Page 21 of Sunny Skies Ahead (Watford Sweethearts #2)

Believing in Imogen’s vision for Winding Road’s social media was how I ended up leaning against a tree with one arm above my head, looking forlornly into the distance.

“No one wants to see me like this,” I countered, and Imogen shook her head fiercely.

“I promise you, Kam, people want to look.”

I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion. Imogen waved me back into position, her face never leaving the viewfinder of her camera.

“Okay, now cross your arms over your chest and look towards me.”

“You better promise me that you’ll make Connor and Lucas take headshots like this.”

“Quit your grumbling and smile. ”

“So now I’m smiling instead of doing the grumpy vet thing?”

Imogen sighed and held her camera in her right hand, putting her other hand on her hip.

“You are a grumpy vet. All three of you are,” Imogen said. “It’s part of your appeal. You just happen to hide it better than the other two. I also know you want to do everything you can to make Winding Road a smashing success, so put on your big boy pants and smile for the damn camera.”

“Aye ma’am,” I muttered, but did as she said. Imogen let out a surprised noise when I stuck my hands in my pockets and smiled.

“Why weren’t you doing that the whole time?” Imogen exclaimed, flipping through the pictures. “You look so good here.”

“Aw thanks Im,” I said, puffing my chest out. Imogen shoulder checked my playfully, but I swore I caught a faint blush dotting her cheeks.

“You know what I meant,” Imogen said.

I was about to ask her to clarify what exactly she meant when Imogen jumped back.

“Shit!” Imogen shouted, jumping out from the tree line right as a fuzzy white creature shot from the trees, darting across the road. I instinctively moved in front of her, holding my arm out defensively.

“Did you see that?” Imogen panted, looking around frantically.

“What?” I asked, my heart rate increasing .

“The dog!” Imogen waved frantically towards the dirt path. “It was this scrawny white dog. He ran across the trail right in front of me.”

“Oh Jesus,” I said, following Imogen down the trail, keeping my eyes peeled for any sign of the animal. Less than a minute later, the dog came from the tree line again, this time approaching us slowly, cautiously, limping slightly on his right side.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Imogen said as she took a step closer. I swallowed down my anxiety about her approaching a random dog we found in the woods. There’s no telling what kind of disease or pests might be on him.

“Your paw is red,” Imogen said with a frown, kneeling down to take the dog’s paw in her hands.

I pressed my lips together. “Does he have a collar?”

Imogen shook her head. “It doesn’t look like it. Maybe he lost it.”

To my complete and utter dismay, Imogen picked the dog up and turned towards me. The dog didn’t so much as nip or growl at Imogen, but he was looking at me with malice in his eyes.

I was not a dog person. Everyone in my squad had joked it was my biggest red flag. Connor and Lucas knew this, but evidently I’d forgotten to tell Imogen this key piece of information somewhere along the way, because she continued to approach me with the feral ball of matted fur.

“We need to take him to the vet,” Imogen said .

“What?” I said, blinking slowly, as if that would help me comprehend what was happening. “Imogen, we don’t know anything about this dog. Please put him down.”

“We are not abandoning this dog in the woods, Kameron Miller. He’s scared and lost, and he needs help. Now let’s go.”

I groaned inwardly. My crush was growing. I didn’t know how it was possible to have so much respect for someone who cared so deeply about everything—including animals—and also be frustrated by her sheer lack of self preservation.

“His owners could be out looking for him right now,” I exclaimed, knowing I was fighting a losing battle.

The Winding Road acreage extended several miles back from this spot, and if this dog had managed to get here even while injured, there’s a good chance he’d been dumped near the property line.

I doubted anyone was coming back for him.

I could practically see the bond forming between Imogen and the dog. Imogen scowled and turned her back towards me, adjusting her camera strap so she could cuddle the dog closer to her chest.

“Don’t listen to him,” Imogen practically cooed as she continued to check the dog over for injuries as we walked. “He’s a grumpy old man.”

“I’m not a fan of picking up random dogs we found in the freaking woods!”

Imogen just shook her head and kept walking towards the vehicles.

One very expensive trip to the emergency vet later, I was sitting at my kitchen table trying to figure out how my day had gone this far off the rails.

“What’s got you all mopey?” Connor said.

“We have a dog now,” I said, taking a swig of my non-alcoholic beer.

“A dog?” Lucas and Connor said in unison.

At that moment, Imogen returned from taking The Dog outside to pee in the backyard. Imogen squealed with glee as The Dog made a beeline straight for Connor and Lucas, and promptly set about sniffing the two of them like he worked for TSA.

“Oh my God,” Connor murmured at the same time as Lucas said, “Oh, you mean a real dog?”

