“Options. I could call him.” She still had his number in her phone. “I could stop dreaming about a guy I met when I was still married.” That had worked with limited success so far. “I could wait one more month, and look at my options again.” That would make the divorce final for six months.
With a sigh she realized the third option was probably the best.
Zandra reached the far side of the park and still no sign of Haley. The cool fall morning couldn’t be more perfect for an easy jog. She wouldn’t mind if Haley did show up a half hour late.
A man in a hoodie with the Flint Institute of Music logo on the back was running in front of Zandra. Slow jogging, actually. She was gaining on him and soon caught up. As she passed, she tried to catch a glimpse inside the hood to see if it was someone she recognized. Musicians, especially local, professional musicians were her tribe after all. The hood prevented her from seeing his face.
“A dyslexic Mastiff walks into a church,” said the man.
Zandra didn’t know if he was talking to her or not so she kept running, moving to the outside of the path as far as possible. It might be … no, not here on the walking path. Then again she’d run into him out of the blue at the dog park before.
“He looks around …”
The voice sounded familiar, but what kind of a weirdo told jokes to random people while running? Zandra chanced a quick glance over her shoulder. It was him!
“… says, ‘Oh man, I was looking for the dog house.’”
Zandra pulled to a stop and faced him. “I knew you were lying about the sense of humor!”
Cason smiled as he pulled down his hood and she came forward to give him a hug. It was quick, but powerful. Definitely more than two old friends saying hi. That clean, woodsy smell still surrounded him and Zandra allowed herself to breathe in it as she stepped away.
“Maybe I just memorized that one,” said Cason. “You’ll have to tell me one to see if I get it.”
They started walking side by side. “I only have one dog joke, so it’s all or nothing.”
“Pressure’s on. If it’s not funny it could ruin my sense of humor forever.”
“You liar,” said Zandra shouldering him into the grass. “You are the most anti-pressure, laid back guy in the world. Now stop distracting me.”
“It’s not the ‘man who shot my paw’ joke is it?” When Zandra paused he said, “It was. I don’t even feel bad about ruining it; better that I stopped you in time.”
Zandra smiled. Good things often happened at the dog park, but this was the best she could remember. They hadn’t seen each other since that day at Haley’s. The day she’d let Fiyero go.
Holy cow, was it different now. Back when she was married that attraction that kept her always pushing him away was about as strong as a magnet trying to work through a wooden door. But now the door was open and everything had changed—the way she saw him, the way she felt around him, and her options.
“Options,” she muttered under her breath.
“What’s that?”
“Ah, nothing.” She decided she would let this one play out and if she jumped into something, she seriously doubted it would be something she’d regret. “Hey, if you stick around for a bit Big T will be here.”
“Oh?” said Cason slowly. “Is that right?”
“Wait,” said Zandra, finally picking up on the set up.
“Do you remember our last conversation about whether withholding information from a friend is considered lying?”
That girl. Zandra said, “Now I know why Haley asked me five times if I was coming today.”
“Okay, so we both know Haley is a matchmaker. But I’ve got to come clean about something else. I was half glad when you fired me. It was so hard to not be there for Fiyero, but I was feeling things that it wasn’t appropriate to feel for a married woman.”
Zandra held up her left hand where she didn’t have so much as a tan line from the ring she used to wear. When Cason saw her empty ring finger his smile widened.
Her morning workout had changed into a slow, flirty walk. “We never told you, but that ring was the reason I insisted on firing you. Emmett wanted to keep you around. I kinda suspect he hoped something would happen between us and he’d be justified in what he was doing.”
“Hm,” said Cason.
“What kind of ‘hm’ was that? ‘Hm’ as in you’re surprised? Or, ‘hm’ as in that explains our diabolical motive for firing you without a reason?”
Cason made a scrunched up face and said, “I can’t really tell you without sounding pompous.”
“Secrets!” exclaimed Zandra. “Lies!”
