I turn back to Cutter, lips peeling away from my teeth as I cringe. “Geez, you weren’t kidding. Those two look vicious.”
“They’re better than they used to be. At least they’re attacking a toy instead of another dog. Or a child. Or an old lady who made the mistake of wearing a skirt long enough for them to get their teeth into the hem.”
“Yikes.” I frown. “Not to talk smack about your lady, but bringing violent dogs to the park is kind of a dick move.”
“She doesn’t do it on purpose,” Cutter says. “She’s oblivious to their bad side. But I can’t really complain about that flaw in her personality. If Megan didn’t overlook bad sides, we never would have lasted as long as we did. I was still kind of an asshole when we were a thing.” Cutter takes another sip of the latte. “Damn, this is good. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” I collect the ball Thermos has dropped at my feet and toss it across the grass, laughing as he and the other pug race after it, their pudgy legs churning. “God, they’re so cute. I want a pug.”
“You should get one. You’d be a good dog parent.”
My lips turn down as I cross my arms over my chest. “No, I wouldn’t. I’m gone all the time. The dog would be alone in my crappy little apartment, and that wouldn’t be fair.”
“Why do you have a crappy little apartment? You got a raise along with the promotion, right?” Cutter hands the latte back, his fingers brushing mine in a way that makes the stupid tingling beneath my skin even worse.
Warning my libido to get a grip, I say, “Yeah, but I haven’t had time to move. And I want to keep padding my savings in case I need more capital to get the restaurant started than I think. I have a loan lined up, but I don’t want to borrow more than I have to.”
“You should move into one of my condos,” he says, fetching the ball and tossing it again. “I’m keeping the top floor open for renters and selling the rest.”
I snort. “Like I could afford that.”
“I’d give you the place next to mine for half price. It would be worth it to know my neighbor is going to be a hot honey instead of an obnoxious asshole.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t,” I demure, though I enjoy being called a hot honey more than I should.
“Sure you could. Seriously, I’d love a neighbor who’s gone almost every night.” He winks. “I’d be able to have wild parties without anyone getting pissed. And you’d be able to live where you work, reducing your commute so you’ll have more time for belching the alphabet and other things you enjoy doing in your spare time.”
Cheeks going hot, I bump his hip with mine. “Oh, give me a break. You can’t make fun of me for that. It was forever ago. I was fourteen years old.”
“I’m not making fun.” He loops an arm around my waist and draws me close. “I was impressed with your mad burping skills.”
“That was the first time Bridget and I tried beer. We didn’t realize how silly it would make us.”
“And what about now?” he murmurs. “What makes you silly these days?”
I meet his gaze as my arms go around his neck, a dangerously warm ache spreading through me. “Riding my bike. It always makes me feel like a kid.”
He hums beneath his breath. “I only like riding bikes in Paris.”
I smile. “Only a spoiled brat rock star would say something like that.”
“You have to admit, Paris is the best city ever.”
“Wouldn’t know. I’ve never been.”
He grunts. “What? No fucking way. But the food… The food is incredible, and I don’t even like food. At least not as much as I like other things I put in my mouth.”
Refusing to think about the parts of me that have been in his mouth—that oh, so talented mouth—I shrug. “Yeah, I’ve heard Paris is amazing. I hope to get there someday.”
“Someday,” he echoes, sounding scandalized. “You need a plane ticket, ASAP. A chef who hasn’t been to Paris is like a woman with a gator down her pants who’s never been to Florida.”
“You’re so weird.” I laugh.
“That’s a true story. She was arrested for driving with gator.”
“Wow. Florida. I wonder if they have a police code for that.” I pull away to pick up the ball Thermos has once again left at my feet, but Cutter plucks it from my fingers before I can throw it.
“We’re coming back to this subject later,” he says, “but we should make our move now before Megan heads out. I’ll throw the ball and chase after the pugs, accidentally running into Megan in the process. Then you can come over and rescue Thermos and his friend from the wieners, leaving Megan and me to chat. If all goes well, I might take her to coffee. I’ll tell her you have to go to work. Sound good?”
I bite my lip. “Sure, I can take Thermos back to Zack’s on my way home, but I—”
“Actually, could you drop him off at my dad’s place? The front door is always open, and my dad won’t be home. He’s working the late shift today, so you won’t have to confront your fear of old men who have seen you naked.”
I shudder, and my cheeks go hot. “Oh God, don’t remind me. Yes, I can drop him at your place, but…do I have to be the wiener warrior on this mission? They look mean.”
“No, you don’t have to the wiener warrior,” he reassures me. “I’ll hold them off. You just grab the pugs and bring them back over here. They’ll probably come on their own as soon as I drag the little monsters away.”
I nod, exhaling as I wipe my suddenly sweaty palms on my fleece jacket. “Okay, but promise me Thermos isn’t going to get hurt. If anything happens to Gram’s dog, Zack will kill us. Therm is her baby.”
“I know,” Cutter says, his voice tight. “Don’t worry, we won’t do anything to upset Zach. I know he’s your favorite.”
