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Walking Dick

Page 8

by Candi Heart


  “Well, good morning!”

  I looked up in alarm to see Matt lingering at the far end of my walkway with two steaming mugs in his hands. As soon as we made eye contact, he pushed open the gate. A startled blush colored my cheeks, and I hastened to wipe my face as he headed tentatively up the walk. For once, my over-observant writer didn’t notice because he was too busy staring down proudly at the cups in his hands, trying his best not to spill their hot contents.

  “Okay, so I know this is a little unorthodox and completely uninvited, but I want to thank you again for showing me around yesterday. Then I remembered you ran out of coffee, so...” He glanced up and trailed off at the same time. In a flash, his face tightened with automatic concern, and the coffee was forgotten. “Alana? What happened?”

  I didn’t even realize I’d started crying till I saw him standing on the walk, looking at me like that, but now that I was sobbing, I had no idea how to make it stop. “Oh... nothing,” I quickly answered, deciding it was best just to deny it. I forced a grimacing smile, trying to just will the tears away. “I was just looking through the paper and... Well, anyway, thanks for the coffee. This is really so sweet.”

  “Forget the coffee.” He discarded the mugs without another thought and sank down next to me, not on the swinging bench but kneeling on the ground in front of it, as if to try to get a better look at my face. “Please tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help.”

  “Seriously, it’s nothing,” I deflected again, my mind scrambling for a way to move past it. “I’m glad you stopped by though. I had a ton of fun yesterday, and—”

  “Alana, please?”

  It was impossible to resist those eyes, just as impossible as it was to not to be blown away by the absolute sincerity ringing in his every word. I had no idea why he cared, how he was able to care so deeply about someone who was still practically a stranger to him, but mostly, I knew I’d never been so moved by anyone before.

  “It’s just... this,” I said. Then, with a broken sob, I pulled out the letter and shoved it into his hands.

  Matt perused it for a second, swept his eyes over it once more, and then looked up at me in confusion. “This whole neighborhood seems to use some kind of shorthand that eludes me. Haven’t they ever heard of typewriters or printers around here?”

  I wanted to laugh, but considering the situation, I was struggling to even catch my breath. “It’s about my business. The city wants to shut us down.”

  His look of concern deepened as he sat back on his heels and waited for me to explain the rest. He was endlessly patient, something else I already admired about him.

  In short, disjointed sentences, I finally managed to elaborate. “You remember that I’m a dog-walker, right?” I asked.

  He nodded silently.

  I continued, “Well, it’s not just me. I run a little operation here in the neighborhood. Everything is local, and I’ve only got five employees. Everyone pays cash.”

  “Go on,” he gently coaxed.

  I pulled in a deep breath, unable to stop the stream of tears from running down my face. “Well, yesterday I got that note from the New York licensing office. Apparently, my little business has gotten too big for its britches. We are no longer allowed to operate out of my private residence, and unless I obtain some sort of office space somewhere, they’re going to shut me down.”

  Matt watched me with wide, contemplative eyes and nodded thoughtfully when it was clear that my horrible tale was finished. Then, seemingly without even thinking about it, he reached out and gave my knee a firm, comforting squeeze. “I’m so sorry,” he said softly. “I know a huge change like that has to be daunting, especially when it was thrown on you out of the blue. Do you have any places in mind?”

  “That’s the thing.” I threw down the Chronicle classifieds in disgust. “Renting office space in New York City costs about as much as a round-trip ticket to the freaking moon... and it’s going to be equally impossible.”

  Instead of consoling me longer, he tilted his head in surprise, looking at me with uncertainty. “Well, you’re right about that. Renting in the city is impossible.”

  My eyes snapped up, and I flashed him a sarcastic glare. “Gee, thanks, Captain Obvious. That’s just the bit of sunshine I needed today.”

  “No, Alana, you don’t understand. I meant renting here is impossible. That’s why everyone I know leases instead. It’s really the only way to get a foothold.”

  Leasing? Truth be told, I hardly even understood the difference. The only thing I knew for sure was that leasing implied a hell of a lot more money than I currently had. “I thought people only leased houses, not office spaces.”

