by Mara Wells
Caleb searched her face, and he apparently didn’t need any kind of emoji—not an upside-down face or even a waterfall—to get the picture. He gave LouLou a firm rub under her collar, then picked up his side of the box again. “Alright, let’s do this. Bye-bye, Aiden.”
The box made a satisfying thump when it hit the bottom of the dumpster. Riley slammed the lid shut and wiped her palms on her thighs. LouLou jumped up on her back legs and placed her front paws on Riley’s knees.
“Fine.” She scooped up her pooch. She thought she’d feel triumphant when the last of Aiden was gone from her life. Instead, it felt as if she’d just trashed two years of her history.
“Hey.” Caleb moved in closer and scratched LouLou behind the ears. “I’ve got an idea. It might cheer you up.”
Riley pulled in her pouting lip and tried to force a smile. “I think I’ll stay in the rest of the day. It’s been a pretty eventful few hours.”
Caleb’s mouth quirked into a half smile. “Even if I said LouLou’s invited and what you’re wearing is perfect?”
Riley looked down at her shabby cupcake shirt and raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. Then again, he did kiss her next to a dumpster. His standards didn’t seem particularly high in the aesthetic department.
“I swear.” Caleb held up his hand like a Boy Scout. “Give me half an hour.”
Riley pulled out her phone. “Siri, set the timer for thirty minutes.”
Caleb threw back his head and laughed loudly. LouLou squirmed to be let down so she could jump on him. “Let’s go then. Time’s a-tickin’.”
“Timer set,” Siri said. Riley muted her phone and followed Caleb to his car.
Chapter 16
“Come on, LouLou!” Riley slid into the front seat of Caleb’s Porsche and patted her lap for LouLou to jump in.
Caleb stood to the side, holding the door open, ready to swoop in if needed. He wasn’t sure what he thought would be needed, but Riley seemed off her game this afternoon. Sure, the meeting this morning hadn’t exactly gone her way, and what was happening between them was probably as surprising to her as it was to him, but there was something else. It could be his plans for the Dorothy. No, his instincts told him there was a deeper worry underlying her usual feistiness. That it had prompted her to dump the ex’s stuff was an excellent side effect, but it didn’t stop him from being concerned.
LouLou tilted her head and inched closer to the car, sniffing the low running board suspiciously.
“She doesn’t get in a car with strangers?” Caleb clucked his tongue in an effort to lure LouLou closer. Much like Riley and his earlier texts, she ignored him.
“She’s a smart cookie.”
LouLou perked her ears at the word cookie and did that begging thing with her eyes universal to all dogs.
“Sorry, girl. No treats in the Porsche.” Riley patted her lap again, and the poodle jumped in.
Caleb closed the door and circled to the driver’s side. “Top up or down?”
“LouLou’s never been in a convertible.”
“Down it is.”
They waited while the roof retracted and tucked itself away. Riley relaxed into the plush seat, her fingers dug into LouLou’s fuzzy coat, scratching lightly along her spine. LouLou sat up, one paw on Riley’s wrist.
In minutes, they were speeding south on Alton Road toward South Beach, and LouLou fully enjoyed the rush of wind past her nose. She turned her head left to right, sniffing, sniffing, sniffing, and pawing at Riley’s hand in excitement.
Riley laughed. “Who knew LouLou wanted a convertible?”
“She’s a dog of good taste,” Caleb said with a smile. LouLou’s enjoyment chased some of the sadness out of Riley’s eyes. He wished he could go faster—really let it go, like driving the 75 across state—but Alton was a known speed trap, so he kept the Porsche to a sedate ten miles over the speed limit.
“Where are we going?” Riley held tight to LouLou. The poodle would not be picked up by a sudden gust of wind and swept out of the car in a flurry of furry tragedy, Caleb was happy to note. It might be a ridiculous fear, but he was glad Riley kept a firm grip on the dog. Better safe than sorry, or rather, better safe than irrationally worried. LouLou squirmed but overall seemed quite pleased with the whole convertible turn of events.
