Gage watched as Braden curled the gigantic dumbbells. “Right.” He cleared his throat, and grabbed a slightly smaller set so he could do his own curls.
“She left a note on my car, saying she'd hit it.”
Braden froze, one arm up, the other down. “She ran into your car?”
“No,” Gage said, huffing a little. “She just wanted to mess with me. Make me freak out, looking for the damage.”
Braden gaped at him for a moment. “Oh man, that's cold,” he said. “Your car’s sweet.” He resumed his curls.
“Thanks,” Gage muttered. “It took me three hours to figure out that there was nothing wrong.”
Braden pressed his lips together, then burst out laughing. “I'm sorry. But you've got to admit, that's pretty funny.”
And the thing was, now . . . days later . . . he could kind of see it.
Gage's lips twitched as he selected another set of weights for triceps extensions. “I guess it kind of is.” He shook his head. “It really ticked me off at the time, though.”
Braden stopped again, his smile fading. “Oh yeah? What did you do?” His voice took on a hard edge.
“Nothing really,” Gage said quickly. “I gave her a speeding ticket.”
Braden snorted. “Was she speeding?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, then.” He shrugged, and put away the dumbbells. “I've gotta say, you two have the weirdest thing going on.”
“We don't have a thing.”
Braden dropped down and started doing pushups. “You drive each other crazy.”
He had to give him that. “Yeah.”
“You irritate the heck out of each other.”
“Definitely.”
“But you keep talking about each other.”
That surprised Gage. “She talks about me?” And perhaps that came out a little more eager-sounding than he'd intended.
Braden hopped up, switching to burpees. “Definitely a thing,” he said with a significant look.
Gage shook his head and put the dumbbells back on the rack. “Look, I came here because I need some peace in my life,” he said, wiping his face with a towel. “I need to be able to figure out a way to get along with her. Co-exist in a civil manner.”
“You sure that's all you want?” Braden asked, getting to his feet.
Probably. Maybe. “Definitely,” he replied. “No offense to you or your sister, but women have brought nothing but chaos to my life. And that's something I definitely don't need right now.”
“I hear that,” Braden said, holding up a hand for a high-five.
Gage slapped his palm.
They finished their workout, and Gage emerged from the locker room showered, refreshed, and tired in all the best ways. He'd probably pay for it the next day, but he stopped by the front desk and filled out a membership form. He needed to get back into the habit.
“So I'll see you tomorrow afternoon to watch the game?” Braden asked as they emerged from the building.
“Yeah,” Gage said. “I'd offer to bring the beer but . . .”
He laughed. “I'll take care of that. You can spring for the pizza.”
“Works for me. You want to grab some breakfast?” Gage pulled his keys out of his pocket, then stopped when a weird whining sound caught his attention.
“What was that?” Braden asked.
The whining continued, and they followed the sound around the corner of the gym building, to a small, fenced area housing some dumpsters. They passed through the open gate, and Gage cocked his head, listening, then dropped to his hands and knees, peering under one of the dumpsters.
A pair of dark eyes peered back at him.
“It's a dog,” he told Braden in a low voice, trying not to spook the already frightened animal. “Hey, buddy,” he crooned. “Come on out.”
“Here, try this,” Braden said, pulling a bag of jerky out of his gym bag. He handed Gage a piece.
He held it out to the dog. “Come on, buddy. How about a snack?” The dog scooted forward just a little, and Gage pulled the jerky back, luring him out. It took a few minutes of back-and-forth, but eventually, the pup emerged from beneath the dumpster, wet, dirty and obviously hungry, if the way it snatched up the jerky was any indication.
Underneath the grime, Gage could tell the dog was yellow, maybe a lab, although it was younger than he'd thought, a puppy, really. He wondered how long it had been fending for itself, its ribs and joints poked out, his hair missing in a few spots.
“Wow, looks like this little guy's been through the ringer,” Braden said, handing the dog another piece of jerky.
