“Well, good to know some things never change, at least.” He smiled.
“Hubris. Lovely.”
“You’ve never cared what people think. It’s one of the things I admire about you.”
On the spot, she decided that she better start carrying a small posy of white and lavender heather to keep her on the safe side of sunset. Because it was statements like those, the ones that led back to dusty memories, that reminded her just how well he knew her. Better than anyone aside from Seth.
Instead of answering, she gave him a knife and pointed to a pile of onions for him to chop.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a smile.
They worked in soft silence, moving around each other like water, practiced and smooth. When his arm brushed against hers as they worked, her skin reacted by breaking out in goose bumps. And when she went to get the butter from the fridge, it was already melted in its container.
A scratching noise came from upstairs.
“Gigi still taking in strays?” Jake guessed.
“Um, yeah.” Her laugh sounded manic even to her own ears as her eyes refused to meet his.
“You know, one of the things I was really happy about moving here was that I could finally get a dog. Got the dopiest chocolate lab puppy, but the dumb guy ran off while I was looking at the house.”
“Oh, really? That—well, how unfortunate,” she said with wide, innocent eyes, even though her chest filled with something that felt terribly like guilt. “Maybe you should have put your number on his collar. Like a responsible adult.”
“The machine at the pet store was broken. I ordered one and had it shipped to the motel, Miss Bossy Pants.”
“Oh,” Sadie said, and her face fell. Damn him.
Bambi whimpered and barked, and Jake narrowed his eyes at the sound, recognition coloring his features.
“I’m letting Bambi out!” Gigi called before Jake could say anything.
“No!” Sadie shouted, but a few seconds later the lab in question came bounding into the kitchen.
“Chief!” Jake shouted, dropping to the floor as the dog covered him in wet kisses. From the ground Jake looked up at Sadie with pursed lips.
“Did you steal my dog?”
“What! I mean, no! I mean … he just wandered into our garden. He begged me to take him. I tried to get him to leave. I said, ‘Shoo, dog. Be gone!’ But he wouldn’t listen, and … and … yes, I did. I stole him. But I didn’t know!” she blathered, her skin going clammy.
“Sadie, we’re in the country!” Jake huffed in exasperation. “Sound carries. Didn’t you hear me calling him last night?” He stood up, crossing his arms, and Sadie could swear he was trying not to smile.
“It was muffled,” she mumbled, staring at her shoes.
“Sadie Kathryn Revelare. Did you know this was his dog?” Gigi demanded, standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
“I may have considered the possibility, yes.”
Just then the dog in question started barking when there was another knock at the door. Raquel walked in, arms full of fabric, just as the puppy chose that moment to relieve himself, and the timer went off, and the water on the stove boiled over.
This was not part of the routine, and it made her chest tight and a headache pound at her temples.
“Jake, go turn on the barbecue, please,” Gigi said, commandeering the situation at once. “Sadie, take the puppy out back to finish his business, and then grab some basil from the garden for me, sugar. And Raquel, honey, get me some towels so I can clean this mess up.”
Everyone scattered to their respective duties. Sadie, head bowed, followed Jake and Bambi outside.
“I can’t believe you stole my dog,” Jake said, his voice hinting at suppressed laughter. “I mean, seriously? Dognapping? Go on, boy,” he added to the puppy, ushering him past the lavender.
“It was an accident,” Sadie said, kneeling in the dirt and carefully plucking basil leaves.
“Sure, it was,” he said, laughing full out this time. Sadie let the sound fill her. She didn’t have to let him in, but she could appreciate the way that sound made her stomach dip.
“I would’ve given him back. I just wanted to make sure you were worthy first. Caring for a dog is a lot of work.” Sadie heard the click and light of the barbecue from the back patio and jumped.
“Well, aren’t you Miss High and Mighty,” he said, leaning against a post. “I may not be great at commitment, but at least I don’t freak out at the tiniest bit of disorder in my perfectly fabricated life.”