Chapter 11 #2
“That’s a good boy,” I murmur, allowing myself to look once more, then correct myself with a half-smile, “or girl.”
The little dog glances up at me, but only for a second before deciding it’s safe to return its focus to the granola, which it swallows down in just three bites.
Lowering from my knees to a seated position on the asphalt, I resign myself to a long afternoon.
I’m not leaving this poor thing here.
Done with its snack, the little dog studies me, then sits too, allowing me to see, at the angle, that it’s a boy.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say to him, then immediately feel silly. But the dog tilts his head, and his floppy ears twitch in what I know to be a sign of curiosity. So I continue. “My name’s Riley, and if you give me a chance, I can hook you up with some more food. Water too. I bet you’re thirsty.”
I know he doesn’t understand me, but he adjusts his position, relaxing a little more, and I know I’m making some progress here.
Thankfully, it’s early enough in the day that nobody comes out with any garbage, and the activity in the parking lot is contained to a couple of cars on the far side.
I continue to speak softly to the little guy, mostly nonsense, but …
it works. It’s an hour before he approaches me again, and another until he lets me pet him, but he does.
I tell him about last night and about Steph, finally allowing my mind to drift back to the moment when our lips had met.
I’d stayed up most of the night reliving it, of course, analyzing every touch, every word.
But this morning I’d forced myself to focus on my meeting with Bobby.
Now, I’m free to continue dwelling on the memory.
I pick apart the kiss, the moment Steph had relented.
When her eyes had softened, and she’d melted into me.
It had been everything I’d dreamed of.
But then I’d pulled away. I’d stopped it.
And I’m a fuckin’ idiot for having done it, for having denied her the release she’d so badly wanted, but it was in that moment, when I’d felt her body tighten, that my mind had finally caught up with what we were doing.
What I’d done. It wasn't cool, the way I’d essentially chased her down and cornered her.
I’d pushed—too much. She was off guard, and I’d taken advantage.
So … I’d halted the kiss. I knew it wasn’t right, even if touching her again had felt more right than anything else had in seventeen years.
“Something else was off, too,” I say to the little dog.
“Something in her eyes …” I trail off, remembering the flash I’d seen right before I’d kissed her.
It had been fleeting, I’d only glimpsed it for the briefest of moments, and once our lips had met, once I felt her soft body molding to mine, the thought had gone flying off into the ether.
Now, though, in hindsight, it has my gut clenching.
Because it had almost looked like fear.
But … that can’t be right, can it? I mean, anger, sure.
I’d expect that and deserve it. Anxiety?
Okay. Also, understandable given the time we’ve spent apart.
Even the deep-seated pain and sadness I’d glimpsed at the wedding would make sense because now I know how much she’s struggled in recent years.
But … fear?
There’s no reason she should be afraid of me, and I’m not sure what to make of it.
I sigh.
Maybe I just need to accept that I can’t read her the way I used to anymore. A lot of time has passed. It was probably just nerves.
I sigh once more, rubbing my eyes.
I’m obviously not going to find all the answers sitting here.
But sit, I do. We remain there together by that smelly dumpster for a good three hours, the little dog listening patiently as I continue to debate my chances with Steph.
I tell him about how the night had ended.
How I’d seen her lips move around the word, how it had stung worse than her hand had against my cheek.
Hate.
She’d said ‘I hate you’ before slipping away into the crowd. I’d stood there, pinned to the spot by her harsh words, for a long moment, before shoving the rear exit door open and prowling across the lot, a pained, frustrated growl drifting up into the night sky behind me.
By the time I’d made it to my truck, though, I was smiling. Sure, things hadn’t gone according to plan. They certainly hadn’t ended on a very good note, but, bottom line?
She’d kissed me back.
She’d ground her sweet pussy against me until I’d felt the dampness through my jeans.
Her body still responded to mine, whether she liked it or not. And that strengthened my resolve. It meant I had a chance.
The little dog seems to agree with me. So when I finally do leave the back lot of Aroma’s, I do it with a scruffy new black and white sidekick.
And … with hope.