“Yeah.” The dog shivered and Gage pulled a towel from his bag and rubbed it over his body, removing some of the mud. He scratched the pup between the ears, earning a doggy grin, complete with lolling tongue and eyes closed in bliss.
“What are you going to do with him?” Braden asked.
“Me?” Gage glanced at him. “You don't want a puppy?”
Braden laughed. “Sorry. I'm allergic.”
Gage studied him, unsure if he believed him or not. “Well, I think I need to get him to a vet, first of all. Do you have one?”
Braden gave him directions and wished him luck, and Gage bundled the puppy up in the dirty towel and loaded him into the car. Once the heat hit the pup, he relaxed, curled up on the seat, and fell asleep.
Doctor Tricia Carlson's office was a converted brick rambler on about an acre of property, not far from the police station. When Gage arrived, he could hear barking coming from the long, low building behind the office . . . he assumed the doctor had a boarding business as well. He gathered the still-sleeping puppy into his arms and carried him inside, setting him on the counter as he greeted a young woman dressed in scrubs, typing on a computer.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“I hope so,” he replied. “I found this little guy under a dumpster, and I thought I better bring him in to get him checked out. Maybe see if there's a microchip.”
“Aww,” the girl crooned, scratching the pup behind an ear. “What a sweetie.” She smiled up at him. “It's actually pretty slow today, so I'm sure we can get him in. Can you have a seat and I'll check with Doctor Carlson?”
Gage nodded and carried the dog over to one of the long, padded benches. A woman emerged from the back with a cat in a carrier, and nodded at him before she left. After a few minutes, a brown-haired woman in a white coat walked out and smiled at him.
“Hello, Chief,” she said. “I'm Doctor Carlson.”
He'd gotten used to people knowing who he was, so Gage shook her offered hand without question. “Nice to meet you.”
“I understand you found a stray?” The pup raised its head at the sound of her voice and she smiled at him, petting his head. “Why don't I take him, get him cleaned up, and check him out?”
“I'd appreciate that.”
She nodded, then took the dog from him. “Are you wanting to keep him? If there's no microchip, I mean.”
Gage opened his mouth to refuse, to tell her no, the dog would have to stay there, or go to the pound, but at that moment, the puppy looked back at him, brown eyes wide and innocent, and let out a little whine.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I'll take him.”
“Great!” She kissed the puppy's head. “Give me about twenty minutes or so, and I'll come get you when we're done.”
Gage waited patiently, watching a show about pet rescues on the TV mounted on the waiting room wall. When Doctor Carlson came back out, leading the puppy on a leash, he stood up.
“How is he?”
She smiled. “She.”
“What?”
“The pup's a she, actually,” she said, “and she's fine. Malnourished and a little scared, which was understandable. But it's nothing that a regular feeding schedule and a little love can't cure.
“She's also not chipped.” The doctor slid her hands into the pockets of her white coat. “So, if you're still up for it, she's all yo
urs.”
Gage dropped into a crouch and the puppy ran over to him, all awkward angles and floppy ears. “Yeah,” he said. “I'm up for it.”
* * *
On Saturday mornings, the Holiday Junction Diner was a popular destination for breakfast, due in part to the all-you-can-eat pancake special. Lena and Vi managed to wrangle a small table by the window, although only Vi opted for the pancakes, along with a side of link sausages. Lena chose the chorizo omelet with guacamole, the spicy scent making her stomach growl when the server set it down before her.
“I don't know how you can eat that so early in the morning,” Vi said, pouring a generous amount of syrup over her pancakes.
Lena shrugged. “I don't know how you can eat peanut butter on your pancakes, but we all have our quirks.” Lena stirred a little cream into her coffee. “So, how are rehearsals coming?” In addition to being the choir and drama teacher, Vi was directing the high school's spring musical—a rendition of The Music Man they'd be performing in a few weeks.
Vi swallowed a mouthful of pancakes. “Pretty good. The sets are looking great and most of the kids have all their lines down, so I think they'll be ready.” She sipped her coffee, eyeing Lena over her cup. “What's new with you?”
