Page 50 of Lawton

Her steps faltered. "No. Of course not." A hint of pink appeared on her cheeks. "It's just, well, I –"

She looked so flustered that I had to laugh. "Just kidding. Truth is, Ihavebeen around a lot more lately. But it's not always like this."

"So why is it now?" she asked. "Are you on vacation or something?"

I recalled the first day I'd first seen her walking outside my gate. Before that day, I'd been spending ten, maybe fifteen hours a day at the office downtown. After that day, I'd been spending zero whenever I could.

In the long run, it meant I had more work to do, not less. In the short term, it meant I got to seeher, the girl I couldn't stop thinking about.

I kept my tone casual. "Something like that."

She looked intrigued. "You're not gonna tell me?"

I stopped walking. So did she. I turned to face her. In her eyes, I saw that familiar caution, along with something else. It was the something else that made me say, "You can't guess?"

Chapter 24

I wanted to move toward her. What she wanted, I couldn't tell. So I stood, still as a statue, letting my question linger in the fall breeze. Around us, everything was moving – the leaves on the ground, the empty branches above, a mail-delivery truck two blocks ahead.

As for Chloe, she was absolutely still. Against every urge, I waited, determined not to scare her off.

And then it happened. Her lips parted, and she leaned closer. It was barely an inch, but that's all it took. Slowly, I lowered my head toward hers.

A yank on my hand stopped me short. It was Chucky's leash. In front of us, he was barking his furry head off. I turned to see him lunging for yet another squirrel – or maybe the same one as before – who knows.

In front of us, the squirrel rocketed up a nearby tree. Chucky lunged and barked after it, going nuts while I held the leash steady. The squirrel stopped on a high branch, chattering as it looked down on us.

Next to me, Chloe gave a shaky laugh. "I think it's taunting us."

"Probably." I eyed the squirrel, wondering how it would taste with fava beans and a nice Chianti.

I turned to Chloe, wanting to finish what we'd started. But she was already moving, walking forward as if nothing had happened. Damn it. Nothing had happened. But I wished like hell it had.

As we moved, I looked over at her. She looked casual, maybe even too casual. An act? Or for real?

"So," she asked, "why don't you get a dog of your own?"

Because I didn't want my own dog. I wanted Chloe. I wanted the whole package – her, the dog, whatever she wanted. When I was with her, I felt like a different guy, not exactly normal, but a lot more normal than before. I could see a life with her, a nice easy life, with dogs and kids and maybe some grandkids later on.

The thought hit me like a thunderbolt. I didnotjust think that. Still, the image lingered. And the longer it lingered, the more I liked it.

Next to me, Chloe was walking faster now. Trying to focus, I recalled her question. Why didn't I get a dog of my own? I hadn't answered, had I?

Better late than never. I kept my tone easy. "Because then, I couldn’t borrow yours."

"Oh c'mon," she said. "Be serious."

I was serious.

She glanced over at me. "Why don't you?"

I shrugged. "Maybe it's not fair to leave 'em alone."

"You could always get a dog-walker." She hesitated. "Or a house sitter."

Maybe I had trust issues, because that wasn't gonna happen. I made a scoffing sound. "Yeah, like I'm gonna trust some stranger with my dog. You hear stories."

In front of us, the terrier paused for a pit-stop. As we waited, I kept on talking. "And if anyone harmedmydog, well –"