Page 7 of Embers of You (Amity #1)

Sutton

My phone rings, and I look at the screen, scoff at the name, flip it over, and put it down while getting back to grooming the excitable yorkie on my table.

“There’s no way I’m talking to her, no I’m not,” I coo at the little dog currently wiggling her butt at me.

My ex-best friend seems to be switching off with my parents on who’s trying to get a hold of me. I refuse to talk to any of them after what happened. I need to process, and even then, I’m not sure I’ll ever really understand or see them the same.

I continue to run my clippers on the dog’s coat while she tries to give me kisses and jump onto my shoulder, and I chuckle at her persistence. Jerry Lee has been fairly quiet all morning, but I realize now he may have been sleeping. Because when he suddenly starts barking, I just shake my head.

“Who’s going to tell him he’s not a dog?” I ask the yorkie. She tries to sneak a wet kiss again, and I laugh.

The door to the salon opens, but I don’t think it’s Trish, because she’s not scheduled with any clients today, and the next dog on my schedule isn’t due to be dropped off for another hour.

Immediately, I think it’s this dog’s mom coming early.

I walk around the table, making sure the dog, who thinks she’s a jumping bean, doesn’t go flying off as I greet whoever it is.

“Hot guy,” Jerry Lee squawks and I freeze. He’s only said that when it’s?—

“Good morning, Sutton,” Jameson greets with a wide smile as he comes into view.

My mouth goes dry at the sight of him here again. My eyes rake over his distressed jeans, navy T-shirt, and backwards cap on his head. Everyone knows that is every woman’s kryptonite and how dare he come in here looking like that. He has to know what he’s doing.

“Shut up, Vern,” Jerry Lee’s squawk pulls me out of my frozen state, and I attempt to fix my face to hide the fact that I’m probably practically drooling over this man who just walked in.

“Uh, good morning. How can I help you?”

“I actually had a question for you.” He smiles, and I expect his question to be asking for my number again.

I don’t know if I have the strength to turn him down again.

Especially with him looking like that, even though I know I should.

I’m not here to fall in bed with the first local who’s nice to me.

“Sure, what’s your question?” I try to sound cheery, putting on my best customer service voice.

“Do you only groom dogs or do you do other animals?”

My face scrunches up in a grimace. This man better not ruin the sweet image I have of him in my head and ask me about grooming him.

“Uh, only dogs and cats. I’ll trim bunny’s nails though.” I give him a skeptical look, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or punch line to this inevitable joke.

“What about horses?”

I look around, down to the yorkie, and then up to Jameson. “There’s no way a horse would fit in here.”

He laughs, it’s deep, guttural, and sends a wave of pleasure between my thighs, where I should not be feeling anything for anyone right now. “No, the horse wouldn’t come here, you would have to come to the ranch.”

“Oh.” It’s all I can say, my cheeks flaring slightly at my initial thought and how dumb I probably seem. “I don’t…um, I wouldn’t know how to groom a horse.”

“Doesn’t seem much different than grooming a dog, just a bit bigger.” He lets out a small laugh, almost like he’s nervous. Especially when he takes off his hat, running his hand through his dark hair before replacing the hat back on his head.

I shake my head. “I don’t know if I could do that, I’m sorry. You could ask Trish when she’s here, maybe she will.”

“I’d rather it be you.” He smiles.

“Why’s that?”

“Hot guy, Jameson,” Jerry Lee calls out, and I drop my head to hide the red spreading onto my cheeks.

“Well, for one, you taught him that.” He chuckles.

“I didn’t. He said that when I started here, someone else taught him,” I insist.

“Right.” His tone is disbelieving, and I roll my eyes. “But I think you would do well. The horses are sweet, and I can pay double whatever you would want to charge me.”

I narrow my eyes at him, the persistence has me feeling like there’s an ulterior motive hiding somewhere in his words. On one hand he seems sweet and genuine, but on the other hand he could be planning to kidnap me and hold me hostage on his ranch.

Stranger danger and all that.

“I don’t think I can do that, I’m sorry. If you have a dog that needs groomed though, you’re more than welcome to bring them to me here.” I smile widely, though it’s fake.

“I don’t have a dog, but I was thinking of getting one. Is there a breed you’d recommend?”

“Um…” Again, I look down at the yorkie who’s sat down and is looking up at me wiggling her tail like she’s extremely entertained by all of this. “I would say get whatever dog speaks to you. There’s no better bond or love from a dog.”

He nods. “I’ll remember that. Think about the offer, though, because it’ll stand.”

“Okay,” I agree, though I don’t know if I could ever groom a horse, or what that even means.

“Have a good day, Sutton.” He smiles as he leaves, and I watch, though the second he’s out the door I let out a long breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

Looking down at the dog again, I shake my head. “Do you know what that was about?”

I wish she could answer and give her two cents on what she just witnessed, but instead, she’s jumping up trying to give me kisses again and I laugh. “Okay, let’s get you finished so you can smother your mommy with your kisses.”

After I get home from work, I go check the mail and see an extremely tall woman with dark blonde hair at the bank of mailboxes. Walking up, I smile. “Hi.”

She looks up, doesn’t smile, but doesn’t frown either, her face remains passive. “Hey.”

“I’m Sutton, I just moved here,” I greet, attempting to socialize with someone other than the good-looking firefighter or my boss.

“Bailey,” she introduces.

“Nice to meet you.” I smile wider.

“You too.” She nods, her lips spreading in a small smile before walking toward a house across the street from mine.

Hm. Not sure if that could turn into a friendship, but at least I know one neighbor.

I’m looking through my mail as I walk back and see there’s something addressed to a “Bailey Collee.” I debate bringing it over to the house where I saw her walk to.

I decide I should; it could be a good way to break the ice a bit more.

I knock hesitantly and when she opens the door, she’s frowning.

“Sorry, this was accidentally delivered to my box,” I tell her, holding out the envelope.

She looks down at it, then me, taking it carefully from my grasp. “Thanks.”

I nod, then turn away to go back home because she doesn’t seem like the talkative type, and I feel like I’ve already overstepped with her somehow. She seems even more closed off than me, and I don’t want to piss her off.

“Sutton,” she calls out, and I stop, turning back to face her. “We could hang out sometime. If you want.”

I hear the hesitance in her voice, but I smile at the effort. “That sounds great. I work at the grooming salon down the road, but I’m usually done by five most days.”

“Sounds good, we’ll plan something.” She turns her mouth up in the slightest smile.

I hear a door shut next door to her and turn to see a large man with a frown on his face walking toward his car parked in the driveway. When I turn back to Bailey she’s scowling in his direction. I can’t help but think there’s a story there that I would love to know more about.

“I can’t wait,” I say, pulling her attention away from the neighbor who is driving off.

She nods, and we go our separate ways. I’m glad to possibly be making a friend while also hoping I’m not getting in the middle of any drama. I left all of that back home; I came here to restart my life away from the toxicity I found myself in.

It’s why I’m not entertaining Jameson in any way. Any sort of relationship has drama written all over it.