I glance up at him, but before I can tell if he’s joking or actually upset not to be my favorite boy in the band, he lobs the ball toward the far corner of the park.
Proving his muscles aren’t just for show, it soars into the air, lingering silhouetted against the sky before plummeting back to the grass a few feet from the feral dachshunds. Instantly, the dogs abandon their toy and pounce on the ball, savaging it like chum tossed into a shark tank.
My heart in my throat, I watch as innocent, unsuspecting Thermos and his little pal scamper across the grass, bound for a head-on collision with Edgar and Allen.
Cutter takes off at a trot. Tossing the half-full latte in the trash, I jog after him. I want to be unencumbered in case defending Thermos from the Snappy Twins becomes a two-handed job.
Cutter and I are still a dozen yards away when Thermos and his friend skid to a stop a few feet from the smaller dogs, seeming to sense that taking their ball back from Thing One and Thing Two could cause trouble. Unfortunately for the sweet pugs, the little bullies don’t need an excuse to get physical.
The dachshunds glance up, spotting strangers on their turf. An instant later, they’re all over Thermos, jumping and yapping hysterically. With their tiny front legs churning, they look like miniature T. rexes, clearly pissed off that their arms are too short to allow them to scratch and bite their prey at the same time.
Hopping on their hind legs after a retreating Thermos, they look absolutely ridiculous. The scene would be funny if the wieners weren’t doing their best to shred the poor pug like a roll of toilet paper.
“Edgar! Allen! Stop that right now!” Megan calls out, rushing toward the scuffle just as Cutter arrives and plucks Thermos from the fray.
I check that the other pug is running for cover by the trees on the far side of the park, presumably headed back to his or her owner for comfort.
“Oh my God, Cutter! Theo! I’m so sorry!” Megan runs a frazzled hand over her hair before bending down to put her arms around her demon pups, pulling them away before they can savage Cutter’s ankles. “I don’t know what’s gotten into them today. They’re usually so good at the park.”
Yeah, right, lady. In denial much? But I force a smile as I insist, “I
t’s fine. No worries at all. Here, let me take Thermos.” I snatch the ball from the ground and collect the trembling pug from Cutter. “I’ll catch you later, babe,” I say, nodding back toward the other side of the run. “Probably best if we keep these guys separated. I’ll play with Thermos a little more and then drop him at your place before work.”
“Okay, thanks. See you later, sweet thing,” Cutter says, the endearment rolling easily off his tongue as he squeezes my arm with an affection that makes me go all gooey in the center.
As I turn and hurry away from the dachshunds—who are still snarling as they fight to break free from their mom’s murder-thwarting hands—I remind myself that this is all bullshit. Cutter and I only recently became friends. He doesn’t really care about me, at least not the way a tender touch like that might imply.
And I don’t care about him either.
Not in a smooshy-hearted way.
But as I comfort the shaken Thermos and eventually coax him back into another round of fetch, I can’t stop sneaking glances at Cutter and Megan, torn between being glad that the woman he loves is gazing up at him with a smile on her face and a sharp tug of uglier emotion somewhere between my throat and lungs.
I’m not jealous. I can’t be jealous. Being jealous of Megan, the woman I agreed to help Cutter win back with this stupid game of pretend, would be full-blown crazy. And I like to keep my crazy on the cute, manageable side.
I have to pull my shit together.
Or call this off before it’s too late. Before I start confusing fantasy for reality and do myself serious damage. “Come on, Therm, let’s get you back to Cutter’s.” I click on his leash and lead him back toward the gate. But as we leave, I can’t help taking one last look over my shoulder.
My reward for this moment of weakness is a glimpse of Cutter hugging Megan tenderly before they turn and exit the park together through the gates on the opposite side of the run.
He’s leaving with her.
They’re going to get coffee and reconnect, just like he hoped.
I should be happy for him. I’m getting what I want; he’s getting what he wants—it’s all good.
But it doesn’t feel good. And when I spot a man in a black trench coat—noticeably somber for the spring day—trailing Megan and Cutter out of the park, my already aching stomach begins to churn.
It almost looks like the guy is following them. He’s keeping his distance, but his focus seems fixed with a weird intensity on the golden-haired couple.
“They’re just so beautiful together,” I tell Thermos, who has flopped down in the dust by the gate for a post-park roll. “That’s probably all it is.”
A beat later, the gorgeous duo disappears around the corner. Not long after, the man in the trench coat vanishes, too. I reach for my cell to text Cutter and warn him that there might be a creep tailing him but then release the phone before I pull it from my pocket.
I don’t want to interrupt his time with Megan, and it’s probably nothing. And even if Trench Coat is planning to mug Cutter and Megan in the middle of the afternoon in a busy part of town—highly unlikely—Cutter can handle himself. He’s got several inches and a heaping helping of muscle on the smaller, slimmer man. He’ll be fine.
And I will be, too.
