA with me, so there’s that.”
I wipe a nonexistent tear from my eye. “Wow, that was heartfelt. So touching.”
“Seriously, though. I mean it, Wyatt. No joking now. You helped me realize how much Harper meant to me. You gave it to me straight and helped me see that my feelings for her were real. Hell, you’re my brother no matter what. But you also gave me a kick in the ass when I needed one.”
I lift my foot and pretend to whack his butt outside Central Park. “I’m excellent at administering ass-kickings.”
“I have no idea how this happened, but you give weirdly good advice when it comes to women. And I want you to be the one standing with me when we tie the knot.”
I clap him on the back. “Hey, giving advice about you and Harper was easy. You guys are two peas in a pod. You’re like gibbons.”
He arches an eyebrow in question.
“Did you know that along with termites, bald eagles, swans, and beavers, they’re one of the rare pairs of animals that mate for life?”
“I did not know that about gibbons. But now my brain has been expanded.”
“I could tell as soon as I saw the way you looked at her that she was your gibbon,” I say, and hold up a fist for knocking. “Better than a termite.”
He laughs. “Harper is definitely my gibbon. And way cooler than a termite.”
“Also, let me just add that I look really fucking good in a tux.” I make like I’m adjusting a bowtie as we wait at the crosswalk.
Nick gestures from him to me and back. “We’re both handsome devils, even if I’m handsomer.”
“Hey, King of Words, you do know that handsomer is not a word people use?”
“But they should, when it comes to you and me,” he says, and as we cross the street, I reflect on Nick’s comment about good advice.
I can recall precisely what I said to him about Harper—how he needed to man up and face his feelings for her.
The question dangles before me—since I gave my brother that sage advice, what would I tell myself?
How would I advise me to handle my situation with Natalie? But I draw a blank.
“It’d be an honor to be your best man,” I tell Nick, since at least I have an answer to his request. “Especially since you’re definitely stuck with me.
I’m like a dog howl. I’m contagious.” That gives me an idea.
“Hey, what if I howled? Are there points for that?” I raise my chin to the skies and do my best wolf call.
And my Chihuahua goes ape-shit.
“Better late than never,” I say to the pooch.
At Little Friends, we return the dogs to the rescue manager, a cute brunette named Penny. Her hair is swept up in a high ponytail, and she has a tattoo of some kind of flower on the top of her shoulder blade, one I haven’t seen on her before.
“Nice ink,” I say when she turns around.
Absently, she runs her hand along her neck and flashes a bright smile. “Thanks, just had it done. And how are my favorite guys?’’
“Oh, we’re grand,” Nick says, drumming his hand on the counter.
Penny laughs and shakes her head. “I meant Turbo and Charger,” she says, pointing to the dogs we walked, who are now romping in an open play area behind her. Gotta love a shelter that gives badass names to little dudes.
“Those guys are rad. They totally live up to their names,” I say.
“Good to hear. Someone is coming in later to check out Charger,” she says, gesturing to the dog Nick walked.
She crosses her index and middle finger.
“I’m hoping it works out. The guy who’s coming in just wanted to make sure he’s not a big barker or howler.
Apartment concerns and all. Was he noisy when you walked him? Because he’s good here.”
My spine straightens, and Nick gulps then quickly weighs in. “He only howls at fire trucks.”
Penny’s nose crinkles. A small constellation of freckles is splashed across it. “Maybe Turbo is best for him, then.”
I shrug happily and nod. “Yeah, and that little Chihuahua is one cool canine, so let’s hope it works out.”
She holds up her palm and high fives me then Nick. “Thanks again, guys. See you on Friday?”
“We’ll be here,” I say, then point to her iPhone. It’s plugged into a base behind her, and is playing a cool tune. “Love that band. Heard them for the first time the other week.”
“Me, too,” she says, her hazel eyes blazing with excitement. “I love finding new music.”
Nick clears his throat and jumps in, “Hey Penny, did you know Wyatt can howl?”
Penny raises an eyebrow. “You don’t say?”
“He’s a man of many talents. He can build you a house, he can cook a killer omelet, he can track down awesome new tunes, and he can bark at the moon. He’s also free on Friday night if you—”
And my hand darts out to cover Nick’s mouth. “I was free on Friday. But I just booked a job for Friday night.”
Penny laughs at our antics. “Thanks for walking the dogs, guys.”
When we leave, Nick tips his forehead toward the rescue. “What’s the deal? You’ve been hot for Penny for months. And you don’t ask her out? I was fluffing her for you.”
I shrug. “Just got stuff going on.”
“You mean you turned celibate?”
I snort. “Not celibate. I assure you.”
Nick stares at me for several long seconds. He squints as if he’s thinking hard about something, then raises an eyebrow. “Did something happen in Vegas?”
I stop short on the sidewalk. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“You’ve been acting different since then.”
“No idea what you’re talking about,” I say, even though inside I’m wondering how the hell my brother became so fucking observant.
“Seems a few months ago you’d have happily jumped at the chance to chat up Penny.
She’s perfect for you. So all I can figure is something went down in Vegas with Natalie, and that’s why you’re not pursuing things with Penny.
” Nick gets in my face and stares at me with big bug eyes. “Who’s giving good advice now?”
I shove his chest lightly. “What was the advice in that? Sounded more like an observation, and not even an accurate one.” It’s not that I don’t trust my brother and not that I don’t want to get into it with him.
The big issue is I haven’t got a clue what to do about Natalie, and I’m not ready to start blabbing about our little fucked-up union to everyone. That’s not fair to her. “And on that note, I’ve got somewhere to be.”
I’m meeting Natalie soon.
As I catch the subway to head downtown, I half wish I had asked out Penny. Mostly, though, I wish I wanted to. I wish I wanted to ask anyone else on a date half as much as I want to grab a coffee with a woman who’s on her way to becoming my ex-wife.