“You’ll see.” Caleb turned left onto a small street and wound through a neighborhood of older homes on tiny lots. They passed a one-story Mediterranean villa that took up most of a block, surrounded by a wrought-iron fence that zigged and zagged around mature strangler fig trees shooting their long roots from branch to ground with gothic beauty.
“What a gorgeous place.” Riley craned her neck to get a better view, and Caleb obligingly slowed down. The house was set back from the road and covered in ivy. At some point in its history, the property must’ve been quite a sight, the estate of some local celebrity perhaps. Caleb imagined a Rat Pack–era singer hosting lavish parties on the lushly landscaped grounds. The villa reminded him of the Dorothy—good bones and in need of a huge influx of cash to restore it to its former glory. A pair of dachshunds rushed the fence, one barking so ferociously, its front legs lifted off the ground from the force.
LouLou planted a foot on the top of the door, and Caleb curbed the urge to roll up the windows to keep her inside. Riley pulled the poodle back into her lap and shushed LouLou’s half-hearted growling.
“What a nightmare for those poor owners.” Riley pointed out a blue tarp on the roof—leftover from the hurricane last year, no doubt. “Still working on roof repairs? That’s never a good sign. I hate how long it takes to get anything done. You know, the Dorothy still has windows that need replacing. They’re on order, but I’ve started worrying they’ll never arrive. Which is just as well. There’s no money to pay for installation anyway.” Riley covered her mouth and spoke through her fingers. “I shouldn’t have said that to you. It’s too easy to forget you’re the enemy.”
Surprised, Caleb took a quick study of Riley’s profile. “Because I’m not the enemy. We both want what’s best for the Dorothy. We simply disagree on precisely what that is.”
Riley’s hand dropped to her lap and curled in LouLou’s hair. “That’s not really true. You’re more interested in what’s best for the Donovan business.”
“The Dorothy is a Donovan property. It’s the same thing.” He pulled to a stop at a crosswalk so two bikers and a woman with a baby in a stroller and a toddler by the hand could cross.
“I’m suggesting a new building for practical reasons.” Caleb sped toward the next stop sign. “Remodeling is such a headache. It’s easier to build from scratch. No surprises.” He paused long enough to check for cars. “What am I saying? Of course there are surprises. Any construction job comes with its challenges, but older buildings are filled with the unpleasant kind of surprises. Expensive surprises.”
“Since when is a Donovan worried about expenses?”
Caleb watched the house disappear in the side mirror, a twinge of sadness making him frown at the idea that his father wouldn’t think that beautiful old home worth saving. In fact, before Riley’s presentation this morning, he would’ve felt the same. Now he knew that sometimes a building wasn’t about dollars and cents and bottom lines. Sometimes it was about the past and the people. It was memories and the potential for more. But more cost money, and he’d seen the Rainy Day accounts. More was something the Dorothy simply didn’t have.
“Maybe not all Donovans are worried about money these days, but I’ve learned to count my pennies.” Caleb pulled off his sunglasses and folded them into the cup holder.
“You lost a lot?”
He turned bleak eyes on her. “I lost everything.”
“Not your car, apparently.” It was meant to cheer him up, her little quip, but it had the reverse effect.
“No, not my car. They couldn’t take that.” His blue
eyes darkened like a storm at sea, restless and bleak. “It was paid for. A gift, from my grandpa. But I lost my future. Everything I’d worked for, planned on.”
“Wow, that’s bleak.” Riley turned and tucked a foot under her thigh, facing Caleb. “When my manager told me not to come back to work at the Donovan Resort and I couldn’t renew the lease on my condo, I had to pack up my things and move to Grams’. For months, I sent out résumés for jobs that never panned out. I cried. A lot. I thought about all the other employees going through the same thing, but I never, ever thought about you having it rough, too.”
Caleb shifted in his seat. He hadn’t meant to trigger pity from her. This outing was supposed to be him finding out her deep, dark worry, not exposing his. Still, he couldn’t deny that the way her face softened when she looked at him, the empathy she radiated, was balm on a wound he’d thought healed. He was wrong. His father’s betrayal still burned. That his family’s worst moments also hurt Riley made everything worse. He felt the anger he’d tamped down flare to life again. His father had destroyed so many lives. How could a prison sentence possibly atone for what he’d done?