As soon as Cutter leaves town, visions of golden-haired rock gods will stop dancing through my dreams, and I’ll get my head out of the clouds.
“But the clouds are so pretty,” I murmur to Thermos, who agrees with a snort-snuffle of sympathy for my angst.
The clouds are pretty.
But they’re only breezing through and will be gone before I know it.
Chapter Eleven
From the texts of Theodora Devi
and Colette Blanchett
Two days later…
Theodora: Remind me of Cutter’s bad traits, please? At your earliest convenience?
Colette: Why? Are you in the mood to get pissed off at your boyfriend?
Theodora: Yes. At least a little pissed. Pissed enough to remember why it’s not a good idea to get in too deep with him. Dating and having fun are good. Anything more would be a mistake.
Colette: Aw! Are you falling in love, my precious?
Theodora: NO! I’m not falling in love. I’m falling into…deeper like. But even deeper like isn’t wise. Cutter and I aren’t a good long-term fit. Not to mention how he’s leaving soon and will be gone all summer.
Colette: Long distance is hard, but if you care enough about each other, you can make it work. Fernando and I did until his visa came through. And having money at your disposal helps. Cutter can afford a lot of plane flights, and you don’t do too badly for yourself either, lady. You should take some of that hard-won chef money and buy yourself a ticket to see your man play in Prague. I love Prague!
Theodora: I can’t take off work. At least, not anytime soon.
Colette: You can’t afford NOT to take time off work, you mean. You haven’t had two days off in a row for over a year, woman.
Theodora: I have! I took off Friday night through Sunday for the wedding.
Colette: That doesn’t count. You were in the kitchen all morning making breakfast on Saturday. And it’s called a weekend. Most people enjoy them regularly. It’s something we humans need to recover from the stress of doing our jobs the rest of the week.
Theodora: I know. I hear you, and I promise I’ll try to find time to rest, but first I need dirt. Cutter dirt. Stat. Remind why I hated him when we were kids.
Colette: Because he was a gorgeous older boy who didn’t know you existed?
Theodora: No, I hated him because he knew I existed and deliberately ignored me. And he was mean. And condescending. And he called me a bitch that one time.
Colette: There you go, you reminded yourself. I didn’t have to do any work at all.
Theodora: But the past isn’t enough anymore, Colette. Even telling myself that Cutter’s a man whore and an unrepentant bad-boy rock star who is probably never going to straighten up and stop getting thrown in jail a couple of times a year isn’t working. Not when he’s being so cool and generous. We toured the new restaurant space yesterday before we signed the lease, and he insisted on giving me the first six months free. And now he wants to cut me a deal on a condo.
Colette: What an asshole. You should kick him in his generous balls. That’ll teach him to be nice to you.
Theodora: I know, right? I accepted the six months free on the restaurant since I’m going to be doing all the renovation and sparing him the hassle. But I told him there’s no way in hell I’ll accept a lease on a luxury apartment at half the usual rent. He’d lose money, I’d feel guilty, and I know it would cause friction between us down the line.
Colette: Aw, but that’s awesome! He wants you close to him when he’s in town! That sounds like it would cause GOOD friction to me. *winking face emoji* And he’s a grown man who makes millions of dollars every year,
Theodora. If he wants to give a friend a break on her rent, I say let the man go on with his sweet self.
Theodora: Speaking of sweet…he brought me a milkshake during my break at work last night. Just because on the phone a couple of days ago I told him I was craving a milkshake from Danny’s Drive-In, but how I was always at work when they’re open.
Colette: Wow. He’s really listening, isn’t he?
Theodora: Yeah. He is.
Colette: Well, that settles it. He’s got it bad for you, girl.
Theodora: No, he doesn’t. He’s just bored because Shep is gone on his honeymoon, and Colin is always with Kirby, and Zack is busy with volunteer work and helping his grandparents.
Colette: About Zack...
Theodora: Yes? What about him?
Colette: The other day at the wedding breakfast, he spent a lot of time glaring at Cutter and shooting worried glances your way. He knows, doesn’t he?
Theodora: Yeah. Cutter spilled the beans before I could tell him I still wanted to keep things quiet with our friends for
a while. But Bridget hasn’t called from her honeymoon to yell at me for being a crazy person, and Kirby hasn’t tried to stage an intervention, so he must have kept the news to himself.
Colette: Well, I certainly have. And I don’t think there’s any need to intervene in a grown woman’s love life, especially not one as smart as you. But Zach’s behavior did make me wonder if maybe he might have feelings. More-than-friends feelings. For you.
Theodora: What?! No way. Zack and I are close, but not like that. We’ve always been just friends.
Colette: Not always. Didn’t you have a crush on him when you were in ninth grade? Maybe he felt the same way at some point. Like…now, for example.
Theodora: I was fourteen, and it was puppy love, nothing real. And Zack’s always treated me like a little sister. He’s probably just worried that I’m going to fall for a guy who’s incapable of being monogamous and get hurt.
Colette: Do you think that’s true? That Cutter’s incapable of monogamy?
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