They laughed together and their arms brushed. She’d been trying to sneak a look at his ring finger, but it was hidden. “So you’ve had your hand in your pocket pretty much this whole time. You’re not …?”
Cason kept walking, making a thoughtful face. “That day at the Hutchinson’s, when you got in your car and drove away, I was determined to wait six months, but I didn’t know how long that would end up being.”
“I take it I’m going to get the long answer.” Zandra glanced down at his hand, which was still in the pocket of his hoodie. But if he was attached to someone he wouldn’t be here today, and talking like he was, would he?
After everything she’d been through, nothing would surprise her.
With a smile he answered, “It’ll be worth the wait.” As if to extend the amount of time she had to wait for an actual answer, he took a slow breath. “I knew watching you drive away was the right thing to do, and that the future could bring absolutely anything. I wanted to call you that day, even after you asked for space. Emmett flat out told me the next time he saw you would be when you signed divorce papers. He said you and I would make a good couple. Then he made the starter wife comment and I couldn’t talk to him anymore.”
Those were the details Cason had kept to himself that day. True to what Emmett had said, the only time they saw each other was in the attorney’s office. “Have you talked to him since?”
“No,” said Cason right away. “I, uh, let him know I couldn’t condone that. I may have said a couple choice words, which made him pick a couple choicer words for me. I could see I was going to lose the contest of who knew the choicest words, so I just hung up.”
Zandra smiled a guilty little smile at the thought of this guy she was crushing on so hard defending her against her then-husband. “Wish I could’ve heard that conversation.”
“I don’t lose my cool like that very often,” said Cason.
“To be honest,” said Zandra, “I don’t trust a person who doesn’t let an occasional hot word fly once in a while.”
Cason chuckled.
“You still haven’t answered the question,” said Zandra.
“I’ve waited six months, and four of those months had 31 days. I feel like I at least need to keep the tension up for a couple minutes.”
His restraint simply for propriety’s sake made him even more attractive.
“Don’t you ever worry about anything? You can’t always just sit back and take life as it comes without being scared about what’s around the corner.”
Cason nodded. “I worried plenty that you’d find Mr. Right. Or maybe it was worry that I wasn’t Mr. Right.” He looked sideways at her with a crooked grin on his face. “How’s that for sounding pompous?”
Zandra still couldn’t believe that he felt the same way about her that she felt about him. But still, they couldn’t just move too fast. “So what do you do when you start to worry?”
“It’s pretty trite, really, but it works for me.” Cason looked up into the gorgeous azure sky. “I look up and I say, ‘I walk with You.’” He looked back at Zandra. “That’s it. I walk with Him. It’s not always easy, but it gets me where I should be.”
“It brought you here,” said Zandra.
Cason smiled that effortless smile. He pulled his left hand out of his pocket and showed her a ringless ring finger. “Turns
out he’s a dang good pilot. The last thing I wanted with Karli was for her to cheat on me days before our wedding, but can you imagine how much more I would have suffered if the wedding actually happened?”
“I think I have a pretty good idea of what that would be like.”
“Yeah,” said Cason. “Sorry you had to go through that. For some reason it can’t just be easy, can it?”
Yet, what was happening between them now felt exactly that: easy. How had this day become so perfect? When she’d climbed out of bed she’d been her normal upbeat self, but somehow she’d won the lottery with today. All those hard days of doing what she thought was right had finally started paying dividends.
Go ahead and count your chickens, girl. Life is good.
Zandra tugged on the logo that appeared on the front of his hoodie. “I know how much you love throwaway dogs and throwaway t-shirts. How do you feel about a throwaway girlfriend?”
Cason stepped in front of her and they came to a stop. “Not to sound pompous, but I’m an expert at turning throwaways into keepers.”
A snarling, snapping dog rammed against the chain link mere inches away from them and Zandra launched herself into his arms. Cason automatically put himself between her and the dog. He was strong; even if the fence hadn’t been there, no dog could get through him.