“Yes,” Imogen said, still beside herself with joy. “And we need your help naming him.”

“For the record, I voted against keeping the dog.”

At that moment, Abbie appeared, carrying a tray covered in tin foil. She let out a gasp of sheer delight when she saw that said dog was nuzzling Imogen’s leg. She immediately thrust the pan into Connor’s hands before yelling, “You got a dog?”

Abbie leaned down to let him sniff her fingers, and he promptly decided she was a safe bet as well, rolling over so both women could give him belly rubs. Imogen’s giggle did something to me, and I squashed it before I exposed my crush for what it was in front of all my friends.

“He’s cute though,” Lucas said, sitting on the floor in front of the couch, eagerly patting his thighs. The dog didn’t so much as look in his direction. “ Does he have a name?”

“Not yet,” I muttered. “I wrote Dog on the vet paperwork.”

“Very original,” Lucas replied.

“I vote we name him Chesty,” Connor said.

Abbie and Imogen both groaned.

“We are not naming the dog Chesty,” Abbie said sternly.

“Why not?” Connor said, affronted. “You’re telling me you found that dog in the woods, injured, and he pulled through? Chesty is a perfect name.”

“Hell no,” Lucas said, shaking his head. “You infantry guys name everything after Chesty Puller. Get a new bit. We already have a horse named Chesty, for God’s sake.”

Connor and I both launched into explanations of why Lucas was categorically incorrect, that Chesty Puller was indeed the most legendary Marine to ever serve, and that he held patron saint status among infantrymen for a reason.

Lucas covered his ears and shook his head.

At that moment, the dog jumped up and began sprinting around the room.

I groaned, knocking my head into the back of my chair.

“He has been doing this all day since the vet got that huge splinter out of his paw. He’s supposed to be taking it easy, so he doesn’t agitate his paw more,” I said, glaring at the animal.

The dog didn’t seem to mind that he and I weren’t best buddies yet, as he continued to run circles around all of us.

The dog weaved in and out of people’s legs, much to the ladies’ delight, before running headfirst into the open fridge door.

Lucas cursed and glanced down. Right as he leaned down to make sure the dog was okay, the four-legged demon took off again, resuming his sprints like he hadn’t just brained himself on a fridge door .

“Chill out, Basilone, damn.”

Connor and I both turned towards Lucas, who was digging around in the fridge for a non-alcoholic beer. He slammed the fridge door shut, using the bottle opener on the counter to break the seal.

“What?” Lucas said after taking a swig.

“Basilone,” I said, and Connor’s smile widened. The dog continued to run circles around the living room before slowing down.

“Who is Basilone?” Abbie asked.

“John Basilone is to machine gunners what Chesty Puller is to infantrymen,” Connor said.

“I’m not following,” Imogen said. “Is this Marine Corps lore?”

“Something like that,” was all I said, lest I open a can of worms.

“John Basilone fought at Guadalcanal,” Lucas said.

“He fought his way through hostile ground in order to resupply the machine gunners under his command. The man ran for days, weaving through the battlefield to ensure his guys had supplies and ammunition to keep up the fight. He was later killed in action at Iwo Jima.”

“That was a surprisingly concise explanation,” I said, giving him credit where credit is due.

“Unlike you Chesty fanboys, we know how to make our point.”

“His nickname could be Bass,” Connor said, scratching his chin .

Imogen clapped her hands in sheer delight as Bass finally settled at her feet.

“It’s perfect,” she crooned, and as much as I was decidedly not a dog person, seeing the joy on her face at the new addition to our chosen family had all manner of emotions mixing in my chest. “Welcome home, Bass.”

Something twisted in my chest as I watched her.

So rarely did Imogen find herself in a place where she could be unapologetically herself.

Where she could embrace everything she loved and wear that love on her sleeve, unabashed, unashamed.

The knowledge that she had found that here, at Winding Road, in this farmhouse, in this space that we had cultivated so carefully, brought me a sense of pride I hadn’t realized I could feel.

This felt different than receiving an email from one of the veterans we worked with saying that he had made amends with his family and was focusing on their sobriety. This felt more personal: it was deeper, I realized, because this was about Imogen.

This woman who I had so much respect for. This woman that I wanted to know, to cherish.

As if sensing my thoughts, Imogen looked up, her eyes searching mine out. Connor, Lucas, and Abbie were already digging into the casserole Abbie had made, and their conversation focused on some drama in the country music world I wasn’t well versed in.

Imogen held my gaze for a moment before she gave me a soft smile and mouthed “thank you. ”

God help me if my heart didn’t crack right down the middle at how breathtaking it all was.

I wasn’t a dog person, but I decided in that moment that I’d get her a dozen dogs, if she’d smile at me like that again.