Lena felt her face heat. “Nothing much.”
“Uh huh.” She didn't look convinced.
She sighed. “Okay, so I got another ticket.”
Vi set down her cup, her mouth dropping open. “You're kidding.”
“I wish I was.” She smeared guacamole on her omelet. “He wasn't even going to write me one, but then I went and apologized for the prank and that ticked him off even more—”
“Hold on.” Vi raised her hand. “Prank? You're going to have to walk me through this.”
So Lena filled her in on what she'd done, more embarrassed with every minute. She couldn't believe how childish she'd been, how she'd allowed herself to be swept up in some kind of ridiculous revenge.
At the same time, she was pretty ticked off that Gage got his own revenge.
Vi sat back in her chair, shaking her head. “That's—I don't even know the word.”
“I know.” Lena poked at her omelet. “I feel really bad for what I did—”
“You should.”
“I know. But when I tried to say I was sorry, He was such a jerk about it.”
Vi sighed. “Can't disagree with you there.”
She took a bite of toast, chewing thoughtfully. “I've never had such trouble getting along with anyone,” she said. “I can't decide if he's really that obnoxious, or if I'm just upset because he doesn't like me.” She frowned. “Does that make me pathetic?”
Vi smiled, cutting another slice off her stack of pancakes. “Pathetic? No. But I guess I wonder why you want him to like you.”
Lena shrugged. “Because I hate for people not to like me?”
“You sure that's the only reason?” Vi raised a brow.
Lena set her fork down and took a deep breath. “I'm not interested in Gage that way.”
“If you say so.”
“I'm not,” she said firmly. “I—” She broke off, looking away.
Vi was silent for a moment, then she asked quietly, “Would it be so horrible if you were?”
This was something Lena hadn't talked about, something she wasn't sure she wanted to talk about. But at the same time, maybe it would help if Vi understood why she wasn't interested in dating Gage or anyone like him anytime soon.
“I never told you why I came back to Holiday Junction,” she said, finally turning back to her friend.
Vi looked confused. “You said you got homesick.”
“Right.” Lena swallowed thickly, nerves curling in her stomach. “That was part of it, but not all.” She toyed with her fork, the metal tines clinking against the plate. “When I left, I was so excited to get out in the world, you know? Couldn't wait to go everywhere. See everything. I wanted to live life. I was so—” She searched for the right word.
“Enthusiastic?” Vi suggested.
Lena gave her a faint smile. “Well, yeah, but I was thinking young. Naive. Trusting.” She put her hands in her lap, twisting her napkin idly. “I dated a few guys along the way, and I couldn't figure out why they were so nice at first, then they'd stop calling, or cheat on me, or say I was too needy and leave.” She swallowed the tears threatening to clog her throat. “Then I met Andre in Australia.” She glanced at her friend, but Vi didn't say anything. She just watched Lena with soft eyes.
“He was crazy about me,” she said with a small laugh. “And so protective. He'd open doors and pull out chairs. You know, all that stuff you see in old movies. I thought it was romantic. It was great for a while. We traveled together and had an amazing time. We were in love. He told me he loved me.” Lena choked a little and Vi reached across the table to pat her hand.
“Anyway,” she said, forcing a smile. “Looking back now, I can see all the warning signs. How he isolated me, discouraged me from talking to my family or making other friends. He was so jealous, and at the time, I thought it was flattering. But then he'd get angry—” She shook her head and brushed away a stray tear.
“Lena,” Vi whispered. “Did he hurt you?”
She sighed. “Once. And that's when I left. I was so scared, and I took the first flight home.”
“I'm so sorry.”
Lena shrugged. “It's over now, and I'm okay. After a while, I started seeing a therapist and she really helped.” She straightened, her chin lifted. “I'm good now, and nothing like that will ever happen again.”
Vi nodded. “Good for you,” she said. “But does that mean you have to keep all men at arm's length?”