“Look who it is,” said Cason.
“Big T, you goofball.” Zandra’s heart was racing, only partly because of the dog scare. Cason’s arms still held her tight. That smile of his was mere inches away.
The magnetism between them was too strong to resist as they came together slowly, lips eventually finding each other. The suspense the universe had been holding in exploded inside Zandra and she found herself smiling as her lips moved in sync with Cason’s. She had thought of him so many times, but never imagined kissing him would feel so right, like coming home after too long away.
Yep, she’d won the lottery today and took her time enjoying the prize.
“Woof!” said Big T, and Zandra fell back on her heels, catching her breath. She rested her head against his chest and looked to where the big guy was sitting.
Big T looked between the two of them and twisted his head in confusion. Zandra had no idea if he thought he had been protecting her, or protecting Cason, but it had forced her all the way into his arms.
“Good boy,” said Cason in a stage whisper. “I’ll bring you a steak later.” He didn’t let her go.
Enjoy the moment, she told herself.
She had a feeling she had a lot more great moments ahead.
the end
Author’s Notes
The two big dogs in this book are based on two of the gentle giants my family has been blessed with. Beans, the biggest dog I’ve ever seen, lived life fast and full of love for everyone. Unhealing wounds took him from us, bringing relief and new life to his furry mama.
And Hyrum, who loved only three people in the world—until the week our Deaf friend dog sat him. Every day he scooted closer and closer, snarling if she reached out to him. After nearly a week, he looked up at her then rolled over and showed his belly. And they were best friends. With a toddler in our home, we didn’t take chances with him, but he lived out the rest of his fourteen years with my father-in-law on the Arizona-Mexico border.
About the Author
Daniel Banner, a 15-year fireman and paramedic, collects experiences by day and makes up stories by nights, and sometimes vice versa. For Daniel, writing is an escape from the traumatic days, and a celebration of the triumphant days. Over the years, he and his wife have been blesses with the following breeds: Rottweiler, Mastiff, Great Dane, Greyhound, Great Pyrenees, Gladiator Dane, Chihuahua, and various mutts and mixes.
He is also the author of Two Hearts Rescue, a clean romance set in the fictional Park City Fire Department.
He also writes award winning Contemporary Fiction (Gifts and Consequences) and award winning Fantasy (Jabberwocky, Hatter) under the name of Daniel Coleman.
authordanielbanner
www.dcolemanbooks.com/banner
[email protected]
Sample Chapter from Two Hearts Rescue
Poppy Mercier stared down her enemy. “I own you,” she said, eyes held steady. “Today you’re going to be the one in pain.”
The treadmill stared back, its beady little red and green flashing lights taunting her, daring her to bring it.
“Oh, I’ll bring it,” said Poppy. “I’ll make you wish—”
“Everything okay?” asked a gym employee, who had been working her way up the machines wiping them down. Her name tag read, “Alta.”
Poppy cleared her throat and stepped up onto the treadmill. With an embarrassed grin, she said, “Y-yeah, sorry about that. Just psyching myself up.”
“I hear you,” said Alta. “Sometimes you gotta let them know who’s boss.” She was medium-height, a few inches taller than Poppy, had gorgeous mocha skin, and a body that made it clear she showed the machines who was boss on a regular basis.
“Here’s goes nothing,” exhaled Poppy, then held the up arrow and the belt picked up speed. She always used the manual option for speed and incline because she hated it when the stupid machines demanded she input her weight. It was none of their business.
At 3.3 mph Poppy had to jog to keep up. Dang her short legs. At 6.0 she pulled her finger from the button and resisted the urge to use the handrails like an old woman with a walker.
This wasn’t too bad. She could keep this speed for 3.1 miles. It was her first day as a member of the gym. Hopefully the monthly fee would be enough to motivate her to finally keep going with a workout plan for once. If she could just drop ten to fifteen, then keep them off …
New city—well, old city second time around—new lifestyle, new body? The spirit was willing but the flesh was, the flesh was severely lacking oxygen and Poppy’s second wind was nowhere in sight. Any second now, she told herself. Push through. Even the voice in her head was out of breath.