  “Absolutely office spaces! Of course it requires a bigger down-payment, but if you’ve got enough clients on your roster to catch the city’s attention... Well, I’m sure you’ll make your deposit back in no time.”

  Down-payment? Deposit? Those were also words I’d learned instinctively to avoid, unless the deposit was headed into my bank account. “And how, exactly, can one come up with the funds to secure such a deposit?” I said, without a moment’s hesitation. I normally would have been embarrassed to ask, but there was something undeniably disarming about Matt. Not only that, but between the two of us, it seemed like he was the only one with some semblance of a plan.

  “Go to the bank,” he replied easily, “and ask for a business loan.”

  A business loan? That was one phrase that never would have occurred to me, no matter how much Googling I did, but Matt made it sound so simple. More than that, he made it sound possible; instead of some distant, unattainable life-raft, I suddenly felt like it was something within my reach. While I was sure that the actual process would require a bit more logistical maneuvering than he indicated, I still found myself strangely reassured. “Simple as that, huh?” I asked with a nervous grin.

  He flashed me a bright smile, stifling my tears. “Yep, simple as that.”

  Eventually, the crying subsided altogether. My breath steadied, my pulse evened out, and he knelt patiently on the porch until I got myself together.

  “So,” he said briskly, once again handing me a mug of coffee and reaching out to wipe away an errant tear, “what can we do now to cheer you up?”

  A faint blush tinted my cheeks as I stared down at my lap and imagined the many naughty and downright dirty ways a guy like that could bring a smile to my face. For the second time, my skin practically ignited where he touched it, a shining reminder of our connection, however fleeting it was.

  When inspiration struck, I looked up with a sudden grin. “Actually, I know just the thing...”

  Chapter 17

  “THIS IS, UH... NOT exactly what I had in mind.”

  Matt took a cautious step back, his eyes widening as he surveyed the transformation of my backyard. The picnic tables and chairs were shielded by umbrellas and handheld fans to combat the New York heat, and a half-dozen kiddie pools were strewn about, filled to the brim with soapy water.

  “Tell me this isn’t for some kind of ritual sacrifice,” he muttered, casting a wary glance at the pile of gigantic scissors lying on one of the tables. “Most of all, tell me the shears aren’t for me.”

  I laughed aloud as I walked past him, dragging a huge tub of ice behind me. He turned at once to help me lift it, and together, we carried the thing out to the grass.

  “This strikes you as odd, does it?” I glanced pointedly at the yard, and my eyes lingered on a carton of popsicles melting into a multicolored, sticky, slushy ooze beneath the rage of the burning sun. “What about this would indicate darkness and death? Last time I checked, bubbles and frozen treats weren’t exactly macabre.”

  He flashed me a grin and placed the ice tub in the shade. “Well, I didn’t say it can’t still be a good time.”

  I laughed again, flipping my hair back so I could secure it in a long ponytail. His eyes followed my every movement, then met mine inquisitively, as if waiting for me to explain.

  “You
said you wanna cheer me up, right?” I asked, lifting my brows expectantly.

  He nodded.

  “Good, because it’s bath time!”

  He glanced once more at the pools, then looked back at me. “We do it a bit differently on the West Coast.”

  I grinned and swatted him with a towel.

  “It’s for the dogs,” I explained. “Every two months, I offer free dog cleaning and grooming. Many of my clients bring their friends, and that builds my business. Especially in light of my, uh... current dire circumstances, it seems like the perfect time.”

  Matt’s eyes danced as he shook his head, wearing an incredulous smile. “I’ve heard of free car washes, but you give free pet washes?”

  Before I could answer, the doorbell rang, and I glanced in toward the house. “No—we’re giving free pet washes, pal. Trust me, you’ll love it.” I headed inside to answer the door but glanced over my shoulder with a wide smile. “Who knows? Maybe some shaggy, wet mop will be your muse, inspire your next book.”

  His eyes lingered on me for a moment before lighting up with a hidden smile. “I’m sure I’ll find lots of inspiration here,” he muttered in a way that made me weak in the knees.

