Dee leaned back to look past Dad, asking, “Are you sure he’s just a friend?”
“Okay, going.” Josh retreated before they could gang up on him. He threw out his gloves on the way to the office, where he took out his phone. Be there in a few minutes, he sent to Michael.
The Bagel End uniform was almost subtle enough to pass for normal clothing, if not for the eye-searing yellow logo, but Josh was sick of the bright-blue polo shirt. Besides, he smelled like bagels. He had a couple of T-shirts in the office, though, along with an emergency toiletries kit. Five minutes in the bathroom, and he’d changed his shirt, splashed water on his face, and brushed his teeth. That was as close to presentable as he’d get without a shower and a shave.
But when he was done, he froze up, leaning against the sink to stare in the mirror. What he saw there was discouraging. With his round baby face, he looked five years younger than he actually was, except for the dark circles under his eyes, thanks to his stupidly early schedule these past few days. He was in desperate need of a haircut, not that there was any style on the planet that would make his floppy curls look fashionable. His body’s idea of five-o’clock shadow was a dirty-blond patch on his chin that made him look like a high school hipster.
What the hell was he doing getting ready for what might be a date with what had to be the hottest guy to walk into Bagel End in the last year? Here in his home territory, where being customer and server gave them the excuse to associate, he felt somewhat comfortable. Out there, though, in the wild? They were such a mismatched pair, they’d be laughed out of wherever they went, including the green.
Then he looked at his phone, where there were two more texts from Michael. See you soon, followed by a smiley face. Mismatched or not, Michael was putting an effort into this.
He’s interested in me, Josh thought as he slid the phone into his pocket. Then he looked in the mirror and mustered up a smile for his reflection. Apparently, they were interested in each other, which was good enough for him.
The triangular town green was lined with benches, giving Michael his choice of a dozen exposed positions for his wait. Shivers crawled up his spine despite the unseasonable warmth of the sun that had burned through the morning’s fog. No matter where he sat, his back was to a street or a building. The island was so different from DC—so different from the places where he’d been deployed—that every noise felt unfamiliar. Threatening.
After coming here from the veterinarian’s office, he’d taken off Kaylee’s vest to let her roll around in the grass in front of the bench, which was probably a mistake. Every time a car rumbled past, his chest went a little tighter, until he was struggling to breathe, time skittering from moment to moment in snapshots. Kaylee sniffing for bugs. A car braking sharply. Two cyclists on the sidewalk right behind Michael’s bench. A delivery truck roaring by.
He had nothing to distract him. Even the statue looming nearby, with its sharp antlers and dead bronze eyes, had him spooked.
“Kaylee, vest,” he finally said, needing something to ground him before his nerve broke. He wasn’t going to run and miss out on seeing Josh so he could hide in his parents’ barn.
Despite playtime being cut short, Kaylee stood quietly for Michael to put on her vest and rearrange her leash. At a quick hand signal, she jumped onto the bench and slithered across his lap, leaning heavily against his body, a warm weight keeping him present, reminding him that he was safe. He let go of the leash and buried both hands in her fur. When she went limp with contentment, he actually managed to smile.
And when she lifted her head, looking behind Michael, he tensed but didn’t get lost in a rush of adrenaline. Safe. He just looked around, holding Kaylee to keep her from falling, and spotted Josh stepping up onto the curb nearby.
Josh, not in the blue polo that had been the only shirt Michael had seen him in so far. His T-shirt was red and looked soft, stretched at the collar, casual and comfortable and inviting. Michael gave Kaylee’s fur one last ruffle and told her, “Off.” She jumped down, and Michael hastily brushed at the coat of dog fur he was now wearing.
“Hey. Sorry that took so long,” Josh said as he hurried around the bench. When Kaylee moved to block him, he smiled down at her. “You didn’t say if you wanted me to bring anything, but—”
“What? No.” Michael quickly got to his feet, or tried to. He made it halfway, then sat back down hard as the world went briefly fuzzy. Trying to cover his stumble, he said, “Kaylee, back. Have a seat. Or did you want to go somewhere?”