“Why Connor?” My mom asks a few days later as she smiles down at the small dog begging by her feet.
She hadn’t been thrilled when I’d shown up with the filthy little ball tucked under my arm like a basketball.
He’d snarled and snapped at me while I’d attempted to bathe him, then proceeded to bark at everything that moved while I’d given him a tour of the backyard—I’m not kidding, even bugs were not exempt from his wrath.
Later that night, the poor little guy had cowered in the corner of my bedroom with his ears pressed back against his head.
His whining had kept us both up. Somehow, though, in the days that followed, and despite first impressions, the little guy had won my mom over.
He was still snarly at times, but he’d mellowed. A bit.
I’d actually come home from my first shift shadowing Bobby yesterday to find the pair of them snuggled up together on the couch, and the day before that, my mom had returned from the store with two bags worth of toys and treats.
Not that he’d needed any more. I’d done a full shop that first afternoon I’d brought him home—as any good dog dad would.
And, after a quick trip to the vet and a call from my mom to Chief Hudson, who also oversees the town animal control office, that was that. He was mine. Well, ours, apparently.
“I knew a guy in upstate New York named Connor,” I answer with a grin and a shrug. “He was small and snarly, too.”
She chuckles, looking down at the little dog again. He’s staring up at her with those wide, hopeful puppy dog eyes that even the rough and tumble stray seems to have quickly mastered. His tail wags furiously in anticipation, causing his entire body to sway from side to side.
“You already had your dinner, mister,” she says, shaking her head and waving a finger in his direction.
Connor just licks his lips.
Her mouth twists to the side as though she’s debating it as she continues to stare down at him, but we all know she’s going to give in. And she does.
“Okay, fine,” she says with an exaggerated sigh, tossing him a handful of French fries from her plate.
“Mom,” I chastise, but it’s teasing. “He’s never going to stop begging if you feed him from the table.”
“What do you want from me, Riley?” she asks, gesturing in his direction. The fries have already vanished, I note with amusement. “Just look at him! How could I say no?”
My shoulders shake with a silent laugh. “Yeah. I guess you can’t,” I concede.
“You did this. You brought this little monkey into our lives.”
“I did. And it sure didn’t take him long to wrap you around his finger, did it?”
She rolls her eyes and shoots me a wry smile, then shrugs. “Gotta take care of my boys.”
Hmm.
“Speaking of your boys …” I start, taking the opening she’s provided.
Her smile falls. She knows I’m about to bring up my brother, whom I’d walked in on arguing with her yesterday.
He’d shot me a glare and stormed out without a word, slamming the door on his way and causing her to flinch.
Luckily, Connor had been in the backyard following our walk, or my brother just might have lost an ankle.
My mom sighs. She’d remained tight-lipped about the encounter, but I knew it was about me.
“I’m at a loss as to how to deal with Aidan,” I continue.
I understand he’s bitter and feels as though I abandoned him, and I’ve been trying to give it time—give him time—to get used to the idea that I’m back to stay.
But the open hostility he displays has been plaguing me.
“I just— I need some guidance, Mom. I’m willing to put in the work to regain his trust, but …
where do I start when he’ll barely even look at me? ”
She sighs again, twisting her mouth in thought before tentatively saying, “His wife.”
I raise my eyebrows, and she stares at me for a long moment before giving a decisive nod, as though confirming the idea to herself. “Yeah,” she says. “I’d start with Piper.”
“Piper,” I repeat.
“Mm-hmm,” she chuckles, then shrugs. “I’ve tried talking to him about you but he won't hear it. Piper, though? He can’t say no to her. And she’s a big softie, so if you can get her on your side, she’ll put in a good word for you.”
I rub my chin thoughtfully, playing with the scruff of my beard.
“And she works at the library, right?”
Another nod.
“With Steph.”
“Yeees,” my mother says slowly. “But remember what I said about Steph … you need to tread carefully there too, Riles.”
Too late.
But I nod, allowing a slow smile to creep across my face. I’ve been dying for an excuse to see her again, and it seems I just might be able to kill two birds with one stone.