“I saw you on the news, you know.” Riley threaded her fingers in and out of LouLou’s coat. “You, the golden boy. The heir apparent. You always looked blank, like how sharks seem completely neutral until they’re chomping down on a tasty sea lion? I thought the whole thing rolled off you, that your money protected you from any consequences.”
“It didn’t.” He blinked. Extra-long. His fingers flexed on the gearshift, his knuckles cracking from the pressure. His whole life had changed. So had hers. All because of Robert Donovan. Another thing they had in common.
Then, her fingers squeezed around his. LouLou turned in a circle and rested her chin on top of their hands. Caleb blinked again and let out a deep breath. The anger cooled, banked for now, her touch making him hot in a different way. He revved the engine and turned them onto a tree-lined street, eager to see her response to his surprise.
“Flamingo Park? Gosh, it’s been forever since I’ve been here.” Riley clapped her hands together in delight, and he smiled. He hoped her hand would land back on his, but it didn’t. She kept a firm hold on LouLou instead. “Grams used to bring me here for swim lessons. And tennis. Basically anything they offered, she signed me up for.”
“So you’re an athlete?” Small talk would lighten the mood, wouldn’t it? He didn’t want to bum her out with any more Donovan family stories.
She laughed. “Hardly! I did love this park, though. Lots of good spots for cartwheels. It’s been years since I’ve done one of those, too.”
“No time like the present then. Shall we head over to the Bark Park, and you can show me your moves?”
“Can you believe I’ve never brought her here?” Riley patted the poodle’s head, bringing her mouth closer to LouLou’s ear. She whispered loud enough for Caleb to hear, “I promise to be better about getting out and finding new places for you to sniff.” LouLou wagged her tail in agreement.
Caleb pulled into an angled parking spot near a baseball diamond where a group of young men played soccer. Because the convertible’s top was still down, the sounds of the park rushed at him. The thunk-thunk of basketballs from the nearby courts, the soccer players’ cheers when one side scored, the rustle of overhead leaves as an ocean breeze brushed by. LouLou soaked it all up with her nose and would’ve gone right over the top of the passenger side door if Riley hadn’t kept a grip on her collar.
Riley checked that LouLou was properly hooked to her leash, but before she could open the door herself, Caleb was already there, hand on the door handle.
“You’re fast.” Not as fast as LouLou, who was already on the ground, straining at the end of the leash.
“Spent my high school summers working valet at Donovan Resort downtown.” He winked. “Good tips.”
“Yeah, it was a nice place to work.” Riley stepped carefully out of the car, holding onto the leash with both hands. “I enjoyed the perks, too. Until I was sacked.”
Caleb grimaced. This sore spot was getting a lot of poking lately. “I really am sorry that happened. Believe me, it was no picnic for me, either.”
“You seem to be doing okay,” Riley said in a voice too bitter after their moment in the car. Why did nothing ever go in a straight line, especially emotions? Especially his? That anger bubbled again. Just when he thought he was moving on, it seemed that the past wouldn’t let go of him.
“Yeah, now. I could say the same for you.” Caleb’s carefully blank voice matched his carefully blank face. He recognized it as the defense mechanism it was. He regretted that he couldn’t simply reach out his hand and lace their fingers together like in the car, follow this weird spark between them wherever it led. The push-pull between them intrigued him, and he didn’t want to make a wrong move.
So he didn’t reach out, and she kept her hands on the leash. He tucked his yearning away and reminded himself why they were at the park: to make Riley’s day better. “About those cartwheels?”
She laughed and let LouLou lead the way into the park. “Not in a million years, buddy.”
Caleb scanned the fenced-in area of the park where two golden retrievers chased birds off the grass. They never came even close to catching one, but they sure were excited every time one took flight. The birds didn’t seem too worried about the doggy duo since they’d land in another part of the park a few seconds later, causing the goldens to scramble after them again. A young woman in running shorts sat on an aluminum bench, scrolling through her phone with earbuds in.