Kaylee made room for Josh to sit down. He did, though he twisted and stuck out one leg so he could shove a hand in his pocket. “Whatever. We, um, had some extra bacon, though . . .” He pulled out a folded, somewhat crumpled bundle of waxed paper and offered it to Michael. “For your girl there. Or you, if you want a snack, I guess.”
Michael took the bundle, fingers tingling as they brushed against Josh’s. “Thanks,” he said, unfolding the paper to reveal a few broken strips of bacon, cooked crunchy and now cool. He grinned, thinking this was both unnecessary and adorable.
“I didn’t know if it’d be okay. I don’t want to spoil her.” Josh gave a shy little shrug. “Okay, I do, but only because she’s cute. But I know she’s working—”
“No, it’s okay. She can say hi to you,” Michael interrupted before Josh could talk himself out of liking Kaylee. He held out the waxed paper, asking, “Did you want to . . .?”
“Yeah. I love dogs.” Josh’s grin was warm and light, banishing the last of the tension knotted in Michael’s chest.
Michael found the end of the leash and caught Kaylee’s eye. “Kaylee, say hi,” he said, and she wagged her tail, jaw dropping in a grin. He gestured for her to focus on Josh, who happily held out a piece of bacon resting on his palm, as if he were feeding a horse. “She won’t bite,” Michael assured him.
Josh nodded, cheeks darkening. “I didn’t think—” He twitched his hand toward Kaylee, then frowned. “Doesn’t she want it? She likes bacon, right?”
“Oh. Tell her, ‘Take it.’ She’s very polite.”
“Take it,” Josh said, and Kaylee made the bacon disappear in an instant.
“Good girl,” Michael said encouragingly. “You can give her the rest, if you want. Part of the public access test is she has to ignore a plate of food put on the floor in front of her for a full minute. That’s why she’s trained for ‘Leave it’ and ‘Take it.’”
“Damn. That’s just mean. Take it,” Josh said, giving her two pieces of bacon this time, as if to make up for her past trials. “What’s the test for? So she can legally go out in public?”
“Legally, all she needs is to be trained to mitigate a disability and be housebroken, under control, and not disruptive or a health hazard.” The memorized speech flowed easily. Kaylee was a comfortable topic of conversation, even with strangers. There wasn’t a hint of judgment or selfishness anywhere in Josh, as far as Michael could tell. “She’s been going out since she was a puppy, but this was to prove she could do stuff like ignore food dropped in front of her and not go sniffing everything at the grocery store or restaurants.”
“Aww. I hope you spoil her when she’s off duty.” Josh did his part, offering her the rest of the bacon, instead of taking the unintentional opening to ask for specifics about Michael’s disability. “Take it. That’s a good girl.”
“Yeah, I do. She’s a big help.” Michael rested his elbows on his knees so he could scratch her back. She wiggled without breaking her sit, head tipped to look at him with brown eyes full of affection and happiness. “It’s not required.”
“What?” Josh crumpled the paper and shoved it into his pocket, then dusted his hands off on his jeans.
“The test. There’s no government certification for service dogs or anything. We did the tests because training for them made sure Kaylee was ready for anything she might encounter.” He smiled down at her as Josh ran his fingers through the fur between her ears. It felt intimate, something Michael would
n’t allow with anyone else. Wanting to prolong the moment, he added, “Shopping carts, forklifts, idiot drivers in parking lots, whatever.”
“Sounds like you’re lucky to have each other.”
Michael frowned, thinking he’d misheard. “Huh?” Josh had to be saying Michael was lucky to have Kaylee, in that way that some well-meaning dog-lovers did, forgetting entirely about the “disability” part. All they saw was the cute ability to have a dog go everywhere.
Josh grinned at him. “It couldn’t have been easy, all that training, right?”
“Well, no. It took a year and a half from when I got her as a puppy, just eight weeks old. We’re still working on some stuff.”
Josh nodded. “She’s lucky to have someone willing to put in all that effort to teach her to be comfortable in public.”
Oh. Michael hadn’t misheard. Josh understood. “It’s . . . We’re partners.”