“Not all men,” Lena replied. “But all my life I've been attracted to the wrong kind of men—big, strong, protective, Alpha males. And I get lost in them. I can't let myself be controlled like that again.”
Vi frowned. “What does your therapist say about it?”
Lena cradled her cup between her hands. “She says I shouldn't cut myself off. That I'm stronger than I give myself credit for and I can't live my life from a place of fear.”
“I would tend to agree,” Vi said, tapping a fingernail on her coffee cup. “It sounds to me like you've learned a lot. You're not the same girl who left Holiday Junction.”
“I hope not.”
“And not every big, strong guy is an abuser,” Vi said, making Lena flinch at the word.
“I know that.” Her gaze dropped to the tabletop.
Vi ducked her head until Lena met her eyes. “Do you?”
Lena rubbed her eyes, then swept her hair back with both hands. “I do. But I can't risk it, Vi. I can't. Even if that makes me a coward.”
“You're not a coward,” Vi said, a bit of fire in her eyes. “You're anything but a coward. But I hope you're not missing out on something that could be really great, because you're too scared to give it a shot.”
Lena didn't know what to say to that. Vi smiled sadly and went back to her pancakes, chewing slowly while she looked out the window. Lena forced herself to eat some more of her meal, and gulped down the remainder of her lukewarm coffee. They ate in silence for a few minutes, then Vi giggled, drawing Lena's attention.
“What?” she asked.
Vi glanced at her, then tipped her head toward the window. “Look.”
Lena followed her gaze, and immediately recognized Gage's blue muscle car, parked across the street. Her heartbeat sped up a bit, like he'd know they were talking about him. She scanned the crosswalk and spotted him walking a little yellow puppy. The dog yipped and circled around his legs, tangling him up in the leash. He stumbled, catching himself on a sign pole before he unwrapped the leash and leaned down to scratch the dog behind the ears. The puppy licked his nose and he threw his head back, laughing. Then he got to his feet and picked it up, carrying it into the market across the street. Lena couldn't keep from smiling at the sight.
“You can tell a lot about a man by the way he
treats animals,” Vi said quietly.
Lena didn't respond, but she wondered if Vi might be right. Not only about Gage Turner, but about herself. She'd prided herself on living life on her own terms, but was she blinded by fear? Could she be isolating herself more than Andre ever had?
The thought made her a little sick, but she forced a smile and tried to enjoy the rest of her time with Vi, putting it all out of her mind, for now.
* * *
Lou was working at the bookshop, creating the front window display for St. Patrick's Day, when Vi stopped by after breakfast. Lou prided herself on having the best decorations on the block, and as she arranged an array of Irish-themed books atop a length of green fabric, she spotted her daughter watching from the sidewalk. She waved her in and extricated herself from the shamrocks and faux emeralds hanging from the ceiling.
“Looks great,” Vi said as she pulled her mom into a hug. “You about finished?”
Lou surveyed the display, hands on her hips. “Almost. I have to hang the rainbow and fill the pot of gold with chocolate coins and I'll be done.”
“Want a hand?”
“If you're offering,” Lou said with a smile. She pulled a quilted rainbow out of the storage bin and unrolled it, shaking out the wrinkles. “Grab that side,” she told Vi.
As they hung the rainbow with fishing line, Lou asked, “So, how was breakfast?”
Vi gave her a sideways glance. “I can't believe you've roped me in as some kind of spy.”
“It's all for a good cause,” Lou said, pushing a thumbtack into the ceiling. “Did you talk to her about Gage?”
“I did.”
“And?”
Vi adjusted the end of the rainbow, flipping it so it hung correctly. “It's a bit more complicated than we suspected. Lena's past with men has made her more than a little gun-shy.”
“What do you mean?” Lou asked.
Vi frowned. “It's not my story to tell,” she said. “But I can tell you it's going to take a lot for her to trust any man, let alone Gage.”
Lena’s Lucky Charm: Love in Holiday Junction, Book 2 Page 8