  THE TRUTH WAS THAT I had several reasons for hosting the dog wash. First and foremost, it was a way for me to manipulate Matt into seeing me again. I desperately wanted to see him, longingly, like a craving; I knew what that felt like, considering that I was so obsessed with food that I had to join an online weight loss club.

  No matter how hard I tried to distract myself, I couldn’t get his perfect face out of my head. I couldn’t stop replaying moments from our blissful day together. It wasn’t even just the big moments, like when he caught me in his arms. I recalled every little thing, all those nuanced details that no one else would have even thought to notice. There was the thoughtful tightening of his brow when we talked about politics, the careless sweep of his hair as he threw back his head with a smile, the way he angled instinctively toward the sun, as if it was the one good thing about Los Angeles that he had feared he’d left behind.

  Matt truly was my primary motive for holding the dog wash at that time, but it wasn’t entirely selfish; I knew Nate wanted to see him, too. I knew because all night long, I had to field an onslaught of hyper text messages from the demented little man, who was furious that I’d hung up on him. My bestie and business partner demanded kiss-and-tell, wanting to know all those delicious details I insisted on keeping to myself. A lesser, meaner person would have blown him off altogether, but in honor of our many years together, I decided to extend an olive branch. That gesture of good will came in the form of my hunky next-door neighbor.

  I breezed through the house, pausing for only a moment to check my reflection before pulling the door open and flashing a smile. “Hey! You’re here!”

  Nate stepped inside stiffly. He hardly lowered his chin enough to look at me, and as he swept past, I could have sworn I heard him mutter.”

  I grinned and shut the door behind him.

  His ensemble was a far cry from Nate’s usual meticulous outfit. In fact, he looked like he had fallen off the gypsy train somewhere between Woodstock and the Salvation Army. His hair was slicked back to its usual perfection, but he was sporting swim shorts and a ratty old T-shirt that bore the insignia of a punk band that peaked when we were 12. To top it off, he was wearing flip-flops, something Nate despised.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he snapped the second I turned around. “You know how much I hate this part. I usually find some scheme to get out of it.”

  “You’re not telling me anything I don’t know,” I said cheerfully, linking my arm through his as I led him through the house to the backyard. “That’s why I thought it was best to just spring it on you.”

  He glanced down, but his harsh glare softened slightly when he saw my outfit. “Cute,” he said, furrowing his brow in suspicion. “What’s up with that, cute clothes on dog-washing day? Shouldn’t you be wearing something... grubbier?”

  I shrugged flippantly, brushing off the question as we made our way outside. Of course he was right, because beneath my magnanimous olive branch, there lay a bit of trickery as well. Not only would he spend the day drooling over my new dream guy, but he would be forced to do it in what he coldly referred to as “peasant clothes.” On the other hand, I had selected a short pair of denim cut-offs that I was amazed I could squeeze back into, coupled with a sunny yellow blouse.

  Early that morning, I bolted to the scale and weighed myself. I was shocked to see that ten pounds had melted away. I could only attribute that to cutting out the nectar of the gods, all that sugary soda I loved so much. Pop was not easy to give up, but it was a worthy sacrifice that enabled me to fit my behind in those perfectly frayed denims and actually button them, and that made me so happy that I actually punched the air, did a victory dance, and shouted, “You go, girl!” in my best Nate voice.

  While some of it had to do with my efforts, I was exceptionally glad for the support I received from Curvy Hips and Sexy Lips. I knew I couldn’t do it alone, without the encouragement and tough love of my online dieting club. When I told them about my big ten-pound accomplishment, they were as happy about it as I was. One of them even made sure to tell me, “Honey, you just got rid of forty sticks of butter!”

  Feeling bold and confident and accomplished, I even snapped and posted a few selfies, double-chin and all. I went to the trouble of curling my hair before sweeping it up into a careless ponytail, the standard girl trick to make men—one man in particular—think I didn’t even have to try.

  “What?” I quipped as we headed out into the sun. “I’m not allowed to make an effort?”