“I’ve always loved dogs. We couldn’t have one. My mom was allergic, and then it wouldn’t have been fair, with the schedule Dad and I keep.” Josh sat back with a soft sigh. “We get a lot of asshole tourists who bring dogs, then abandon them, like they’re . . . I don’t know. Fashion accessories or something.” He glanced over at Michael. “There’s going to be a town hall meeting about it, if you want to come.”
“Dr. Mason mentioned something about that.” When Josh frowned, Michael explained, “The town vet? We went there today to transfer Kaylee’s health records. And we finally got her toenails clipped.”
“Spa day, huh?” Josh reached out to ruffle her ears again.
The affection in Josh’s voice warmed Michael down to his toes, even if it was directed at Kaylee, not him. “But no bath, even though she’s due. We were—” Michael nearly said, at a farm yesterday, but that would lead to questions about his family. His father. He looked down at the grass clinging to her fur and quickly said, “We’ve been playing outside a lot. She likes sniffing around the bushes and trees.”
Josh nodded as if he hadn’t noticed the hesitation, or maybe he was too polite to mention it. “What about the beach?”
“We haven’t gone yet.”
“Well, have you had lunch? There’s a pretty good hot dog stand there. I’m not sure if it’s open—it’s a tourist-season thing—but we can check.”
“Yeah. That sounds good,” Michael said, hoping that Josh wasn’t looking at this as just two guys hanging out. If he was, Michael would learn to live with it—his therapist had said friends were more important than casual hookups—but he hoped this was something more. “Did you want to walk or drive?”
Josh darted a look at him. “I, uh . . . I only have keys to the shop truck. I like to leave the car for my dad, so he doesn’t have to walk.”
So Josh shared a car with his dad. Did that mean he lived with his dad? Not that Michael was in any position to judge, except that it could make dating awkward.
Michael took a moment to check in with himself. Kaylee had helped calm him down, and being with Josh left him feeling . . . better. It wasn’t quite like how he remembered feeling before he’d been deployed—before he’d been wounded—but he felt better now than he had in years.
“I can drive,” he offered, gesturing at his SUV. “Or we can walk.”
Josh winced and looked down, lifting his feet off the grass, flexing his ankles back and forth. “If you don’t mind driving . . . We got hit with a rush at like eleven, and it probably still hasn’t let up. This is the first chance I’ve had to sit in a week, it feels like.”
“I can run to”—Michael hesitated, glancing around at the nearby restaurants; there were only two, one of which was Bagel End—“the diner, pick up something to go, if you want to just sit here.”
Josh laughed and kicked lightly at Michael’s shoe; the momentary contact sent a thrill through Michael, a ridiculous overreaction to a casual, friendly touch. “Let’s take our chances on hot dogs,” Josh said. “Kaylee deserves another treat, and I think I can manage the walk from the parking lot.”
This early in the season, the beach was deserted, the kiosks all shuttered. The isolation suited Josh just fine, even though they wouldn’t be having lunch here after all. The problem with a small town was nothing was ever private. The last thing he wanted was to run into someone who remembered him from school—especially one of the teachers who’d nearly failed him before he’d dropped out.
Instead of taking a handicap spot by the short boardwalk, Michael parked a row back. There was no handicap tag hanging from the rearview mirror. What exactly was his disability? Did it have anything to do with how he sometimes got his words confused? Or how it looked like he’d almost fallen when Josh found him at the park?
Josh wouldn’t ask, but he couldn’t deny his curiosity, especially when Michael got out of the SUV and went around to the backseat so he could take off Kaylee’s service vest. When Josh turned to get out, he spotted the parking meter in front of the SUV. He took out his wallet and dug through the various cards to find his residential parking pass. He and his dad renewed their passes every January like clockwork, though they rarely had a reason to use them. Josh slid it across the dashboard to the driver’s side, making sure the info was visible, then hopped down and circled around the SUV.
“I put up my parking pass,” he told Michael. “If you’re going to be living here for more than six months, you can register for it at the police department. It’s ten bucks a year, lets you park in any metered spot for free. You just need a driver’s license with an address on the island.”
“That’s on my list.” Michael called Kaylee out of the SUV, then closed the door. “It feels like I’ve only been back a few hours, not a few days. I have way too much to do.”
