Chapter 19
nineteen
WESTON
MARCH 17
Last spring when Cade told us he was going to marry Holly, we all gave him a ton of grief.
“There’s no way you could know already!”
“That’s infatuation, not love.”
“You’re crazy!”
I admit, we weren’t very nice to him.
And being the Prince Charming that he is, he took it from all of us with a smile. Then married her and made us all look like jerks.
In my defense, I didn’t know they’d known each other before or what love actually looked like. But the idea that he could’ve known almost as soon as they reconnected, blew my mind.
“People need time to know if they can spend the rest of their life with someone, don’t they?” I asked him. “That’s not something you can figure out in a week.”
Cade just smiled at me, patted my shoulder and said, “When you know, you know.”
He’s right.
It’s hard to concentrate as we walk around the last day of the festival, because we haven’t talked about what comes next. There’s no plans.
As much as I enjoy experiencing life as it comes—save my ACL tear—I’m hating the idea of not seeing Bridget after tomorrow. In a short time, she’s become a routine.
She’s home.
I’ve actually been really mean to people about how stupid I think instalove is, and how unbelievable it is. It actually kept me up late last night because I’m struggling to accept that I feel the way I do about Bridget. But there are scores of people telling similar stories on the internet about how quickly they fell in love with someone, and some of them have been married for decades.
Longer than most football careers.
I’m not the only one who’s smitten. I caught Bailey sleeping at the foot of her bed when I panicked looking for him last night. Poor guy is in love, too.
In a couple of hours there’s a dog parade, so we’re hunting for something to dress Bailey in since I was a bad dog dad and didn’t know. Maybe there’s something to be said for paying attention to a schedule.
At least a little.
“Hey, look at that,” Bridget says, pointing toward an area set up by the fountain. “It looks like there might be dog stuff over there.”
Too late, the sign that was partially obstructed comes into view: ‘Lucky in Love: Adopt a Pet and Find Your Four-Leaf (Legged) Forever Friend’.
“Hey Bridget!” I call after her, tugging on Bailey’s leash to distract him from a pile of grass he’s fascinated by.
There’s wire fences filled with animals. Cute, fuzzy puppies that yip happily at the attention. Bailey flip flops his head at each new sound almost comically.
I scan the area, then notice her over by a literal furball. It reminds me of Bailey when he was younger.
“Can I hold her? Am I allowed to do that?” she asks, crouched down by the fence.
I lower myself to the ground so I can sit beside her, since squatting still isn’t very comfortable. “What are you doing, Spitfire?”
The attendant hands her the puppy, who enthusiastically licks Bridget everywhere. She’s wriggly and lets out excited whines that could cause even the biggest guy to cave. It’s me. I’m that guy.
Bridget is no better as she croons to the puppy. Someone should bottle up this happiness and market it because I think it’s capable of powering a whole town.
“She’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen,” she squeals.
“But they grow up to be big. Like this guy.” I pat Bailey, who’s using every ounce of his restraint to not join in the antics.
“He’s a good boy though.”
Bailey woofs in agreement and looks to me for permission to move.
“No. Stay,” I say, shaking my head.
If he were a cat, I’d have a present in my shoe later. But I’ll definitely be getting side eye for a while. I’m keeping him from his new favorite person, and a potential playmate.
“You know how you said that maybe I should live a little?”
The puppy is calmer now and has settled herself against Bridget, laying her head on her shoulder like a baby. She’s not walking out of here without that dog.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “I remember.”
“We weren’t allowed to have pets, growing up. I always wanted one. We all did.”
The information we’ve revealed to each other so far is like the kiddie pool. A week isn’t much time to get to know someone, though my heart feels like it’s known her much longer. But every time she tells me something like that, I add another reason to be grateful for my family. And my heart breaks a little for hers.
I’m honored I get to be part of her healing.
“Cats are pretty low maintenance,” I suggest. “No walks, no throwing the ball, no four a.m. bathroom breaks.”
“It’s funny you mention that. She said they have a black kitten over in the cat area?—”
I groan. “You know how I feel about black cats, Bridget.”
Her mouth turns up in a smile. “That’s why I suggested it.”
“You enjoy torturing me, don’t you?”
“I think that’s sort of our thing.” She pauses and rests her cheek against the puppy’s head.
My mind flashes back to Bailey as a pup, the way I knew he was mine from the moment he looked into my eyes.
I swallow the lump in my throat, the one that’s formed because we haven’t discussed what comes next. But we need to.
“Will you fly her back to Colorado?”
Bridget raises her head. “Why would I do that?”
“That’s where you live, isn’t it?”
“Doesn’t have to be,” she says, rubbing under the puppy’s chin. “We could try a rental here. Maybe just see where the road takes us.”
Finally, I can’t take it anymore, so I reach out and scrub the puppy’s head, relishing in the softness of her fur. It never lasts.
“What would you name her?”
“I’m not sure yet.” Her voice is low, soothing. “I always wanted a Lady.”
“She’s not a cocker spaniel, but her coloring works.”
She giggles. “Yes, it does. Maybe Willow?”
“I personally think that’s more fitting—but she’ll give you an idea pretty quickly of what fits.”
Bridget would do great with a dog or a cat. Goats even love her. But that golden retriever puppy curled up against her chest is exactly the dog I’d pick for her, if I could. I’m biased because of Bailey, but they’re great dogs. Loyal, protective. Giant teddy bears.
She’ll experience unconditional love. It’s healing.
“You’re not making a dig at the Taylor Swift reference or trying to talk me out of getting this dog.”
I chuckle. “I love that there’s a Taylor Swift era for every one of your moods, so why would I make a dig?”
The second her eyes lift to mine I realize what I said.
It wasn’t a formal ‘I love you’ but it was close enough. Not exactly how I planned on that going.
“Did you just casually drop the L-word at a St. Patrick’s Day adoption event?” she asks, her eyes glassy.
“It depends. Would that be a seriously uncool thing to do?” I grimace.
She inchworms over to me carefully, trying to not wake the puppy, then leans forward and kisses me. “No,” she whispers. “I appreciate the authenticity. And I maybe feel the same way.”
“Maybe?” I raise an eyebrow.
She snorts, then ducks her head to cover the puppy’s ears. “Don’t make me laugh and wake her up.”
I went all in earlier in the week, so I might as well go all in now.
“I love you, Bridget Mitchell.”
She gasps and a lone tear travels down her cheek. Bailey whines so I jerk my head toward Bridget so he can comfort her and she laughs as he licks her.
I’m calling Cade when we get back to the house and groveling with a serious apology. The fact that I already love someone so much and that love will grow even more is mind boggling. I don’t know how I’ll have room for it.
“I love you too,” she breathes out.
“There’s probably things about me you’re not going to like?—”
“You forget that’s where I started. And I ended up here, anyway. We’ll figure it out as we go.”
It’s the best idea I’ve ever heard.
“Then let’s figure it out as we go. But why don’t we get this girl adopted first? Looks like we’ll have two dogs in the parade today.”
“I’m adopting a dog,” she says, beaming like she won the lottery.
I think she’s found something she’d save in a fire.
I grin. “Well hurry up. Bailey is ready for a playmate.”
She stands, then heads over to the volunteer that was helping her. If I’m quick, then I can find what I’m looking for and make it back by the time she’s done.
Our lives seemed to be intertwined even before we ate the Faerie Tart, and I’m ready to double down and make it official.