Caleb opened the gate and gestured Riley and LouLou through. Riley unclipped her dog, and LouLou beelined for the goldens, stopping a few feet short of them and executing an adorable play bow. They took her up on the invitation and were soon racing through the grass in giant figure-eights.
“She sure doesn’t act like an older dog.” Caleb led Riley toward a bench in the shade of a live oak tree, still so careful with her that he thought an ice pick could crack the air between them.
“Her bladder’s really the only sign of aging.” Riley smiled at LouLou’s antics, running under the goldens’ bellies and cutting sharp corners. “Sorry again about your shoes.”
She slanted a glance his way, and he looked back. She really was ridiculously beautiful, those wild curls and the smattering of freckles across her nose visible now that the makeup she’d worn to the meeting this morning had mostly worn off. He could be friendly without crossing a line. Hadn’t they had enough drama for one day? Still, his eyes kept roaming to her lips, their soft pinkness, and all he could think about was kissing her again.
“Sorry again about how you lost your job.” Caleb strung his arm along the back of the bench, his fingers close enough to Riley’s shoulders that he had to fight the temptation to shift a little to feel the brush of his skin against hers. Because the line. He was holding it. Oh, who was he kidding? Seriously. Without even thinking about it, he drew lines of his own, small swirls and circles, on her skin; it was hard to remember why he shouldn’t. Business. They needed to settle the Dorothy thing between them. As long as she felt they were on opposite sides, she’d never trust him. And he wanted that, her trust. He wanted it a lot.
“I sincerely hope we can put the meeting this morning behind us. That’s why I brought you here. Let’s plan the Dorothy’s dog park. If you’re working with me, it’ll get the support it needs.” Caleb studied her, his face close enough that it wouldn’t take much to brush his lips against her ears. When had he started being turned on by ears? But it was happening. She did things to him that no one else ever had. If he wanted to talk business, he really needed to move away from her.
“You mean, support for the changes to the building?” Riley flushed. Good or bad sign? He couldn’t tell. “You know the neighborhood already supports a dog park. You’re looking to use me to win them over for your building plan
s, aren’t you? But what happens to your parking plan if the city doesn’t think half the lot is big enough?”
Okay, her tone made it clear. Bad sign. She was committed to her vision of the Dorothy. He admired it, really. In his world, when a deal got too complicated, you walked away. He knew Riley would not walk away from the Dorothy. Could they find a path for the Dorothy that they could walk together? The dog park was his first step in her direction. Would she meet him halfway?
“That’s a problem for the architect to figure out.” Caleb waved his hand like a magician doing a trick, Ta-da! style. “I tell him what we want; he makes it happen. What do you think? Half the lot as a park like this?”
Riley squirmed away from his touch and inspected the aging agility equipment—a worn-out A-frame ramp, metal hoops of different sizes and heights, a raised wooden platform. The grass was in good condition, and the old-growth trees were beautiful and provided a lot of shade, which Caleb imagined would be especially nice in the summertime. The Dorothy’s empty lot didn’t have many trees, and he’d already seen owners in the lot with their own handheld fans and portable water dishes for their dogs.
“The trees are nice.” Riley leaned back just enough that Caleb’s fingers brushed the top of her shoulder. The fabric of her T-shirt didn’t shield him from the impact of her touch. He wanted more. More of her attention, her skin against his, her help creating a grand dog park. But the line he was holding wouldn’t let him admit it. He held perfectly still and pretended that he didn’t notice the heat traveling up his fingers, spreading through his very nervous system. How could he be feeling warmer from an innocent touch on her shoulder?
“And benches.” His fingertips moved in a slow circle, not so innocently now. “Though these aren’t particularly comfortable.” He shifted, trying to find a better position, and their knees touched, her bare one against the smooth khaki material of his pants. It shouldn’t make him jittery. He jittered anyway, leg bouncing on the ball of his foot, looking out over the park like he’d never seen dogs at play before. He should move away from her. He didn’t. She didn’t move away, either.