“Anything I can help with?” Josh asked. “I can’t do your paperwork, but I’m pretty good at moving boxes and assembling furniture.”
“Thanks, but it’s all paperwork. Change of address, voter registration, car registration, insurance, finding a doctor . . .” Michael sighed, shoulders slumped.
Josh smiled reassuringly. “Then I can offer bagels, caffeine, and bacon, since it looks like we won’t be having hot dogs.”
Michael grinned. “That I can accept. Thanks.” He started for the beach, cutting diagonally across the parking lot. The hairs on his arms were standing up, making Josh wish he had a jacket to offer. This was a balmy day for the locals, but Michael’s blood had apparently thinned.
And that made Josh think about the old fireplace in his living room. He and his dad rarely bothered lighting it except on the coldest winter nights, but Josh could all too easily picture Michael sitting on the awful floral-print couch, the glow of the fire bringing out highlights in his deep-brown hair. The two of them could wrap up in a quilt this winter and watch the snow fall while Kaylee slept on the warm hearth.
Stop getting ahead of yourself. Josh shook his head, focusing on the present instead. He was off work and in great company, with the rest of the day to himself. If he could convince Michael to come to Bagel End for lunch instead of breakfast, maybe he could even sleep in tomorrow morning.
When they reached the sand-dusted boardwalk, Michael stopped and looked around. “Think anyone else is going to be here?”
“Probably not. It’s a weekday, too early in the season for tourists,” Josh said with a shrug. The beach had recently been cleaned and raked, and about half the usual number of oil drums had been set along the boardwalk as trash barrels. None of the kiosks had For Rent signs on them, which was a good omen for a busy summer. The dark-blue waves smashing into the breakwaters to either side of the beach looked icy. Not that Josh gave a damn about scenery. Michael’s sly grin was captivating.
“If I take off Kaylee’s leash, will you call the cops on me, or do I get some slack as a fellow local?”
For that smile, Josh would drive the getaway car in a bank robbery. “I can be bribed into silence,” he said, adrenaline singing through him in a sudden spike of nervousness. “Maybe with dinner?”
> “You got it.” Michael unclipped Kaylee’s leash, then hung it around his neck. “We’ll make it an early dinner, since we’re not getting hot dogs. Sound good?”
That was actually a relief, since “early dinner” didn’t imply “fancy dinner,” which meant Josh didn’t have to panic about not having anything nice to wear. His one dress shirt was three years out of date and probably didn’t fit anymore.
“Sounds great . . .” Josh was going to say something about the meager choice of restaurants on the island, but Kaylee was standing at the very edge of the boardwalk, prodding at the sand with one front paw, head tilted almost sideways.
Michael lifted a hand and coughed, not quite hiding a laugh. “She’s, ah, never seen sand. We worked on all sorts of surfaces—pavement, rocks, grass, but not sand.”
Josh tried to hold back his own laughter as Kaylee got a second paw on the sand. “She’ll manage. Maybe you should show—” He cut off with a yelp as Kaylee discovered that while sand wasn’t for walking, it was definitely for digging.
Backing away from the waves of sand flying in all directions, Michael yelled, “Kaylee, sit!” The sand-based assault stopped instantly, except for the small cloud raised by her wagging tail. He looked down at himself, then at Josh. “Shit. I’m sorry,” he said, brushing his hand down Josh’s chest, sprinkling sand everywhere.
“Hey, it’s fine. She’s having fun,” Josh said, staring at Michael’s hand. Long, elegant fingers. No sign of a tan or calluses. “Want to show her the water?”
“She learned how to swim in a pool.” Michael gave one last brush, slow and gentle enough to make Josh’s breath catch. “The waves might make her head explode.”
She’s not the only one. Josh looked over at the dog, glad for the distraction. “Yeah,” he said, though he had no idea what he was agreeing to.
Michael just nodded—at least someone knew what was going on—and stepped out onto the sand. “C’mon, Kaylee,” he called, heading for the waves. Despite her misgivings, Kaylee followed loyally, prancing with her feet held high.
Change of Address Page 10
