“Can you sit up?” Jake asked.
“I think so,” Charlie said. Now that her breath was back, she was totally fine. However, no need to spring up too quickly, as it was nice to have Jake so close again. Even though she knew it was probably best for them to keep their distance.
Charlie sat up and Jake kept a firm hand behind her back, murmuring, “Easy does it.” Bonnie strained to get closer to Charlie, but Jake gave her a short, stern, “Stay,” and she whined but sat back down.
“Don’t you worry about it, Bonnie. No damage done.” Charlie ran a hand over her head, feeling little icy clumps of snow that had balled into the strands of her hair. “This is getting embarrassing. How many times can I fall down or wipe out in your presence?”
“I’m the one who should be embarrassed. Of my goofball dog. Here, let me help you with that.” He took a glove off, gently removing some of the snow from her hair. Then he picked her hat up and, after shaking off the snow, put it back on her head, his hands lingering for a moment on the sides of her face before he tugged the hat down. Sitting back on his heels, he asked, “All good?”
She almost felt she couldn’t talk, but it had nothing to do with being winded. “Just a bit out of breath, but that might have more to do with the hiking than the Bonnie slam.”
Jake chuckled, then sighed as he looked over at Bonnie. “I’m so sorry, Cass. I let her off leash up here because it’s usually quiet this time of day, but . . .” His voice trailed, a hint of concern still on his face. “You really went down like a ton of bricks.”
“I’m not sure how to take that,” she said, laughing. She went to stand and Jake quickly stood as well, holding her firmly by her hands until he was sure she was steady. They both glanced at Bonnie now, who was making a ruckus as she rolled in the snow on her back, the leash getting tangled. Charlie went over and unwound the leash, then rubbed Bonnie’s belly. “You’re a good girl, Bonnie. I forgive you.”
“Let’s not get carried away,” Jake said. “Just before we left this morning she ate six bagels off the counter.”
“Oh, Bonnie! A girl after my own carb-loving heart.” Charlie and Jake exchanged a smile. But then everything that had happened two nights ago at the bakery surfaced in Charlie’s mind—the kiss, Brett showing up, the photos of Jake’s ex, the custody situation. The cold seeped back in, and she shivered.
“Well, I guess I should keep going,” Charlie said, handing Bonnie’s leash to Jake. She rubbed her arms a few times to expel the chill. “I need to get back to the bakery before opening.” She looked up the trail, wanting to escape the suddenly awkward moment but also wishing she had a reason not to.
“Right. Of course.” Jake cleared his throat, now looking everywhere but at Charlie. She wondered what he was thinking, if he was going over that night in his mind like she was. Remembering how their bodies molded together perfectly, like they were made for each other. A warm flush crept up her neck and into her face; she was glad her cheeks were already rosy from the cold.
“Okay, well. Take care.” Jake smiled, but now it seemed forced.
“I will. Thanks. Same to you.” Charlie nearly groaned at her formality. She longed to press herself against him, to feel his arms around her again, to . . .
“Cass? All good?” Jake ducked his head, looking into her eyes.
“Yes! I’m good,” she said as brightly as she could. “Enjoy your hike.” She gave a quick wave and then started up the trail but only took a few steps before it was clear they both had planned the same route; she and Jake practically banged into each other.
“Oh, sorry,” Jake said. “We’ll go this way.” He pointed to the more meandering trail, tugging Bonnie to follow him, even though the dog clearly wanted to go the other way.
“No, you go ahead. I’ll, uh, go this way.” Charlie went to step around Bonnie and Jake, but then he moved at the same time and they were suddenly in front of each other again. Close enough that Charlie could see the snowflakes landing on Jake’s amber eyelashes. Her legs quivered, which she told herself was because of the wind’s chill.
Jake laughed. “Since we can’t seem to stop running into each other, how about some company? We may hold you back, though. Bonnie is more into the, ah, experience of the hike versus the exercise.” They both watched the dog as she ran back and forth in front of them, stopping to sniff at the base of a tree or eat a mouthful of snow or bark at a squirrel.