She stared straight ahead at the pillar in front of the treadmill. She had picked this particular machine because it was the only one with an obstructed view of the enormous mirrors.
Don’t check the distance yet. A little farther.
With things so slow at the shelter, Daria could hold down the fort for an hour. Once Poppy got a few days into a habit of working out, she could take the next step and drag her butt out of bed early enough to come before the shelter opened.
A line of TVs displayed various sports shows and middle of the day talk shows. Neither held any interest for Poppy, so she put her wireless headphones in and resumed her Cami Checketts suspense novel.
As she set her phone back into the cup holder on the treadmill, Poppy accidentally glimpsed the display: .09. Not even a tenth of a mile. The self-inflicted agony was going to last all day. But she couldn’t take all day, she had to get back to shelter.
She also couldn’t keep up this pace. If she died on this treadmill she’d leave exactly 27 animals hanging. For the sake of the animals, Poppy decreased the speed to 5.8. It still felt incredibly fast, but it was slower than a ten-minute mile.
It had to be the elevation. Yeah, that was right, the elevation.
A bright red vehicle passed in front of the gym’s windows. Poppy looked up to see a fire truck and an ambulance pass slowly right along the curb. Was something wrong? Maybe she couldn’t hear the alarm over her audiobook. She pulled out one earbud and looked around for flashing warning lights and saw everyone in the gym just carrying on with their workouts.
The sound of doors slamming outside had to come from the fire trucks. Maybe someone had called 9-1-1 because Poppy looked as unwell as she felt. Poppy gripped the handrail and leaned to the side. Her hair was still in its ponytail but her face was only a few shades shy of heat stroke.
The gym doors opened and a group of firemen came in. Nope, one of them was a female, so she guessed that made them firefighters? They were all dressed in gym shorts and fire departme
nt t-shirts, and the only equipment they carried was radios. It didn’t appear to be an emergency.
They could have been straight out of a beer commercial. One guy was gray-haired and one was, well, for lack of a better word, fat, but as a group they were smokin’. If she hadn’t seen the Park City Fire Department vehicles pull up, she would have wondered if they were here to pose for a photo shoot. Between the six of them, they had some serious muscle and fitness going on.
It was the last one through the door who really caught her eye. He wasn’t a muscle head like a couple of them, but his chiseled face and prominent cheek bones gave him a rugged handsomeness. His dark hair was buzzed on the sides, but more than long enough to run a hand through on the top.
After taking a couple steps into the gym, the fireman looked directly at Poppy, as if sensing her eyes on him. Their eyes met, introduced themselves. They didn’t slide off of each other and go on their way. Her eyes and his eyes said hello, sat down for a speed-date, and ended up having a lengthy conversation, backing up all the other speed daters but still not parting ways until the event coordinator was summoned to force them apart. It was much more intimate than she was comfortable with a perfect stranger, but it still took effort to pull her eyes away.
Is it hot in here? wondered Poppy. She looked down at her phone and reached for it so she could rewind the book … and next thing she knew she was head over heels, executing a perfectly awkward and painful dismount from the treadmill. One second she was running for her life, the next she was laying on the ground, butt in the air, staring up at her knees. The treadmill was still running, grinding against her bare back and trying to rub all of the skin off.
Oh good, at least her shirt had nearly come completely off in the display of grace.
Poppy found herself chuckling through her grimace as she pushed away from the belt of the treadmill. In the face of pain that would break most POWs, she could either laugh or shout every swear word she knew at the top of her lungs. She couldn’t extricate herself from the awkward position, just push off enough to prevent third-degree abrasions. Hopefully.
How to Heel a Wounded Heart (Must Love Dogs Book 4) Page 11