  Nate rolled his eyes. “Of course you are. It’s just... Well, isn’t it a bit of a waste? The dogs sure as hell aren’t gonna care. By the end of the day, you’ll be a sweaty, soaked, furry mess,” he said, scrunching up his nose. “By the way, congratulations on being a big loser.”

  “Nate! That’s not nice.”

  “The weight loss, honey. I saw it in the group.”

  “Oh, that! Thanks. I want to lose another ten as fast as I can.”

  “You seem really motivated lately, girl. I’m proud of you. I lost thirty or so, but I’m stuck now, and...”

  He trailed off, as if he was suddenly witnessing an earthquake or a tsunami while being struck by lightning at the same time. Before my very eyes, Nate transformed from a sentient human being into some sort of ragdoll. His mouth fell open, his skin flushed, and all his limbs seemed to wilt. As he stared, slack-jawed, across the yard, I could practically hear his heart pounding.

  I really couldn’t blame him. As soon as Matt heard the door slide open, he turned, seemingly in slow motion, gazing out into the sunny yard to see who had arrived. With that glow behind him, he was absolutely, undeniably perfect; there was just no better word to describe it.

  Like me, Matt had dressed for more of a catalog-shoot dog wash. His dark jeans hung low on his hips, and his white, fitted tank showed off the sculpted muscles in his arms. He kept it simple... simple and seductive.

  The sun created a halo around his golden skin, a literal aura that moved with him as he made his way across the yard. His eyes twinkled as he extended his hand, and after glancing once at me for confirmation, he turned that breathtaking smile of his on my love-struck best friend. “Nate, right? Alana’s told me so much about you.”

  Up close, Matt was even harder to handle, like some kind of wayward god who’d wandered away from Olympus by accident and ended up at a New York dog wash. At the moment, he was more like a statue of a Greek god, his hand hanging frozen in the air as he waited for Nate.

  Not that Nate has any idea what time zone he’s in at the moment...

  In an act of sheer mercy, I stomped discreetly on my best friend’s toes.

  Nate jerked out of his trance and offered an apologetic smile, taking deep breaths and trying to steady himself as he and Matt shook hands. “Yeah,
Nate. That’s me.”

  I almost felt sorry for the guy. It wasn’t often that I was able to outmaneuver someone so naturally devious, but given what he was up against, I knew he didn’t stand a chance.

  As if to add to his humiliation, he repeated once more, “I’m Nate.”

  The two men shook hands, one with a flush of embarrassment and the other with a hint of confusion.

  “Matt.”

  The handshake grew awkward quickly, this time because Nate made no move to release Matt’s hand; he simply stared, wearing a dumbfounded, dreamy little smile, utterly unaware of what was going on around him.

  Eventually, Matt turned to me and said in a low undertone, “Um... is he okay?”

  “Yep.” I clapped my hands briskly, shattering the tension and sending Nate to his new lifetime of shame. “So, now that everyone’s been properly introduced, Matt, there are some drinks in the fridge. Can you put them in the ice chest?”

  He saluted and disappeared inside the house, leaving me alone with Nate in the yard.

  “I will never...” Nate’s chest heaved, pulling in giant, steadying breaths as he fought to finish the threat. “Never in a million years—”

  “I know, I know. You’ll never forgive me.” I bit my lip with an apologetic grin, only to be bowled over when Nate scooped me off the ground in a bone-crushing hug.

  “No, I’ll never be able to thank you.”

  The tips of my shoes skimmed the top of the grass as he rocked me back and forth, hugging me against his chest like a child with his long-lost teddy bear.

  “Aly, you blessed girl. Look at the man you tricked into your backyard!”

  I wasn’t so sure about that, but the one thing I did know was that Nate had never looked so proud. “Tricked?” I questioned defensively, pushing against his chest in a failed attempt to free myself from the crushing grasp. “I didn’t trick anyone. I just—”

  “Shh.” He patted the back of my hair and conjured up a beatific smile, refusing to release me. “It’s all right. You don’t have to explain. All that matters is that he’s here now, with us.”

 

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